#THEY ARE SOULMATES IN EVERY UNIVERSE SHAPE AND FORM

[patolemus]

when people tell me sterek isn't real i'll just show them this

Erika Meitner, from “Staking a Claim”, Copia

[zeynyukine3011]

You cannot, in any way, tell me they are not soulmates.

Jondami is the definition of "I love you in every universe."

Like look at them, they are with each other in every shape and form.

[perfectlyoongi]

SOULMATE!NAMJOON who saw you in everything that was romantic. it felt like the gods were trying to prepare Namjoon to love you; in every romantic movie, in every romantic book, in everything that came in the form of hearts and devotion, Namjoon saw you, he saw a life for himself where only happiness and hope awaited him; in everything that was romantic, the gods painted you, preparing Namjoon for a future as bright as the stars in the universe. “i think i learned to love you on television. i think i discovered what love was in books. and i feel that when i meet you, everything i learned will be worth it.”

SOULMATE!NAMJOON who felt your soul on greyer days. like delicate hands holding his essence, your soul responded to Namjoon on more complicated days, letting your cosmic particles calm Namjoon's turbulent heart; without seeing you, without knowing you, Namjoon already felt loved by you, because the way his soul calmed with the tender touch of your essence was too intimate to be unknown. “you are the intense flame that burns inside me that warms my heart and makes my soul more comfortable and safer.”

SOULMATE!NAMJOON who saw the answers to all his problems the day he met you. you were a breath of fresh air, a sun on grey days, a breeze on hotter days, you were everything that was missing in Namjoon's life and it only took one look, one exchange of words for him to realize that it was you who moved his world. “you are like a book written by the gods. your entire essence and soul are the answers to all my problems. you and your love is all i need.”

SOULMATE!NAMJOON who loved you day after day. Namjoon's love grew like a flower, starting from a single speck of cosmic dust and expanding into intense forests of heavenly love; one day at a time, one promise at a time, one confession at a time — Namjoon took his time to love you, because he knew perfectly well that by tasting your love, your life would be eternal. “there’s no need to be in a rush to love you when we have the rest of our lives waiting for us.”

SOULMATE!NAMJOON who only believed in love because of you. the movies didn’t do justice to the intense fire that burned and consumed Namjoon from the moment he met you; the books didn't do justice to the ethereal happiness that bathed and cleansed Namjoon every time he was with you; no portrait of romance did justice to the true love and passion that guided and shaped Namjoon's life since the day he swore eternal love to you. “it’s incredible how your essence is enough to welcome me and make me feel loved.”

SOULMATE!NAMJOON who swore he had already read your love story in the stars. Namjoon had been watching the stars since he was born and he swore to you that in their ancestral glow, in their celestial constellations, your love story was drawn; perhaps already coming from past lives, and that's why they were so marked in the dark sky, your love story repeated itself night after night, reminding you and Namjoon that it was your destiny to be together. “i feel like eternities have passed since the first time i loved you. and i know that there will be even more eternities for me to love you.”

SOULMATE!NAMJOON who would love you beyond this life. there was no way to separate you, not when the gods themselves brought you together, not when the stars themselves told your story, not when your soul and Namjoon's soul were born from the same celestial dust; in this life and the next, you and Namjoon were destined to love each other, and Namjoon never tired of reminding you. “this life is too short for us to be able to express all our love for each other. but don’t worry, there will be more lives for us to love each other.”

[lw77]

Over and Over (MV x CS)

In this life or the next, Max is determined to keep meeting Carlos, over and over, to follow his tethered half as long as he'll have him.

Carlos thought back to something Max once said. “We’re soulmates. In our last life, you left me too soon, so I followed. That’s why you’re older now, and I’m younger.” Max had said it so plainly, as if it were absolute truth, sensing the hesitation Carlos never voiced. Every time Carlos felt the tight knot of anxiety form—realising it was Max’s arms he ran to, Max’s hands he clung to, and Max’s gaze that steadied him—those words unravelled the tension.

It was a softness for Max that made his father seethe, a trait he had tried to discipline out of Carlos his whole life. But when his soul was so tightly tethered to Max, pretending otherwise felt impossible.

