The Most Unlikely – Pomeclaw.

The short adventures of Bonten's No4

Bonten x f reader

Warnings- Slight manga spoilers, language also light descriptions of injuries and blood.

Summary: Y/N is Bonten's first female member, she's their skilled and deadly No4. So why can't she just have some peace and quiet in her own bathroom!?

Ch1- Reader can't have her private bathroom in Bonten

There were perks to being the only female member of Bonten, people underestimated you which made business easier and being the cute one of the group meant you could convince Mikey to give you whatever jobs you wanted. But the best perk had to be having your own bathroom, after all no one was else going to use the women's room right? Or so you thought, because it turns out no one in Bonten understands or respects boundaries.

It starts with Sanzu because of course it does, the second you stepped into the bathroom he practically hissed at you and told you to stop making so much noise. Now being that you are the only woman in Bonten you wasn't expecting anyone else to be in the women's room, so the sudden voice immediately put you on edge and instincts kicked in. Suddenly Sanzu had a knife pressed against his throat while you had a gun against your head, as he retaliated. You both lower your weapons when you realise each other's identities. Sanzu then gives you a grin that's a little too wide to be entirely sane and explains he was just using the bathroom as a hiding place from the others, to give him a chance to work through his hangover from the night before. You sigh, because of course he would choose your private bathroom for his hiding place. And unfortunately for you he takes a liking to hiding there, now you frequently run into him trying to work through his headaches in your private space.

You've also come to learn that Mikey is no better, your boss has no boundaries and will just waltz into the women's bathroom whenever he pleases. Most of the time it's because he's looking for you or just following you into the bathroom to continue his conversation. You've tried to explain many times to him before that this isn't appropriate and that he can just wait outside. But unfortunately for you everytime he just tilts his head to the left and gives you a cute blank expression. So you always just sigh and leave him be, after all he's not doing too much harm right?

Though you vaguely wonder if Mikey's disregard for the women's room has influenced Koko. It's hard to remember but you're sure Koko never used to follow you into the bathroom, he probably noticed Mikey doing it at some point and decided he could join in too. You'll just be minding your own business walking to the bathroom when suddenly you're getting a lecture about how you went over budget on your last job. Koko walks damn fast too so you can't even hope to outpace him. He'll just follow you straight into the bathroom to continue his little lecture. He gets so into it that sometimes you wonder if he even realises he's in the women's bathroom.

At least Kakucho has the decency to look embarrassed whenever you catch him in the women's room. He looked like a deer in headlights the first time you caught him. You both froze and just stared at each other for what felt like hours but probably only lasted seconds. You were about to question him when Mikey suddenly kicked down the door and whisked you away for an "important meeting" but what actually turned out to be lunch. You soon forgot about the Kakucho incident until it happened again a week later. You walk into the bathroom to find him washing his hands. This time though he gives you an almost sheepish look as he explains how overcrowded the men's room is. You just nod in understanding and inwardly curse because you don't have the heart to kick him out. So much for your private bathroom.

When Mikey banned smoking inside, you were secretly overjoyed, you had never been a fan of smoke. Besides now the smoke alarms would stop going off twice a day. However you didn't realise the smoking ban was going to bring annoying consequences for you. Specifically yet another visitor to your bathroom and this one brought smoke with him. When you first noticed the lingering scent of smoke in the bathroom you assumed Sanzu had accidently started a fire, so being the woman of action that you are. You grabbed a fire extinguisher, kicked the door open and and sprayed the foam all over a surprised Takeomi. He screamed, you screamed and from outside you faintly heard Sanzu screaming for dominance. It didn't take a genius to figure out what Takeomi was doing in your bathroom, the window was propped open while his cigarette had been dropped to the floor in suprise. Even after the fire extinguisher incident he keeps coming back to the bathroom, lingering around like the scent of his smoke.

Who had committed a murder in your bathroom!? That was your first thought when you saw the blood all over the door, your second thought was whoever commited the murder was going to die next. Reaching for your gun, you open the door slowly and peek inside. There are puddles of blood on the floor and an injured Mochi by the sink. Sighing since you can't just leave your colleague to bleed out in the bathroom you break into action. You help Mochi clean and wrap his wounds and even take the time to clean your bathroom. It's not an easy job but at least it's a one time thing......So you thought because it suddenly becomes a tradition of his. He'll finish whatever job he was sent to do and instead of going to the infirmary or even the men's room. He'll come straight to your bathroom to wash the blood away and treat any injuries. A part of you is touched that he must trust you enough to come to you when he's in such a vulnerable state. But its not enough to outweigh your annoyance at finding your bathroom all bloody. You vaguely wish you let him bled out that first time, it would've solved so many problems and helped you save so much money on cleaning products.

You needed someone to vent to about all the bathroom problems, unfortunately you chose Ran. You realise complaining about your bathroom predicament to Ran was a bad idea the next morning. Precisely the moment you walked into the bathroom to find Ran lounging about by the sinks with a lazy smirk on his face. Cursing to yourself you wonder why you told Ran of all people about this. Of course the cocky bastard practically lives to tease you so of course he would take advantage of this situation to annoy you more. It soon becomes a daily routine, you walking into the bathroom to find Ran already there, waiting for you. He refuses to break eye contact and always has a condescending look on his face. No matter how desperate you are you refuse to go with him there, which sometimes leaves you squirming all through the meeting. You needed to find a way to fix this fast.

