#identifying marks

[samwrights]

Plastic Flowers [ 2 ]

Chapter 2: Never Underestimate the Poor, Hungry, and Desperate.

Warnings: Language.

A few days had passed since Hitoko and Katsuki met for the first time. Good on her word, Hitoko Ohta’s bar, The Upside Down, had remained closed since that day. And though he would vehemently deny it all if ever asked, Bakugo had casually sauntered by several times a day just to see if the place was open. More often than not, he created excuses for nobody but himself to justify his desire to speak with his soulmate again. A deep rooted part of him wanted to just knock on the door and speak to her in private while she repaired the damages and every time Bakugo had finally gathered the courage to do so, he got a notification from his agency about a crime that he needed to attend to. Maybe it was for the better, he figured, since every time he walked by, Hitoko was drenched with sweat as she did all the heavy lifting by herself. By herself.

Bakugo never had time to dwell on why the mere thought of her being alone in that place made him uncomfortable. As of late, he had been caught up with some strange string of crap bank robberies. It seemed every time Katsuki arrived on the scene, the perpetrator escapes with the money despite multiple eye witness accounts from victims, bystanders, and even police. The criminal always just disappears with spoils in hand. What interested the blonde bomber the most was that, according to eyewitness accounts, each robber was different every time. It wasn’t a simple matter of a wig or a mask; the perpetrator was always female but varied in height, weight, eye color, even facial structure. The only common denominator was gender and, quite frankly, the case was beginning to get on Bakugo’s nerves.

Meanwhile, Hitoko has been working tirelessly for the last few days. The first thing that had to be done was to get the pipe that burst fixed and, with it being a rush order and same day service, it ended up costing a pretty penny to phone a plumber. Without any other assistance, Hitoko was rebuilding the wall that separated her bar from the customer space while she waited for her new espresso machine to be delivered. Initially, she hadn’t included the wall in her cost of damages, but even with the water running for just a few hours before she did an emergency shut off, the water ended up eroding the cheap, weak structure of the half walls that surrounded the espresso bar and mini fridge. Being closed for the last few days and having to order maintenance and replacement equipment, Hitoko was already out nearly twenty grand. Even thinking of her current financial situation grated at her nerves as she stood outside of the Upside Down on a break with a lit cigarette between her fingers.

“Little Kohta Ohta,” A deep voice rumbled nearby, making the woman in question look up towards approaching footsteps. “Heard what happened to your little shop. Fuckin’ heroes, am I right?” Hitoko turned to look to the familiar voice, an easily recognizable hooded figure coming towards her.

“Dabi.” Hitoko greeted quietly with a drawl as she exhaled a thin stream of smoke between her lips. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I’m here too!” A shrill voice called out from behind the man, causing Kohta to smile in the slightest. Before even saying her name, the brunette was enveloped in a hug from Toga Himiko, the closest she had to a best friend. Dabi made the cut as well, though the two of them weren’t nearly as affectionate, which was to be expected from the cold man. “We heard what happened to the Upside Down and we wanted to make sure you were okay!”

“Wow that sure is nice of you guys.” Hitoko said suspiciously before flicking her cigarette out into the street and leading the other two back inside, locking the door behind her. “Not that I’m not happy to see you, but I have a sneaking suspicion there’s more to your visit than just to keep me company.” A throaty chuckle left Dabi’s lips as he nudged the hood off of his sweatshirt away, bringing his scarred face to the light.

“Exactly as Toga said. Rumor on the block is that Ground Zero destroyed half the place.” The two League villains took a look at the construction zone, a small grimace touching their lips as they noted how much work their dear friend was putting in, knowing she was doing it alone. Hitoko twitched at the name of the hero, piecing together that whomever Ground Zero was, must have been her soulmate. “Wanted to know if you wanted us to dispose of him for you, or if you finally decided to join the big leagues with us and do it yourself.” Dabi coaxed, dragging a long finger under the brunette woman's chin. Hitoko let out a sigh, pulling herself away from his touch and retreating behind the counter to pour each of them a glass as she wordlessly offered her friends a couple of beers. It was obvious to her they would be staying at least long enough for a drink.