He thinks back to that now. They're in Barcelona for testing, his home track—the place where Carlos first met Max and where he last sat in a Formula 1 car. Standing at the edge of the track, the sun high and bright, it beats down on Carlos’s back as he watches Max slip into the cockpit. The engines roar to life, and a familiar ache tightens in Carlos’s chest—a mix of pride and something deeper.

The last time he was here, he had stayed in the cockpit, helmet firmly on and head bowed. It was then that he realized he didn’t want to do it anymore. He had only ever stayed for the friends, then because his father wanted him to, and finally because it was the only place their fathers had no choice but to let them meet—bound by teams, contracts, and duties that served as a mask. He had never been the hunter his father wished him to be, never became the driver his father pushed him to be. Too soft. Always too soft to hold any shape his father pressed into him.

He wonders now if he ever truly accepted his dad pushing him into karts because some part of him knew it would lead him to Max. Was it all just fate’s twisted way of bringing them together? How cruel fate was, Carlos sneers, to let him break over and over as his father tried to shape him into someone he wasn’t meant to be. He gave years to the sport—to his father, only for them to chew him up. At least he managed to spit himself out before they could.

Back in the garage, Max prepares for the track, his eyes set with determination. The fluorescent lights cast a soft glow, a halo around him—the same Max who followed Carlos into F1 at seventeen because he always knew what they were.

As if feeling the weight of Carlos’s thoughts, Max’s gaze finds his, and when their eyes meet, he presses a kiss through his helmet to his index finger—I carry you with me.

—----

He’s leaning against the garage, waiting for Max to join him.

"Do you ever wonder if we really lived other lives?" The thought that they've been in each other's orbit far longer than they can imagine—that they've met as soulmates each time—goes unsaid as Carlos murmurs, his words barely audible above the cacophony. But then he remembers the weight of Max's gaze—how it anchors him and makes him feel like he belongs to something bigger than himself. He recalls how at peace he feels in Max's presence, how his heart slowed into a summer calm the first time they met, as if it recognized, before Carlos did, that he was whole. Carlos can't imagine a life without it; he can't envision his soul in any universe not being halved so Max can piece it together.

“Every day,” Max replies, his voice cutting through the noise as he emerges from the garage, wiping sweat from his brow. “I think about all the times we’ve found each other. It’s like we’re destined to collide, over and over.”

Carlos turns, a faint smile easing the tightness in his chest. “Maybe that’s why I can’t let go. No matter how hard I try, amor.” Leaning back against the cool garage, something stirs in his chest—something heavy and unspoken. He tilts his head, feigning confidence, but Max sees through it.

Grinning, Max steps closer, his eyes softening as he cups Carlos’s cheek in his hand, his touch both familiar and grounding. It’s as if he knows what Carlos is afraid to say. “You’re not supposed to let go, remember? Didn’t I tell you? I followed you for a reason. It’s always been you.” Max’s thumb brushes lightly over the dark circles beneath Carlos’s eyes, and Carlos lets his lashes flutter closed, feeling the tension melt under Max’s touch—the only anchor against the tide of anxiousness that threatens to wash over.

“Do you wish I never stopped? That it was still me in the garage next to you?” Carlos whispers, his voice cracking under the weight of his vulnerability.

Max’s gaze deepens, and for a moment, the noise of the track fades into the background. “Always,” he admits softly. “But it’s not just about you racing. I want you everywhere, you know? When you’re not here, when I don’t see you—” Max shakes his head, closing his eyes as if whatever he thought is something he doesn’t want to hold onto. “It feels like I imagined all of this. Like I��ll have to chase you into the next life just to see you again.”

Max’s confession hits Carlos like a tidal wave, chest splitting open with the weight of it. His heart surges toward Max—this boy, now a man—ready to carry both of them. He grasps Max’s wrists, his face cradled between Max’s warm hands, and holds his gaze. Max’s fingers trace gently over his features—his brows, cheekbones, and lips—brushing tenderly against the stubble Carlos has been growing. Max’s reverent gaze never wavers, as if he’s memorising every detail, every touch, as if this moment is his last chance to do so.