A body guard, that's all you wanted. Just someone who could remove Ran from the bathroom so you could go in peace. So how did it end up like this? You figured Rindou would be perfect for this role, he was more serious then Ran and surely Ran would listen to his brother right? Wrong, all you've done is unleashed two demons into your bathroom. What's even worse is they have appeared to make it into a competition for who can annoy you the most. It went from smirks and winks to questions like what colour panties are you wearing today? To touching, it's not uncommon for one of them to pin you against the wall and suggest you both make use of the empty bathroom. Punching them doesn't even work, they just laugh it off asking if you like it rough. They even brought in spare chairs from the meeting room to make the bathroom more comfortable. You vaguely wonder why you can't just pee in peace anymore.

That's it, you've had enough and finally snapped. All you wanted to do was use the bathroom but upon walking in there you find Mikey asleep on the sinks, Koko impatiently tapping his foot waiting for you, Rindou and Ran sitting in their chairs immediately grinning when they see you. Not to mention Akashi fanning smoke out of the window, Sanzu massaging his head and a pool of what you're assuming was Mochi's blood. The second you take all this in you walk straight out of the bathroom. You figure if they can break the bathroom rules then you can too, so you march to the men's room. You throw the door open and find it empty, probably because everyone is in the women's room instead and you finally get your private bathroom. 

Next chapter

Link to ao3 below

Magic once existed; this is a proven historic fact. But when the dragons deemed mankind unworthy and left the mortal realm, they took all magic with them. Now, one stands before you with a proposition…

Hi there mari darling<3 so can i request a highschool au where kakucho,izana(im not sure if u write for him but if you dont you can write for someone else) and haitani brothers where they are deeply and madly inlove with a shy and a nerd reader.like no bullying and all just them being in love with her.i love you so much<33

Tenjiku crushing on shy reader (college AU!)

A/N: Hi love! I hope you don’t mind me doing it as college AU! since I usually age the characters up. Enjoy <3

Characters: Izana, Kakucho, Rindou, Ran

Izana:

Izana is a man of confidence and assertiveness, yet his heart belonged to someone of the opposite, Y/N, his shy and reserved classmate.

The white haired boy always had a crush on you, even when he wanted to look away, he couldn’t, you were too pretty to look away from.

“Cute” he’d mutter under his breath as he watches you scribble notes that no one else in lecture class was taking.

Although you made Izana’s heart beat fast every time he saw you, he would never shy away from you, in fact he would openly admire you.

“Is this seat taken y/n-chan?” He’d ask ever so smoothly, before taking a seat next to you when you shake your head.

“You’re so smart y/n chan, can you help me study?” he’ll ask immediately after, “sure!” you reply with that damn adorable smile, making him lose his breath.

And as you try to explain your notes to him, you couldn’t help but feel his stare, and when you looked up, you were met with a pretty shade of lilac eyes.

“Izana?” You ask anxiously.

“You’re so pretty” he sighed with his hand on his chin, stuck in a lovesick gaze as he watched you blush.

Kakucho:

Kakucho Hitto, everyone on campus knows him as Izana’s best friend. His very cute best friend

Everyone also knows him as the guy who has a crush on y/n 😭

He made it too obvious. The blush that would adorn his face when you’d enter class, Izana continuously nudging him, the way the usually intimidating boy would start blushing and getting defensive whenever anyone asked him about you.

And it all started because you once shyly told him his scar is pretty <3

But even though he would get flustered at your beauty, he’d overcome his shyness and walk you back to your dorm

Well actually it’s because Izana threatened to tell you the truth if he didn’t make a move 💀

“Pretty cold huh?” Kakucho said, looking up at the grey clouds, hoping to initiate some conversation. “Mhm” you agree shyly. Then you suddenly felt a hand brush against your own

“b-body warmth helps.. Izana said” he reasoned, looking away so you don’t see the blush on his face as you smile and hold his much larger hand.

Rindou:

Rindou knew you, his crush for a year now, didn’t think much about him. After all, he didn’t initiate much conversation with you, but that’s because he didn’t know how. What if he came across too rude? Too cold? He wouldn’t want to put a frown on your pretty little face.

That’s why he settled for non verbal ways of courting you.

He randomly sit down next to you in classes, telling whoever was planning to sit next to you to fuck off.

He won’t talk to you or even fully smile at you, usually he’ll place your favourite drink on the desk, muttering “it’s for you” because turning back to his laptop.

Wait how did he know your favourite dri- never mind.

One day, you felt brave and decided to initiate talk, “oh! I like that song too” you say shyly, looking down at his phone. He looks up at you for a second, his lazy eyes taking in your features before he leaned forward and placed an earphone in your ear. Leaving you more flustered than before.

Even your friends were left so confused by him. So they took into into their own hands to ask him before class began, despite your protests. “Hey Rindou! You like y/n or something?”