“Dabi, you know I’m not into that shit.” Hitoko said when she returned to the other side of the counter, taking a sip of her own beer in her right hand while carrying the other two in her left. A thick lipped pout rested on Toga’s face as her best friend denied their off-handed proposal. The two of them came to visit a minimum of once a month to attempt to get the mannequin master to join the League of Villains. Every single time they offered the idea to her, she always responded with a firm shake of her head. While Hitoko had become friends with them on the account of them being regulars to the bar, they also seemed to have taken a genuine interest in her life; and her with theirs despite her constant rejection to the League. The two had come repeatedly to the Upside Down on account of their unknown mission, their friendship just a bonus, as Dabi would put it. Who knew villains actually formed friendships rather than simple alliances?

“Aw, but Kohta, you’d be such a good villain!” The blonde female whined. Hitoko only gave a shrug before knocking back the rest of her pilsner.

“I know, Toga. You tell me this every time you visit me but honestly I’m fine with what I’m doing.”

“Really? So you’re okay just being a petty criminal that controls fuckin’ dolls for your silly bank robberies?” Dabi asks with rich timbre, his turquoise eyes icy and thick with an idle threat as he held Hitoko’s gaze. Despite his intimidation tactic, the brunette just gave a wry smile that spoke volumes of her confidence.

“Of course I am, Dabi. I gotta pay for all my shit somehow, right?”

Another fucking bank robbery. That had to be at least four in the last two weeks, and Katsuki was slowly going mad. It just didn’t make any sense! And as much as he wanted to dedicate all of his time to his case, it wasn’t that simple for him. His left arm had been throbbing excruciatingly for the last two days, the white raised lettering slowly turning a deep crimson stroke by stroke, down to the last two letters as the bond remained unsettled. Throwing himself into work didn’t serve as a distraction anymore—if anything it was hindering him.

Once again, Bakugo reviewed tapes of the bank robberies in his agency office while he had a map laid out on his desk of all the banks and trusts that had been hit. All of them were in the downtown area, though there was no immediate pattern nor did their locations reveal a central operating point. The security footage only showed him the physical differences between the robbers which reiterated the only conclusion he had come to—these women were working for somebody. Whom though, Katsuki had no clue. But with one major bank left in the downtown area, he hoped his stakeout would crack the case and solve it shut so he could go back to dealing with his own personal issues.

It was broad daylight when Katsuki “Ground Zero” Bakugo once again stood outside the bank as additional security to four other police officers. For days on end, he had waited diligently for the day the serial robber would strike again. Every person that came in and out, he took a mental picture of their face and added them to an imaginary registry. He’d been outside for hours now, but he knew he would be here until the perpetrator revealed themselves. Justice would prevail, Katsuki firmly believed. Or at least, he was going to make damn sure it did.

A block over, Hitoko watched the security guards move about in an attempt to tighten any weak spots. They had been anticipating her arrival. Beneath her hood and glasses, she scanned how many police officers—four and one pro hero it seemed to be. This time around, Hitoko had to play her game very smart. She knew what the public knew; all females were considered suspects until further notice. It was the very reason she saved this bank for last; a bank just outside of a men’s suit shop. While Hitoko didn’t have as much practice controlling male mannequins, she certainly knew it wasn’t radically different; she just needed to nail the mannerisms.

Hitoko brought herself just a bit closer so that she was only half a block away to have better control over the six male mannequins under her quirk. As she felt her marionettes enter, she kept five near the door to occupy security while the last did the dirty work. Once her main man was at the counter, she felt the adrenaline pump in her veins and ignored the burning in her arms. Guns were pulled, orders were given, and screams filled the air—It was go time. The dummy was demanding every amount of accessible cash to stuff the leather suitcase.

The whole thing was a set up, Bakugo learned, as he went head to head with one of the robbers. It caught everyone, meaning the police officers and the pro himself, by surprise that it was not one or even two people, but six well dressed men—not women—this time around. It was drastically different than the last string of attacks, as they seemed to consist of one or potentially two women. Each member of the security team was occupied with an accomplice, while the one with the suitcase made his attempted escape. More shouting could be heard, this time from the commanding officer, to apprehend the one on the run. It was as if someone knew how many officers were there, as well as a pro hero. As if somebody knew they were anticipating female bank robbers. Somebody knew.