It churns something deep in Carlos's chest, unaware of how fragile it all feels to Max to finally have him—for them to be together without the threat of either of their fathers looming over them ever again. He remembers when they were still boys under their fathers' guardianship, bound by filial duty and controlled by paternal pride. How the pain of their forced distance clawed at him, reminding him of all the times they could only brush hands or clasp each other’s necks in feigned sportsmanship, desperate for just a moment of warmth—a fleeting chance to soothe the ache of a bond stretched too thin.

Suddenly, it’s like Carlos is the one going 300 km/h, not Max. Carlos who waits on Max’s side of the garage, hand covering his mouth, too scared to watch the TV, too strung out to focus on anything but the data. Heart racing until Max returns, helmet off, healthy, whole—alive. Max is on the other side, speeding around the track, desperate to find him, to know he’s still there, waiting—real.

He presses a kiss to the palms still cradling his face, pulling Max from whichever depth of thought he’d fallen into—I’m here. Max answers his kiss with a gentle press to his hair, and as one hand slips to his neck, he pulls Carlos into him, drawing him closer—You are.

Author's note: This is based on the idea I had and the little blurb I wrote for it yesterday. I may make this multi-chaptered sometime in the future but this is it for now, so enjoy!

[melancholymetropolis]

The Summoning

plot: Reader is freshly separated from her shitty ex and buys a new house in the middle of nowhere.

pairings: TraditionalVampire!Miguel O'Hara x Reader

genre(s): Soulmate AU; Forced Proximity; Hurt with Comfort

warnings: unedited. mentions of DV and abuse. LARGE AGE GAP (Miguel is almost 300 years old). creepy basement. reader is very reserved, but not really shy. miguel falls first and HARD. mind reading. declarations of love every five minutes. miguel is an absolute simp for this woman. PIV SEX. BLOOD DRINKING. pet names (darling, sweetheart, mi amor, etc.) praising. multiple positions. rounds and rounds.

a/n: there is over 4k words of smut in this. you're welcome.

w.c: 7.5k

Something had drawn me to the basement. The broker told me that it was completely bare and covered in cement. There was nothing to see or storage yet— since I just officially moved in last week. But my body kept pulling through the Victorian manor anyway. I descended the grand staircase, into the kitchen, and right to the back door. The basement had been directly adjacent to it. A tingling sensation coursed through me as I turned the doorknob and inched down the stairs. My nerves were buzzing and my head was going fuzzy. I could almost hear a voice crawling through my mind. It scoured the vast plane before meeting my subconscious. Despite the intrusive nature of the presence, I was not threatened by it. For some reason, my body did the exact opposite: I welcomed it. As I walked through the pitch-black basement, I allowed the foreign spirit to enter my mind.

Come to me, gentle creature.

In the far edge of the dark abyss, a candle flickered on. It was followed by another and another. One by one candles started to light throughout the room. Warm light started to gradually fill the space around me. They formed a perfect ring around me. My eyes drifted to the ground and widened at the sight. Words scribbled in yellow chalk were written underneath my feet. I captured words like “sanguis”, “potator”, “monstrum”, and “daemonium”. It was times like this that I wished I took Latin more seriously in High School. I would be able to beautifully translate the foreign tongue below me. I narrowed my eyes and continued to search the scribbles on the floor. There had to be something I recognized, some word in English that didn’t stray far from its Latin roots. 

Suddenly, another candle flickered to life; following the same pattern as earlier. But, instead of following a circle pattern, it created a path to the other side of the room. The low light exposed more Latin words written in chalk on the floor. The loopy handwriting was almost decorative with how it graced the floor. Some sentences seemed never-ending. They covered the floors entirely; my eyes didn’t know where to look. I scanned the scattered lettering frantically, trying to piece together anything that could tell me what the hell was going on. 

About thirty feet away from me, the thick path of candles split into two. It started to form another shape— it was a rectangle. Just outside the shape, my eyes picked up a word written in bright red. I didn’t need translation to understand what it meant, as its meaning was universal. 