Rindou, slightly tilted his head before looking you directly in the eyes. “Yes”

Ran:

Ran likes you.

And I mean A LOT. And it’s about to become everyone on campus’ problem because he’s going to do everything possible to have your attention.

Ran’s crush on you is beyond obvious. No one even feels the need to mention it because they’re so used to seeing him tease you.

Yes, his love language is teasing so you’re in for a damn ride.

Tries to sit next to you in class always. If you happen to be sitting a bit far from him, he’ll stretch his long leg out, wrap it around your chair legs and tug you forward, making you blush in bewilderment when you suddenly find yourself face to face with him

Plays footsies with you under tables!

He likes offering you bike rides back to dorm. “It’s okay Ran, it’s only a 10 min walk” you reason with a shy smile, he leans forward to admire that pretty smile before replying “but pretty people like you shouldn’t walk for 10 mins” with a playful pout.

You laugh softly before joining him on the bike from behind. He audibly hums at the feeling of you wrapping your arms around his waist tightly.

At the traffic light, he leans back so that he’s slightly leaning on you “hey pretty, go out on a date with me in Roppongi soon?” he says with a genuine smile.

Five years, six months

A/N: We have Sabo next on the series! I decided to post the same picture on each one, so I hope you don’t mind! Also! This time the child’s name has a meaning that is related with uh… the story?

Tomomi: beautiful wisdom. 

I basically wanted to portray the child’s personality with his name, also, I see Sabo as someone who’s very wise, so it’s also because of that! I hope i’m making sense here. Anyway, I hope you enjoyr this. I’M SORRY IS TOO LONG AAAAAAH.

Words: 2,942 (this one is longer aaaaaaah. under the cut!)

“Sweet God, I can’t believe you”, Sabo mumbles as you turn around to find the same tree for the second time. He lets out a long sigh.

“Excuse me? This is not my fault, Sabo”, you say, ears and cheeks burning angrily and because of the sun above.

This was supposed to be an easy mission, you and Sabo would take care of it since you always work together very well. However, everything went wrong today, the map of the island you received was the one Koala was supposed to get, and Sabo and you have been going around this tropical island for about an hour with nowhere to go.

The sun was burning your skin, the water was almost over and food was already digesting in his and your belly. And, above all, Sabo was angry. He was furious and, for some reason, he decided that the reason of his distress was you and only you.

“Well, if it’s not your fault then why are we lost while you are, in fact, holding the map?”, he snaps, finally stopping and crossing his arms above his chest, looking at you with a raised eyebrow.

His hat was still on, but his jacket was off and his hair was tied up in a little ponytail. He looked amazing, but you can’t say that right now, you can’t even think about that again as he looks at you with those eyes. Blaming you.

“They gave us the wrong map! Koala probably has ours! It wasn’t my frigging fault! I didnt-

“But you’re always like this! Distracted and thinking about other things when you shouldn’t. I even get tired of your stupidity!”

A part of you wanted to believe that Sabo was exhausted, because you were too. Your feet were begging for you to stop walking and your legs and your whole body just begged somewhere fresh where you could take a nap and have food, so you understood that Sabo was feeling this way.

But, he wasn’t allowed to say such things. You were his right hand, for God’s sake! He chose you because of your abilities and aptitudes, even before you both started dating. Even before you both started liking each other. He gave you his trust and you were loyal to him and to the Revolutionary Army.

He has no right to say such things.

But you don’t want to fight, even if you’re feeling your blood boiling, you don’t want to fight because fighting will not solve your problems, so you sigh, long and tiredly and look at him with calm eyes.

“This is the second time I’m telling you this, Sabo. This is not my fault. You’re not listening to me. They gave us-

“Accept your mistakes, [Name]!”, he interrupts you again. “ You should’ve looked that map even before we started following it!”, you growl low in your throat as you turn the map for him to look at it. It was ridiculous.

“it’s a frigging piece of paper, Sabo! It’s not even a real map! How am I supposed to kn-

“I wouldn’t be surprised if some day someone tell me you’re dead!” You flinch at the poison on his words. “You always have your mind somewhere else! I wouldn’t even care, [Name]!”

Keep reading

Good Traits Gone Bad

Exploring good traits gone bad in a novel can add depth and complexity to your characters. Here are a few examples of good traits that can take a negative turn:

1. Empathy turning into manipulation: A character with a strong sense of empathy may use it to manipulate others' emotions and gain an advantage.

2. Confidence becoming arrogance: Excessive confidence can lead to arrogance, where a character belittles others and dismisses their opinions.

3. Ambition turning into obsession: A character's ambition can transform into an unhealthy obsession, causing them to prioritize success at any cost, including sacrificing relationships and moral values.

4. Loyalty becoming blind devotion: Initially loyal, a character may become blindly devoted to a cause or person, disregarding their own well-being and critical thinking.

5. Courage turning into recklessness: A character's courage can morph into reckless behavior, endangering themselves and others due to an overestimation of their abilities.

6. Determination becoming stubbornness: Excessive determination can lead to stubbornness, where a character refuses to consider alternative perspectives or change their course of action, even when it's detrimental.