One police officer was gunned down from one of the assailants and honed in the the blonde Hero, making it two against Bakugo. They never seemed to be hurt, and it was pissing him off. No matter how many explosions he set off, where he sent a blast to their faces or punched them, there was never any sign of injury—no bleeding, no burning skin, nothing—on any of the criminals; they just kept getting back up and piled on top of him once again. “What the fuck?!” The hero Ground Zero snarled. Out of his peripherals, he noticed the primary criminal nearly through the threshold of the bank. “Shit!” He had to stop them, and fast, before they got away. He managed to knock the two mannequins off of him, but the one on the run was nowhere in sight. “God fucking dammit!” They had gotten away once again and, while his anger pulsed within him, Bakugo felt his arms burn with an incomparable fire. ‘Why now?!’ He griped internally, entirely unaware of their close proximity. Pissed was putting it mildly—Bakugo was livid, and he needed a fucking drink.

Meanwhile, the minute the mannequin on the run made his successful escape, Hitoko sauntered casually outside a nearby mom and pop flower shop as she awaited for her marionette to return to her. By now, it should have already followed the instructions to ditch the suitcase it had on hand. Her puppet was instructed to transfer the spoils into a backpack where she had kept post during the robbery, only just a block down from the bank, and deliver her the backpack. With the other five dolls from her quirk deactivated, Hitoko was able to create more distance between her and the bank as she only needed to focus on the one with her treasure. As she pretended to siphon through the various bouquets of flowers, the well-dressed faux man entered the flower shop with a fashionable black leather backpack with gold accents.

“Honey, you forgot your bag in the car again.” The dummy spoke to her, pretending to be a doting husband, making Hitoko grin. So far, so good—all was going according to plan. She feigned a laugh and went to peck the doll on the cheek.

“Oh, silly me. Thanks so much darling. I’ll see you after your meeting!” The brunette responded, pushing up her glasses that had fallen slightly astray on her nose. Her fake husband exited the flower shop before turning to the nearest alley, and once again became an inanimate object as Kohta deactivated her quirk. A simple department store mannequin for a men’s suit shop abandoned in a downtown alleyway. Hitoko pretended to look around the shop once again before grimacing and turning to leave.

“Oh, couldn’t find anything you like?” The elderly woman behind the counter asked, small wrinkly frown on her lips. Hitoko shook her head, returning the look with a more youthful pout of her lips.

“No, thank you, though. I was actually hoping to find some plastic flowers for my cafe.”

“Plastic? You mean fake flowers?” It was an odd request. What kind of person came into a flower shop just to find fake flowers? Such a strange woman, the elderly owner thought.

“Yeah. You can spray plastic flowers with any type of perfume and they don’t die. Much better for décor, especially for a coffee shop.” Was all Hitoko responded with before making her exit.

Such a strange woman indeed.

It was nice to finally have things go back to normal, Hitoko thought on a Tuesday night. The Upside Down was finally up and running again, and she was able to welcome back her awaiting regulars with hypothetical open arms. “Took ya a couple weeks to get back up! We missed ya, Kohta.” One of her typical Tuesday customers had said to her. With genuine warmth, Hitoko gave him a smile. This unnamed man was one of many that was happy to see the Upside Down up and running once again.

At a table in the far back corner sat Hitoko’s two best friends, Dabi and Toga, with hoods up and the bottom halves of their faces covered by black masks. If it wasn’t a normal thing to see the two of them dressed this way, looming in the corner and not speaking to anyone other than each other, the bar guests might have been alerted. But any time someone inquired about them or told Hitoko they had felt uncomfortable with their presence, she would simply laugh and tell them her friends were harmless. Harmless in the sense that Dabi and Toga would never to attempt to hurt her clientele, but her guests didn’t need to know that once they were out of the Upside Down, the customer was fair game. The Upside Down was a "safe house" in a brutal game of tag—a running inside joke between the three villains.

Well, pseudo-villain in Hitoko’s case.

Another week had passed, and the case of bank robberies had been left open, as Hitoko or any her mannequins had never been caught. Bakugo swore that this was the most frustrated he had ever been, as he usually did when he was angry or upset. What pissed him off even more that day was that when he finally apprehended two of the criminals, they just stopped moving. It would have been alright if it wasn’t literal—if the robbers hadn’t turned into department store mannequins almost instantaneously. It was unlike anything the agency or even the police had seen; there was no government quirk registered that did anything of the sort. What kind of fucking quirk does that?!