VAMPYRUS

The entire basement was encased in the warm light of hundreds of candles. The entire room was covered in Latin scribbling and horrific drawings. There were images of a massive figure with great fangs. He was drawn with bright red eyes and a disgusting scowl. His nails had been massive and strong. There had been claw marks embedded into the cement walls. Dried spatters of blood dripped near them. I could feel my heart begin to pound in my chest as my breathing increased. Panic coursed through me as I took several shaky steps backward. Then it finally hit me. The rectangular shape was not a decorative choice. The candles had been surrounding something I almost didn’t recognize: a casket. 

Don’t be afraid, tender beauty. I am no harm to you.

Before I could even acknowledge the voice ringing in my mind, the lid of the casket started to slide open. Inch by inch it moved from the inside as subtle movement sounded from within the space. My mind was racing, desperately trying to piece together how I could get out of the situation. From the copious amounts of pop culture that I had consumed, I knew that vampires were vulnerable to silver of any kind and fire. Yet, the only silver thing I had to my name was a crucifix my grandmother gave me for my 15th birthday. There had been no signs of any wood near me, meaning I couldn’t make a stake even if I knew how. The candle’s fire was too weak to create any damage and to form a lasting flame. 

I was simply stuck. 

The casket’s lid fell to the ground with a loud thud. A massive body began to rise from within the space. A broad chest was covered in a pristine white dress shirt, which seemed to glow in the low light. That was the only thing I caught a glimpse of before the vampire’s body came racing toward me. I didn’t even have time to scream. His hands were on my body before I could blink. They gripped my waist tightly, before pulling me into a tight embrace. My head rested comfortably at the top of his abdomen, while my arms lay limp at my sides. The vampire had been at least a foot taller than me and I was no small girl. I was roughly 5ft10, definitely taller than the average woman in town. The creature’s size and gentleness had been a peculiar combination. It was something I wasn’t expecting. 

“So. . . you’re not gonna kill me?” I asked awkwardly.

“Of course not,” he stated, pulling away from the embrace a bit. His deep brown eyes glimmered in the low light. “I believe I told you I wouldn’t, mi amor.” 

His voice was smooth and thick. There was a hint of an accent there as well. On any other occasion, I would've found the man insanely attractive. He had strong features: deep-set brown eyes, a strong straight nose, and prominent cheekbones. The vampire’s thick black curls were combed back, highlighting his perfectly shaped eyebrows. His warm skin tone laid the pale-skinned vampire myth out to dry. The monster before looked graciously kissed by the sun as did I. In this low light, it seemed like we have the same complexion. That little fact gave me some kind of solace. 

I would much rather be in a ring of candles with a BIPOC vampire, than a grumpy white one.

I slipped out of the arms of the swooning vampire and created some space between our trembling bodies. "Can we. . . uh. . . talk?"

"Yes, I would love that," he replied with a firm nob. 

On the outside, his emotions seemed completely unreadable. He looked every bit like a big, scary vampire from the past. However, something within me told me otherwise. The familiar fuzzy feeling from before was coursing through me. Waves of curiosity, adoration and. . . relief washed over me. Everything within me told me that he was waiting for this very moment for a long time. That the vampire had waited a significant time to meet and embrace me. He wanted nothing more than to be in close proximity to me for an eternity.

"Could we maybe not have this conversation in a creepy, witchy basement?" I suggested, hesitantly.

"Anything for you."

Before I could utter another word, the massive vamp placed one arm underneath my knees and another against my shoulder blades. In one fell swoop, he lifted me off the ground and started walking to the stairs. 

"Wait! The candles—"

Just as they lit themselves up, they sizzled out. 

The vampire took careful steps out of the basement. He held me firmly against his body as he slowly climbed up the stairs and walked through the corridor. His eyes drifted along the walls, taking in the home's decor. He nodded at the forest-green walls and mused at the gold accents. Upon entering the living room, the vampire’s eyes flickered to the window. He took in the full moon in the sky, allowing the milky light to coat his skin. 

After about thirty seconds, the vampire remembered where he was and placed me on a nearby couch. He took a seat in the spot next to me and remained silent. Almost like he was waiting for further instruction.

I nervously turned away from his fiery gaze and cleared my throat. The tension between us had already been so intense and we just met. It was so hard to focus when something so attractive was close to me.

Breathe, little dove. There's no need to rush anything. We have an eternity together.