7. Optimism becoming naivety: Unwavering optimism can transform into naivety, causing a character to overlook dangers or be easily deceived.

8. Protectiveness turning into possessiveness: A character's protective nature can evolve into possessiveness, where they become overly controlling and jealous in relationships.

9. Altruism becoming self-neglect: A character's selflessness may lead to neglecting their own needs and well-being, to the point of self-sacrifice and burnout.

10. Honesty becoming brutal bluntness: A character's commitment to honesty can turn into brutal bluntness, hurting others with harsh and tactless remarks.

These examples demonstrate how even admirable traits can have negative consequences when taken to extremes or used improperly. By exploring the complexities of these traits, you can create compelling and multi-dimensional characters in your novel.

Happy writing!

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All the wounds you healed (and all the pain you caused)

☆ characters: idol!soonyoung & you ☆ genre: soulmate au, angst, fluff ☆ warnings: low self-esteem, anxiety, neglection, depression ☆ summary: A soulmate is a person who is as perfect for you as one can be. Then why is your relationship with Soonyoung so hard to keep alive? ☆ words: 11,6k ☆ also: i’d like to dedicate this story to my soulmate, @dat-town​. ♥ what did i learn during our 8th year together? that sometimes things aren’t ideal, but until we care for each other, everything will be alright. ♥ thank you so much for being a part of my life.

It had taken you a little longer than two decades to figure out what your soulmate mark was exactly since you were one of those people whose connection with their significant other was invisible, but at least those years behind your back that you had spent thinking you didn’t have a destined lover had prepared you for the heartache.

Keep reading

The Plot Twist | 01

Summary: Once upon a time you would have jumped at the chance to live the idol girlfriend life. The cameras, the action, the whirlwind romance. But what was once a dream has now become your worst nightmare, and you fully intend to fight the universe as it repeatedly conspires to set you up with your seven perfectly good soulmates from Bangtan Sonyeondan.

In which we punt Y/N into all the fanfiction tropes and you do your feral best to subvert the love story.

Because nani the fuck, you are The Plot Twist.

Pairing: OT7 X Fem!Reader

Genre: Soulmate!AU, crack, humor, idol!AU, light angst, slow burn, romantic comedy, just a fun silly old time

Rating: 18+

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AN: Hello all!

This is a fic that is being co-written by @blog-name-idk and @eserethriddle (who also has their own crack/soulmate subversion AU which is INCREDIBLE and HILARIOUS go read it). The inspiration for this fic was that one meme about the anime protagonist avoiding their fate, and then it became a monster. We are having a great time writing this and we hope you enjoy it as well!

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Chapter 1: "What are soulmates, even?"

A prevailing belief amongst the aging population of overbearing parents is that an unattached woman, of average birth and social standing, professionally situated in one of the high-rise buildings in modern-day Seoul, must be in natural want of three things the very morning she turns twenty-five: an envelope of birthday money, a spa coupon, and a blind date prospect. Society’s elders allege that the advent of the twenty-fifth age prompts the rightful transition of the child-minded miss into a full woman, the barest hints of her girlish whims to be cast aside for her foray into the next, imperative stage of life.

Ha! Whatever the hell that next stage is, you have absolutely no care, no inclination to find out. Altruistic as they pretend to be, those very same elders are possibly bored, amateur matchmakers, or worse: aspiring grandparents.

You have your own priorities. You're living the good, simple life of binge-eating all the snacks you can now afford, buying questionable decorations for your single-bedroom loft, and, with undeniable consistency, sleeping in and gaming at ambiguous hours. Half-baked attempts at health fads and investments in miracle under-eye creams notwithstanding, you're barely halfway through your twenties but already living the dream!

Whatever that happens to you after this point? Unimportant. You have all the time in the world and your inner child to appease.

Heavy footfalls thump across the wooden floor of your bedroom, abruptly pulling you from the safehaven of your subconscious. The shrill, scraping noise of your floor-to-ceiling curtains being pulled open flag your internal alarm, but the matronly scolding that greets your senses, voiced in a too-familiar hometown dialect, subdues it just as quickly as it comes.

Burying your face into your pillow with a weak groan, you resign yourself to the loss of another wonderful morning spent in bed.

You should have known this would happen. As long as this woman breathes you will never know true peace.

“Eomma.” You scowl, throwing your blanket to the side as you sit upright on the bed. “This is exactly why I moved out.”

“Bah! Look at you!” your mother scoffs as she takes in your bedraggled appearance. “I booked you an appointment at The Deluxe and instead you want to waste it?” Busying herself all over the room, bending over and picking up litter – the remains of your night's valiant efforts – she crows, “And all these junk food wrappers on the floor! You pigged out, playing those games all night again!”

Well… yes, there was no denying that. It had taken you until early hours of the dawn (and three much needed, middle-of-the-night, rage-reducing convenience store trips) to reach your current savepoint in-game. Although it seems highly unlikely that your mother would be impressed by your latest feat at Super Mario – Kaizo, because somewhere inside you rests an unlovable, masochistic monster – you still cannot find it in yourself to want to change the way you had spent the previous night given half the chance.