Even with time passing since that incident and discovery, Bakugo was still getting chewed out from his agency for not being able to catch the thugs. His stress was what prompted him to reach out to Eijiro, hoping his friend could distract him from the case. “I’ll meet you at the Upside Down then.” Red Riot’s choice in venue had proved to only strain Bakugo even further.

“Didn’t that chick say she never wanted to see us ever again?” The blonde bomber texted back, anxiously awaiting a reply as he drummed his fingers on the wooden desk in his office. That was another more recent development for Katsuki; his adrenaline and his anxiety levels had gone through the roof. And, while he was no stranger to lashing out at people, many of his close friends knew that he had grown from that behavior in the last ten years. To see it return, to see him screech and howl at nearly anything that moved, they all knew something was disturbing him.

“Dude, you’re soulmates. I’m sure you haven’t forgotten that.” Katsuki’s crimson eyes rolled even if Kirishima couldn’t see. Of course he fucking hadn’t—the fire in his arm wouldn’t let him forget his nameless soulmate. The fact that the two of them had met also wasn’t helping at all. If anything, it had only made matters worse considering Bakugo wanted to blame his lack of success in the bank robbery case on her. Realistically, he knew it wasn’t but, but in his own narcissistic mind, there was no logical reason he could have been bested by a faceless criminal. It was her fault, Katsuki rationalized, because she didn’t want to establish their soulmate bond. She had nothing to lose from being left unbonded, and she was only doing this to him because she knew Katsuki could lose everything. Of course it was this stupid woman's fault because, for whatever reason, she wanted to see him fail like she was. But even in his own head, it sounded stupid to blame her—he didn’t even know her name.

Despite his stubbornness, Bakugo found himself sitting at a high top table at the Upside Down in dark wash jeans and a white button up while waiting for Kirishima. The table was a recent addition, he noticed, realizing the table was where the massive mahogany pool table once stood. The small counter top space only held his arms and his phone face up. Even though Katsuki desperately needed a drink, he couldn’t bring himself to face the owner who stood behind the bar. He just didn’t want to get kicked out before Kirishima even got there, he thought to himself, attempting to rationalize and reason with himself once again. He sure as hell was never going to admit, even to himself, that he was afraid to just stand in front of his soulmate, let alone speak to her. What if his assumptions were right and she just wanted to see his Pro-Hero status get stripped? Or even worse, what if his assumptions were wrong, and she did want to bond? Either way, Katsuki's thoughts petrified him, though he would never say it out loud. The few that were close to Ground Zero knew he was the king of denial.

From behind the bar top, Hitoko continued talking to her regulars as she ignored the throbbing in her arm that started the moment the blonde bomber walked in. While holding her conversations with her bar top regulars, she noticed he refused to make eye contact with her and immediately bee-lined for a table out of her direct field of vision. The two bodies hidden in the corner that Hitoko had grown very accustomed to over the years made their way closer to the counter. Even with the masks covering the lower halves of their faces, she could easily see the dancing amusement in the eyes of Dabi and Toga. “Remember, Kohta, if you need a hand you let us know.” Dabi chimed with drips of sarcasm, recounting their previous conversation about Ground Zero. With carefully selected words, as he often did, Dabi masked his words with innocence as he tossed a blanket over his underlying threat. Toga let out her whimsical laughter.

“We’re gonna get going Kohta!” The blonde woman sang quite loudly. “Remember to give us a call! Love you!” In response, “Kohta” gave a shake of her head as she bid them farewell. Was that what her name was, Bakugo wondered. It didn’t...seem to fit her, was all he could think of. Kohta sounded strong and almost authoritative, but this woman before him seemed so dainty. Like she could break just from a fierce glare, but he recounted the night they had met. Kohta herself was full of fire and liquid steel when her anger had flared up. Everything about her didn't seem to add up, Katsuki observed as the brunette waved to her friends, maneuvering her way out from behind the bar and calling out towards the door to the back room.