Your mother, bless her old-fashioned heart, is simply predisposed to worry about your dubious gamer-slash-working-girl lifestyle, which, not only being within her rights, is also completely understandable! So as long as you kept up visible effort at maintaining the “beauty sleep and charm regimen” she swore by, she usually fell somewhere between unbothered and complacent.

But no. Not today.

"What did you threaten the landlord with to get the key this time?" you query under your breath, too quiet for her to hear. Sleep-addled as you are, you still have some sense of self-preservation.

It just… doesn’t help that your whole face looks as puffy as it feels. Judging by the tight set of your mother’s mouth also reflected by your bedside mirror, her slanted eyes pinned on you, you're sure she’s set to try and advertise the benefits of gua sha within the next minute.

Clearly, getting your own apartment had afforded you more freedom, but not the complete detachment you had been hoping for. And that was fine – every so often you do have the solo-living blues and miss her grapevine chitchat – it just isn’t apparent to you now in your half-comatose state, berated even before you have a chance to obtain caffeine.

Sighing in defeat, you move up and lean against the headboard. Your swollen eyes try to peek past the door frame, to no success. There’s an undeniably hopeful lilt to your voice when you ask, “So appa’s here, too?”

“Ha! That man drank himself silly, crying all night long!” At the mention of your father, your mother’s tone transitions from frenzied to fond, soft mirth dancing in the brown of her eyes. “‘Starting tomorrow she won’t be my girl no more,’ he’d said! It was a right mess! Your uncles had to help me carry him home…” she prattles.

Rounding the bed as she makes her way to you, she pulls you close to her chest, surrounding you with the comforting, familiar scent of her – and your – favorite laundry detergent and the faint smell of the kimchi she had for breakfast. She places a doting kiss on the top of your head then assures you in a rather soft murmur, “Sorry, sweetheart. He’s not here. He was so down he couldn’t even get out of bed, but he’ll call you later when he feels better, I’m sure.”

“Alright,” you concede, melting into her embrace and choosing to let her love bloom in your chest instead. Sometimes you complain about her lightning-fast mood changes from holy terror to loving mother, but after twenty-five years of being your appa’s girl, you figure you can give her this one morning. You snuggle into her. “Thanks for coming over, eomma. I can already smell the seaweed soup.”

“Of course, dear. I heated it up. Happy birthday.” She angles your face upward and pinches your cheeks.

You groan and paw at her to fight her off, but the playful moment is broken when she holds your face hostage and threatens very seriously, “If you don’t make it to the appointment, I’ll drive you to that speed-dating event in Hannam myself. I know for a fact they’re taking walk-ins tonight.”

“But eomma…” you whine, feeling like a fool for letting her motherly love lull you into a false sense of security, “I’m the birthday girl! Shouldn’t I get to decide my itinera–”

A familiar gleam flashes in her eyes and you immediately pinch your lips shut.

You may have gotten your father’s dimpled smile, but the stubborn fire in your spirit, the fierce glow of your gaze… These are the attributes that make you a famed corporate demon and Nintendo speedrunner.

These traits are also definitely, absolutely, undeniably from your mother. And alas, she has had more years and recognition in perfecting her technique.

With the Hyundai car keys twirling around her index finger, you just know she’ll make good on her threat. Your mother, dramatic as she can be, is bull-headed enough to follow through on every ridiculous warning she makes.

Another quality you yourself have inherited.

Glancing at the clock, you scramble off your mess of sheets and pillows and hastily set your feet onto the hardwood floor. Chuckling nervously as you avoid the course of consoles and controllers strewn about the room, you wonder aloud, for no reason at all, “The appointment has a fifteen-minute grace period… right?”

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You don’t know what happened after stepping into The Deluxe, not exactly. Scrambling past the morning rush on foot, desperate to avoid all kinds of traffic in your anxious, sleep-deprived state, you barely even recall getting to the spa’s reception area in time.

Upon confirming your appointment, a chic lady handed you a satin robe and ushered you into a private room, pointing you to your assigned spa bed with a gentle, amicable smile. Hypnotizing oils and calming tones sang to your senses, beckoning you to slumber with the promise of warmth and safety. The moment the lights dimmed and the massage therapist placed her hands on you, kneading your stiff shoulders, total exhaustion had taken over and you’d blacked out. An instant, indisputable K.O.

When you woke up it felt like you had re-spawned. Misplaced and mistakenly rearranged, put back together in a whole different body. You weren’t even sure if a body spa was all that had happened… You wonder for a moment if you might have been secretly brainwashed and implanted with a trigger command to kill an unsuspecting prime minister somewhere down the line, but you figure the gods have something else planned for a plain shut-in like you. Surely something less cinematic?

Seeing your reflection in the mirror, your split ends gone and your hair somehow now highlighting your best features, your face made up… Well, now it's clear that a lot more had happened to you. Your skin feels creamy to the touch and smells like rich patchouli, your nails are trimmed and painted ballet pink. You doubt their in-house aestheticians had taken one look at you – dehydrated and soulless to the brim – and voluntarily offered their services… Perhaps your mother did splurge and book you the full blowout package.

In that case, considering the luxurious upkeep of The Deluxe, you send your mother a heartfelt message of thanks followed by a cheerful selfie before finally stepping out to stroll through the nearby streets of Yongsan.

Unlike your usual self, you actually feel good. Very, very good. Beautiful, and rested.

Who wouldn’t love turning twenty-five if this was all it entailed?

As you make your way across the uptown plaza, the phone in your tote bag vibrates suddenly, chiming its innocent, dulcet tones. You stop, retrieve the gadget, and stare at the institution-registered number on the display screen of your phone before clicking to accept the call.

“Hello?” you answer tentatively, hoping you're not about to get called for jury duty.

“Good day. Is this L/N F/N?”

“Yes, but who…?”

“I am Junior Liaison Officer Choi Mijin from the Ministry of Korean Domestic Affairs. I understand you turned twenty-five today, L/N F/N-ssi. In accordance with Republic Act 134340 promulgated January of this year, this is your mandatory communication from the Soulmate Registry Department. May I proceed with the orientation, or is this a bad time?”

“Huh?”

Did she just say soulmate…?

You blink once. Just ten meters from where you stood, a squealing toddler startles and chases away a flock of unsuspecting pigeons perched on the brickstone plaza, wings fluttering against air and cobble. The cacophony washes over you in a raucous echo.

You blink again, stupefied. “Sorry, what?”

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“I understand this must be confusing for you. Although our record here indicates that your parents are soulmates, L/N F/N-ssi?”

“M-My parents?” you stammer. There was that word again!

Despite your obvious bewilderment, Junior Liaison Officer Choi Mijin remains unfazed. Not missing a beat, she draws in a quick breath and launches into a clearly scripted monologue: “Historically speaking, the Soulmate Phenomenon was first observed to affect a significant percentage of the adult human population by sociological groups and academic societies. Throughout the years, in tandem with the discoveries of international research institutes and medical community programs based locally, the national government has authorized a domestic agency to advise the public on matters that directly concern their health, relationships, and cosmological well-being. The current research consensus theorizes this phenomenon to be amplified by genetics, meaning that those with parents who are soulmates are highly likely to experience the phenomenon themselves. On these grounds, to offer you a better civilian life, we at the Soulmate Registry Department would like to confirm if you, L/N F/N-ssi, have been experiencing symptoms relating to this phenomenon…?”

You don't reply, locked in a cage of dumbfounded silence. Junior Liaison Officer Choi Mijin simply continues as response, “If so, I am pleased to report that cosmic interference will now rise to thirty-eight percent, with a ten percent margin of error per day, per soulmate–”

“Cosmic interference?” you interrupt, still quite lost in disbelief. "Per soulmate? What?”

"It's possible to have more than one soulmate," replies the desk worker, matter-of-fact. In rehearsed evenness, she elaborates, "It is the department's official advice for soulmates to initiate friendship at first introduction. Otherwise, aggravated cosmic interference can be expected, and may even escalate to public duress."

“Aggravated…? Duress? Uh, give me a second.” You pinch the flesh of your arm. “Ow.”

Eventually, after getting some of your thoughts in order, you manage to ask, "But what if I answered that I wasn't experiencing any of the symptoms? That I don't have a… soul-mate?" The word slides weird and heavy off your tongue.

"Ah. In such cases, please do not be alarmed. The natural implication is that you may continue to live life as usual," the girl's tinny voice reassures. "If you do not have a soulmate then you will not be subjected to visual, somatic, auditory, kinesthetic, olfactory, or gustatory anomalies. This kind of life is plain, but also advantageous, in its own way."

…Too much. This is just too much.

“But what if I do? What if I do have a soulmate, but I don't want to acknowledge it? What if I want to keep my life as it is?"

Choi Mijin pauses, not having a prepared response for the first time.

"Hm? Let me look that up." After audible typing noises and the near-infinite scrolling of her computer mouse carrying over, she finally speaks again. "Hmm. Nah. Nope. Not in our F.A.Q.’s. I wouldn’t not advise against that, no.”

Those were so many negatives you don’t even know what had been implied in the first place.

“I could forward the call to my supervisor," Mijin suggests, trying to be helpful. “The average standby time is one hour and forty minutes. Do you want me to?”

Massaging your temple with your free hand, you attempt to ignore the blooming headache ruining your prior good mood. "I… guess not? I’m not experiencing anything, Choi Mijin-ssi. That just means I don’t have… a soulmate… right?”

Mijin makes a grunt of assent. "Correct. If you did have a soulmate, you’d have to submit forms DR-2a and FS-3c to our main office in Hongdae. There are housing subsidies, minimal tax deductions, and life insurance programs that can be applied for.”

You do not know what else to say. Of course bureaucracy would somehow be involved in the systematization of the soulmate phenomena. You clear your throat and settle for, “Ah.”

“For now, L/N F/N-ssi, your status with us is PR - Pending Registry. Please confirm your status with us in person within the year, else the aforementioned benefits are considered irredeemable. Late registration is prohibited by the Ministry of Korean Domestic Affairs. This is only to ensure civilian and public safety, you understand?”

“Um.”

You look down, stare at your sandaled feet.