“Jiroda, I’m gonna take a smoke break!” The brunette gave a quick shout before grabbing a crushed pack of cigarettes from beside her tip jar next to the beer taps and walking out with her friends. From the swinging door emerged a tall blonde woman, whom Katsuki presumed was ‘Jiroda’, another employee of the bar. And while his assumption was technically correct, he would never know that Jiroda, or any of the Upside Down’s employees, were simple manipulations of Hitoko’s quirk. Well, at least now he knew her name. Kohta, as the strange masked couple that had just left had called her. A name that he refused to believe held so much significance in his life. A name that had yet to physically leave his lips. A name he wanted to call out. He couldn’t help but wonder if she knew his name.

Outside of the Upside Down, Kohta lit her long menthol cigarette while standing in the alleyway between buildings with Toga and Dabi. The two villains finally pulled down their masks, revealing the smirks and wicked grins on their faces. “So what’s Ground Zero doing here again?” Toga asked with a hidden implication toning her question. Toga, ever the warrior of love and romanticism, wondered if her best friend had finally taken interest in a man, even if said man was a Pro-Hero. Maybe he was trying to court her, she hoped. Kohta’s happiness came second to only her own when it came to relationships. Especially knowing the amount of time the marionette mistress had spent in loneliness and solitude, some dedicated companionship for Kohta would make Toga feel much more at ease. In response, the owner of the bar just raised her eyebrow, exhaling smoke with an unamused look on her face.

“Who?”

“You know, the guy who smashed your pool table? The reason you had to go and rob all the banks downtown?” Dabi sneered lowly, though there was no actual malicious intent. The scarred, two-toned man, despite actually holding a form of endearment for the brunette female, constantly loved to goad her towards the lane of villainy. His main tactic was to remind her of her recurring crimes as well as previous ones, hoping to one day manipulate her into finally joining the League of Villains. Dabi loves Kohta—truly he does. It is the very reason he will not stop trying to shackle the woman into the League with him, so that he knows she will no longer suffer a path of solidarity. He doesn't want Hitoko Ohta, a runaway orphan, to continue her life without back up, to get tossed away into a different type of system when she was so much more than that. Dabi would not stop until she was completely under his protection.

“Dude, don’t just go around blurting that into the air.” Hitoko grit out as she smacked the male villain on the back. The man just laughed, rubbing at the brunette’s head, messing up her hair out of affection. Another roll of her diluted periwinkle orbs was given as the woman took another drag of her cigarette before brushing the cherry along the brick of her cafe. Hitoko tossed the butt onto the sidewalk, giving Toga and Dabi halfhearted hugs as she bid them farewell.

“I wonder if he’s actually come to see her, or if its just happenstance.” Toga asks Dabi as the two of them walk away from the Upside Down, pulling their face masks back over their features.

“Don’t matter if he did. All that matters is that his presence makes our job easier for us.”

Kohta entered the building once again, her presence asserting itself to the forefront of Bakugo’s mind. His arm felt as if it were repeatedly being dipped into lava, one feeling amongst many others he had been avoiding. The script that lonely decorated his left arm was almost completely red, only the last letter remaining white. An internal clock ticked in his mind every second of every day, wondering how much longer he had until his quirk vanished and he would be out of his career. Katsuki Bakugo, ever the optimist.

“Dude, you have to talk to her.” Eijiro verbally prodded the blonde man, pulling him from his internal conflict. A cross between a click of his tongue and a scoff left Katsuki’s lips as he took a swig of his beer.

“I don’t have to do anything.”

“Cut the crap, Bakugo.” Kirishima snapped, his jovial demeanor completely absent. More often than not, it was challenging to be friends with Katsuki. A part of being his friend, his best friend no less, Kirishima felt it was his responsibility to bring the blonde back to Earth when his head was so far up his own ass. Needless to say, Ground Zero needed a reality check and fast. Eijiro knew that his best friend’s days being a Pro-Hero were limited if he didn’t solidify his soulmate bond, that he would lose control or potentially lose his quirk all together. He knew that would kill him inside, and Kirishima couldn’t just idly sit by and let it happen. “Just go talk to her.”

“I don’t even know what her stupid name is.” Bakugo despised whatever emotion Kirishima was making him feel, in addition to the ones that were already muddling his mind. He felt small, even a bit belittled, from Red Riot’s sternness. As if suddenly, Katsuki didn’t know as much about the world as he thought he did. There was no word in his vocabulary that could properly convey what he felt in that moment. His pride, his nervousness, anxiety, fear—it was too much for him to swallow. All he could down at his moment was the alcohol in his hand.