You can feel your toes, yes. You're alive, yes. You look at your hands and see all five fingers.

This is real life, yes.

“Yeah, okay. I understand… I think. Hmm. Yes.”

“Great. And, ah, happy birthday. I guess. Twenty-five sure is… something.” Ever since the beginning of the conversation, it is only at this moment that the liaison officer’s tone betrays her professional disposition. Despite your inner turmoil, you do feel for the girl on telephone duty as she sighs and says, “I’m really not paid enough for this.”

The line goes dead, and you’re left to pretend your world has not just shot off its axis.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Kim Namjoon loves the chaos that is his fucking life.

It’s just. He constantly struggles to be the pillar of peace in the middle of it all.

"What are soulmates, even," whines Namjoon. "People who share the same taste in music? People who finish each other's–"

"–sandwiches?" Jeon Jungkook suggests, throwing a hopeful look at the snack in Namjoon’s hand.

Namjoon sighs in defeat and tosses the gremlin his sandwich. It’s gone in seconds.

No, really. Namjoon loves his life. Despite the near-chronic muscle ache and subtle paranoia that comes with baring his artistic, musical persona at a global scale on the daily, Namjoon still truly believes his life is wonderful. It’s meaningful, it’s spontaneous, and he never feels stuck. In fact, he gets to wake up assured that the world has something new planned for him. He gets to navigate life with a profound sense of purpose each day because he gets to rise from bed, head to the bathroom, take a look in the mirror and complain, “Which one of you did this bullshit?!” in countless, exasperated variations.

Because he is truly, utterly blessed.

Namjoon collapses against the plush armchair and rests his legs on the coffee table (yes, like a neanderthal), reinvestigating the faint bruising he’d found this morning on his limbs. Reaching over, he presses on his blemished skin and feels nothing.

“Taehyung’s been practicing cartwheels again,” he realizes.

The entirety of it had overwhelmed Namjoon, at first. Despite his height, he’d acted like a giddy kid about it, because nobody else in his family had – or even seriously regarded the concept of – soulmates. The library books he’d consulted said he was unlikely to experience the phenomena for himself, and so he’d thought what was happening to him was some type of ghost experience, shamanistic punishment, or hallucination that accompanied the grievances of becoming older. That his mind had finally reached its breaking point. Since he was, after all, for the past ten years, what people would refer to as, overworked.

Mm-hmm. Indeed.

From Ilsan to Seoul, desperate only to chase his dream and share his love for the written cadence, he’d found six of the most precious, talented, hardworking, beautiful people he would be happy to maim and kill each godforsaken already-late-for-our-schedule morning instead. It had been a running joke amongst the staff that the group only survived their initial years in the industry through their unmatched chemistry, but once the youngest of them all – Jungkook – turned twenty-five? Everything clicked.

The team wasn’t just a team.

Namjoon still thinks about it a lot. The evolutionary metaphysical logistics of it all. How, upon turning twenty-five, the human “cosmologically matures,” and with the prefrontal cortex of the human brain fully developed, its high cognitive reflex for recognizing patterns in daily life is traded for identifying patterns in the amalgamation of the universal consciousness instead.

It’s some high-level, fucked-up, oddly wholesome matrix shit.

Along with its regulations, the national registry for soulmates had only been established earlier this year. And though Namjoon would have appreciated any primer on the shared experiences he’d soldiered through with the boys, it was nothing short of a miracle that they had all met, grown, and gotten this far together since the beginning. In place of scars they had anecdotes of each other, kept and cherished all the same. Mountains of memories, good times and bad…

A decade. Ten years since they had shared their first greetings at a rundown garage, bright-eyed with the single aspiration of producing heartfelt, healing music.

Ten whole years.

The matter at hand is what happens now. With their original ten-year contract fulfilled, all the shows and radio stations only seem capable of talking about (read: dissing on) Bangtan Sonyeondan. So-called “experts” and industry seniors hinging on their disbandment. Like the seven of them had made it to the top, and now was high-time to let the accolades go and freefall.

Namjoon wants to scream and curse and tell them all off and yet…

All seven of them are at a standstill. One wrong move could push all seven of them off the ledge, off the pedestal of their own making. Their contracts are hybridized now, solo and group opportunities taken into serious consideration. Clauses had been inserted for mixed agency projects, brand endorsements, business ventures, and, most importantly, well-earned rest.

The immense physical and emotional battery of being in an idol boyband, the relentless media scrutiny, the hardship of being isolated and away from home – none of them wanted another ten-year repeat. The legal discussion of it had been fruitful, but in the aftermath the grueling effort had sucked the – bear with him on this – soul out of them.

And it wasn’t just Namjoon. At the latest dinner everyone had admitted to feeling… off. Petty bickering had been frequent lately, uneasy afternoons as well as uncharacteristic detachment. Moodiness. Namjoon’s afraid to put a name on it, but it doesn’t make it any less true.

Could depression be shared through their soulmate bond? God, Namjoon hopes not. So many things could happen, and this time, no amount of planning makes it seem possible to control. It feels like something else. Something familiar but new and oddly foreboding.

Well. Whatever the hell it is, Namjoon doesn’t like it. He doesn’t like it one bit.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Instead of attending the blind date event for dinner, you find yourself standing at the porch of your parents’ diner instead.

Your father hurriedly shuffles to the doorway to usher you in, struggling to hide his excitement with the bogus scowl he plasters on his face.

“Young lady, why are you here?” he admonishes. Deciding to act preoccupied, he starts wiping down the tabletops, grumbling all the while, “Shouldn’t you be at that event in Hannam? Your mother said you wouldn’t have the time…”

You want to march over and hug your appa. You know what he’s really asking, why he’s glancing nervously past your shoulder. You’re here? Does that mean you’ve met the one who will replace me as your most important person? The government people nagged us about registering and they said in the future you might find yourself in this soulmate business too and you’re my little girl but… are you still?

You playfully nudge him by the shoulders with a bump of your own. “Naw, but don’t tell eomma I skipped it.”

Your father's lips twitch but then settle into a secretive smile. You both know that The Madame would drag you back by the scruff of your neck if she knew. And possibly send your father to the doghouse.

For some reason you can’t fathom, it frightens your mother to see you living the bachelorette life so well. Despite their being soulmates, her opinion is at complete odds with your father's, who basks in the joy of being the most important man in your life. And while you can kind of understand where your mother is coming from, chasing after boys… filling your heart with sweet nothings and butterflies… You’re not thirteen anymore. You're past that phase now. You know better than to put all of your romantic hopes and dreams into something that will inevitably let you down.

“Maybe that kind of thing isn’t for me, appa.” you admit. “You and eomma found each other, that’s good enough for me.”

Your father glances at you as he flips the store sign from open to closed, and says, solemnly, “Wildflower, you never know what the universe has planned.”

You take a deep breath, shoulders pinched. “But…”

“But what? But you don’t want love?”

“Appa…”

Your mother walks in through the backdoor. When she sees you next to your appa, her eyes shine with happiness.

They’re your eyes, too.

Your father hums. “Look at you. The best of both of us.”

Because It’s fine. You’re fine. You don’t need a soulmate. Your happiness couldn’t possibly be dictated by a cosmic phenomenon. Your life is beautiful, and simple, and enough. The things that you have, the love around you – they’re already more than what you deserve.

You pluck off a spare apron and help out with the rest of closing. Your father brings out his special blend of makgeolli and leaves you in-charge of hotpot prep for dinner. Drunk in just two bottles of soju, your parents compete about who had cooked the better seaweed soup, crooning absurd versions of the happy birthday song until you yield and promise to stay the night.

Chatting with them, laughing yourself to tears, you completely miss the double-decker bus that passes out front.

Unlike most city buses, this one has its exterior gorgeously laminated in purple, black, and gold. The vehicle is sleekly rendered with congratulatory greetings for the tenth anniversary of an all-male idol group, along with well-wishes of their fans upon the announcement of their individual pursuits as artists.

Your mother squints quizzically at the fan-made bus as it passes, an arm lifting to point it out to you. In her drunken haze though, she barely manages a garbled whine before her head bows and drops onto the table with a soft thunk.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

In the backseat of his custom-interior Palisade, Park Jimin groans, letting his face fall into his palms.

How is it even possible to get stood up at a speed-dating event? When he’d gotten there, everyone had already been paired up, and sure, work had held him up and made him late, but weren’t people supposed to turn up no matter what? Damn. Maybe the organizers were right. Maybe he is at the age and status nobody wants to be matched with anymore.

God, Taehyung is going to make so much fun of him for this.

The only silver lining is that this means Namjoon and Sejin can't chew him out for being "irresponsible" and "putting himself in danger." But come on, no one would believe that a member of BTS would have to resort to a speed-dating event. When he's bare-faced the worst that could happen would be for someone to say he kind of resembles Park Jimin. Probably.

Yes, he has six great soulmates he loves with all his heart. But he loves five of them like brothers. He does want something more, and it's gotten to the point where seeing an old man pushing his wife's wheelchair brought him to tears. Or as Jungkook would say – he wants a soulmate that makes his privates happy, not just his heart.

Is it that so much to ask for? He knows he’s already lucky. So lucky, far luckier than most of the world. He's blessed to have one soulmate, let alone six. The success of BTS wouldn't have been possible without everyone's hard work, but there are many groups that work just as hard and never see the light of day.

Maybe he just needs space. Maybe he should get his own apartment, spend some time outside of the house he shares with his six partners in crime. Somewhere he can just be Park Jimin, a boy looking for love, and not Jimin of BTS.

With a renewed sense of purpose, he grabs his phone and starts looking at listings.

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Masterlist | Next

Turning around an idea in my head recently :)

Lost Shepherd (Time Travel) AU

In which Truthless Recluse doesn’t experience rebirth and awakening upon shattering his soul jam, but the explosion of his and Shadow Milk Cookie’s combined power in a twisted space where all time coexists as one sends him back in time to his childhood.

When Pure Vanilla Cookie searches for his lost sheep, he finds a lost shepherd to take home as well.

Who was going to tell me vylad is maybe canonically homeless in mystreet. This man legit just said in a pixel painters episode that he slept in a park.