“So ask her.”

“You know her, can’t you just tell me what her fucking name is?!” The minuscule spat between the two professional heroes had gone back and forth until both of their tall beer glasses were empty. Kirishima saw it as the perfect opportunity to get Katsuki to do his bidding, he just had to play it right. Which he hoped wouldn’t be as difficult as it could be, knowing Bakugo.

“Look, I gotta take a leak dude. You mind getting us the next round?” Before there could be a pause to cause another argument, the red haired man stood up abruptly from his bar stool and made his way towards the bathroom on the opposite side of the cafe closest to the door. Dammit, Bakugo thought. Even as academically brilliant as he was, he could still be manipulated and bested by such a dumb person, thanks to his lack of competence from his hazy mind. That's what he believed, anyway. Ground Zero, the king of denial, would never be able to admit that Kirishima was just right on these matters. Grumbling to himself, Katsuki shuffles towards the bar, coming face to face with his soulmate once again.

“Hey.”

Plastic Flowers Masterlist

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Thank you guys for checking out this story! I’ll be updating the chapters every Saturday! Chapter title taken from The Front Bottom’s song “The Plan (Fuck Jobs) off their album “Back On Top”.

Taglist:

@wwwwyamd​

[random-starker-archive]

Summary:

It’s probably better, Peter thinks, that he doesn’t know who his soulmate is. He wouldn’t want to lie to them about Spider-Man, but he doesn’t think he’d be able to tell them the truth, either. Not when he knows it would make them a target for every villain who wants a piece of him.

When he has enough free time to feel sorry for himself, he thinks about how lonely he is and how much he wants someone to talk to--just talk to. But he doesn’t really have that much free time. And anyways, there are thousands of lonely people in New York. Peter’s nothing special.

Rating: Mature

Warnings: No archive warnings apply

Words: 11 332

Chapters: 1/1

[random-spideypool-archive]

Summary:

It's almost Peter's 20th birthday, the day the name of his soul mate will be written on his wrist, and he knows exactly who it will be. He knows it will be Wade Wilson, it had to be. But everyone is telling him not to get his hopes up, including Wade himself. Of course it hurts when Wade talks like Peter's not going to get his name but that's just Wade being his self hating self... right?

Rating: Teen and up audiences

Warnings: No archive warnings apply

Words: 6 282

Chapters: 1/1

[kamuis-dream]

SoulMate AU

The commotion from the fight had started to calm down. People still crowded all over the street but the threat posed by the villian was finally over and he was being escorted into the back of a police cruiser; quirk nullifying cuffs safely fastened around his wrists. He still howled and yelled, trying to thrash free but without his strength boost or his spikes he was for the most part harmless. Police officers stood to the side directing traffic away from the destruction and guiding civilians to safety. Kamui shifted his gaze from the world around him and turned to his allie.

Hawks sat in the back of an ambulance getting his torso patched up. The villian had shot a barrage of spikes at Hawks while he was preoccupied with a civilian and they made contact a second before he was able to dodge. He appeared to be mostly unharmed but his shirt and jacket had been torn to shreds. Kamui slowly made his way over to him; slightly favoring his left leg after to took a fall a little too hard, he approached Hawks.

"Your not hurt too badly are you?"

@hawks-light

[random-gramander-archive]

Summary:

His father taps his finger against his inked wrist and smiles, loving and fond. “They say that your ink represents the soul of your other half, an unbreakable bond between you and the one you’re destined to be with.”

a soulmate au where people are marked with an ink tattoo that fills with colour only when they touch their soulmate for the first time.

(aka the one where newt has a thunderbird across his wrist and an entire world to search)

Rating: Teen and up audiences

Warnings: No archive warnings apply

Words: 28 600

Chapters: 10/10

[emperorsfoot]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

One-shot. 

Soulmates AU, Identifying Marks, Platonic Soulmates. 

[imagine-wannaone]

Hwang Minhyun Soulmate au!

Minhyun is up!

• So you have a tattoo and your soulmate will have the exact same one,

• Stretching across your back you have the black outlines of a desert fox leaping downward towards your hips,

• The lines curling with intricate details and patterns, the tail billowing up onto your shoulder and curling a little down your arm almost looks to be imitating fire,

• It’s all filled in and shaded with creamy oranges and browns,

• You have to say it is beautiful,

• It’s a shame you can only see it with mirrors,

• But boy did your parents scream in surprise when they picked you up when you where 5 and that had appeared,

• You didn’t know it was your soulmate key but you could feel it was already important to you,

• People were always asking to see it or something but you kind of didn’t want to show them,

• It’s special to you, yanno, and it’s yours and your soulmate only,

• But you’re nice so you show them anyway,

• Plus someone might know your soulmate and could introduce you two, you never know,

• What always gets you is you could walk past your soulmate every day and just not know,

• It could be curling across the back and you just Can’t!! See!! It!!

• Why do shirts exist, wouldn’t everything be easier without them?

• You’ve tried to draw your little fox forever, since you where 7, but it always seems to be missing something,

• It never seemed to hold the spirit you associate with it on your skin,

• If your soulmate is anywhere near as beautiful as people say your marking is, you’re lucky,

• You’re part of a dance troupe that enters a lot of competitions and does a load of back up dancing and things,

• There’s a competition and you’re stretching in your waiting room,

• Nervous as hell,

• It’s a group dance competition but there isn’t any sort of criteria for the dances,

• So a dance with B-boying could go against ballet,

• You and 5 others are doing a modern slow emotional number and damn,

• You hope you can make someone cry,

• Not with how awful it is god no, but with the emotion in the dance and how damn beautiful it is,

• Otherwise this’ll get awkward,

• You don’t specialise in anything in particular,

• Hip hop, ballet, modern, tap, you can do it all,

• Jack of all trades, master of none,

• (But better than a master of one, right?),

• You and your best friend are doing some mean partner stretches that can me compared to some complex next level partner yoga positions,

• You’re all wearing those tight shorts with a see through skirts and almost like a sports bra to showcase your marking in navy blue,

• Why can’t it be acceptable to dance in tracksuit bottoms and a hoodie in these competitions?

• Your small group make their way to the side of stage,

• The flowy skirts all seem to make it look like you’re drifting,

• You must admit it’s pretty,

• You get to watch the performance before you and it really doesn’t help,

• In any way at all,

• For so many reasons,

• You are ready to run away, and not just because of the dance,

• Which is extremely extra by the way,

• It looks like hip hop, 11 boys moving incredibly quickly and in sync to the beat and-

• Holy shit was that some taekwondo?

• It’s okay you got this, your aerial cartwheel looks as elegant as they can get,

• The thing that grabs your attention and makes you forget everything is one boy,

• Smooth looking brown hair bounces with the beat and his careful features meld into each other in a way sculptures could never capture,

• His skin is unbelievably clear and he dances like every move was made especially for him, with a confidence you only hope you dance with,

• Your breath is caught in your throat but his outfit doesn’t help,

• He’s wearing a open back shirt and you can see the swirling patterns with orange hues that paint his back and move with his muscles,

• He dances with all the stealth and agility of a desert fox and it all makes sense,

• “Y/N, are you okay, do you want to sit down?” your best friend has also spotted him , a huge smile spread across her face,

• You can feel the happiness In your chest but the panic is in your head,

• What if he doesn’t want you?

• What if your dance isn’t good enough?

• Okay that’s over exaggeration of course you dance is good enough- it’ll blow his mind,

• Your not going to let your soulmate get in the way of your performance though,

• No one gets in the way of you and your passion,

• Except spiders, 

• (Australia pls tell me how to survive spiders, asking for a friend),

• Your head becomes slightly dizzy when the boys walk past you off stage,

• But then they smile at your group and a few wish you good luck, and your head clears,

• The 6 of you float onto the stage and you can hear the whispers,

• It could be about the last boys, about your performance or what they’re having for dinner,

• But your mind makes you think it’s about you,

• Many people often whisper About your marking when they see it,

• And they might have put the pieces together and sussed out you’re competing against your soulmate,

• YOUR SOULMATE,

• That sounds so weird,

• The lights brighten on your group, caught in the still image that’ll start your performance when the music comes on,

• You watch the boys file into their seat in the crowd, like all performers do after they’ve finished their dance,

• You’re calm, you can flow like the wind and move like a stream,

• You can be as fierce as fire or as gentle as a feather,

• You can do this,

• You get through your performance better than you ever had in practice, 

• Even you can feel the emotions radiating off of the others,

• You pour in all of your feelings right at that moment into your movements,

• The dance shows the love between 2 people who had both lost their soulmates, and were mending each other in their own ways,

• Love between 2 people who aren’t soulmates is always a risky subject but what is art without a meaning?

• In the end one of the people dies from heart break and leaves the other person (A.K.A. you) alone to survive in a world where everyone else is coupled off completely alone,

• You can feel his eyes on you as you jolt into your final position, quietly heaving, not just the dance making you breathless,

• You don’t know how you know it’s his eyes, but you do,

• God, your already soft for the man before you’ve even made eye contact,

• But you have watched each other dance, which is a whole different level of intimacy,

• Your group bows and glides off stage, arms slung around each other in exhilaration,

• The 6 of you jog towards the seating for dancers but you spot him stood at the side eyes fixed on you as if you’re something unobtainable,

• You stop dead in your tracks a couple of steps away from him, just beaming at him, 

• He cracks the most beautiful smile that has ever touched your eyes, one that breaks through his delicate features to show an completely innocent look,

• “That was the most beautiful thing I think I’ve ever seen,”

• Before you know it your legs have closed the gaps and you’ve thrown your arms around him because nothing else feels more natural,

• The rest of the crowd pretends they’re not watching,

• Because not many things is more beautiful than watching two soulmates meet, right?

• You break away and spin him around

• (Much to his surprise),

• You run your fingers along the swirling lines of a desert fox and choke a laugh,

• It is as stunning as everyone says, the lines connect and twist in a way that seems effortless and easy, although you can see it isn’t,

• He shivers when you trail over the patterns on his spine and you blush, stepping away,

• But then he takes the opportunity and does the same, his touch on your back tingling with warmth,

• You win the competition and you have no doubt who you owe the win to,

• Your dance group because they taught you how to dance and encouraged you for years,

• Okay maybe Minhyun as well for the emotion,

• You all have a after party to celebrate and Minhyun and his group is definitely forced to come invited,

• You totally don’t spend the night dancing with your soulmate…

• Cus damn he knows how to move, look at that body roll and-

• Stop, you only met today,

• Dancing seems to link the two of you in a way no one else can understand,

• The next competition you enter it’s another slow song,

• As a duo,

• Cue your friend squealing at your cute choreography,

• Your two groups always have dance battles or do collaborations,

• Which are dangerous damn, two of the strongest groups together?

• All the other groups fear the day,

• But more importantly you always make sure to enter the same competitions to show them how it’s done,

• The next competition you entered you did a hip hop dance,

• Minhyun was not prepared ™

• Low key had to take a breather outside,

• But he met you out there too because you also had to take a breather-  his dance was too extra for your poor heart,

• Whenever you dance together you stretch together and Minhyun takes over from your best friend,

• (They conveniently had to stretch with someone else),

• So you high key become that cheesy couple you see at the gym that seems intimidating and scarily synchronized,

• You guys become infamous for your performances,

• The judges are shook, the crowd is shook, your competitors are shook, the scouts are shook, your neighbor is shook,

• Many scouts approach you two,

• You aren’t going to hold back in competitions just because he’s your soulmate though,

• And damn boi, neither does he,

• You don’t really plan to go on dates but you just find yourselves in the cinema or eating lunch at the park together or going to dance shows,

• Forever doing freestyle dances with no planning Together and you just seem to know what the other will do and flow perfectly,

• Low key have the power to make others cry if you want to,

• But the familiarity with each other from the beginning is no joke,

• He knows you love back hugs and you know he love it when you nuzzle into his neck,

• Fit into each others arms like you’re one made for one another,

• Which I mean, you are , you’re soulmates 

Tbh this one was really fun to write. I don’t know a hell of a lot about dancing but it’s incredibly cool so I hope this is good, thanks for reading~

[klanceficatalogue]

Does it Bother Anyone Else (that someone else has your name) by DeerstalkingDeathFrisbee (1/1 | 4,500 | General)

The first words your soulmate says to you are written on your skin - Keith was born with 'Hi my name is - ' written over his heart. Lance has 'Holy fuck, are you okay?' scrawled on his arm.