"That! How do you do that?" I blurted. "How can I hear your voice in my mind?"

"Because we are fated to be together," he replied simply. 

"You're gonna have to give me more than that, vamps," I chided, crossing my arms over my chest. "Let's start with your name. Who are you? Why were you in my basement?"

"My name is Miguel O'Hara," he started. "I was born in 1723 in Mexico. My mother was Mexican and my father was Irish— their love was the purest thing I had ever seen. It wasn’t forbidden, but interracial relationships weren't exactly common. My Mexican side didn't necessarily appreciate my mother dating someone that wasn't her heritage, so they pushed me out of the village when I was ten years old." He sighed and shook his head at the statement. Almost as if he was still in disbelief by it. "We lived in the woods for about five years peacefully, until fever struck. It had taken both of my parents in a matter of weeks. Leaving teenage me to fend for myself after that."

Although I wasn't expecting to give his entire life story, I wasn’t mad at it. It gave some humanity to the hulking man next to me. 

"I met a witch not too long after that. She invited me into her home, fed me, and gave me a change of clothes," Miguel continued. "She was the first kind person I met in a long time and I decided to stick beside her. We grew close and I told her everything. About my parent's relationship, how their families rejected me, and how utterly lonely I felt when they died. I told her how I, one day, wanted to share that same love with someone. How I wanted to devote my life to that person. How I wanted to live forever with them."

"You were cursed, weren't you?"

"At the time, it was meant to be a blessing. Something to give me hope. Something to make me want to continue living, because I was tired," he confessed.

"Oh, no. . . I'm sorry."

"It's fine."

But the look on his face told me that it still bothered him. 

We stood in silence for a few moments, just letting the information settle in the room. I couldn’t stop glancing at his saddened face every so often. There was something deep within me yearning to comfort him. I wanted to embrace his huge body and place his head against my chest. I'd say sweet nothings, while I played in his hair. I wanted him to hear the steady beat of my heart, in hopes that it would soothe him.

It would, gentle creature. Just one touch and all the pain would drift away from my body.

My eyes widened at the statement as a fate blush dusted my cheeks. "Woo. . . lord give me strength," I swallowed hard. "You know how to make a girl feel special."

"That's because you are," Miguel replied, gripping both my hands. "I waited over a century to be graced with your presence and I could already tell it was worth the wait. Everything about you is just so intoxicating, from those big brown eyes to that wondrous mind. You are everything I ever wanted and more."

My heartbeat started to increase once more, but it wasn’t out of fear. It was lust. To hear such tender words from a man like him had made my heart glow and my womanhood heat. He was praising me for simply existing and that was enough for him. He didn't expect me to be anyone else or to change. From what I could tell, he liked me just the way I was.

Unlike Richard, my soon-to-be ex-husband.

The ill thought made a sour look flutter onto my face. I shoved the faulty memories back into the box that they sprang out of and sighed. I wasn’t to think about the divorce, let alone talk about it.

"So, given the information you have provided, you are about 300 years old," I concluded. 

"That is correct."

"And it would be safe to assume that this used to be your house?"

"Yup."

"And you've been in the basement the entire time?"

"Mhm."

"And the real estate agent knew?"

"Not exactly," he countered. "The section of the basement we were in was sealed off for at least a century. I had started to lose faith in your arrival and decided to rest until I was graced with your presence. The witch had told me that I would instinctively know it was you. There would be some kind of force pushing us both together. And she was right. I mean why else would you buy a house in the middle of nowhere."

I turned away from him, desperately trying to limit the thoughts of my past from flaring right back up. I simply wasn't ready to share that part with him yet. 

A yawn, suddenly, ripped through me and took over my being. I looked down at my wristwatch and realized that it was well into two o'clock in the morning. 

"How about we call it a night?" Miguel suggested. "You seem exhausted and we could always continue this tomorrow."

"Alright," I said, slowly rising to my feet. "Well, good night then." 

"Good night, sweetheart."

Miguel O'Hara was a traditional vampire in every sense of the word. He was allergic to silver and all things holy. Meaning, that little crucifix my grandmother gave me had to stay in the jewelry box from that point forward. He was also deathly sensitive to sunlight and remained asleep for the majority of the day. He didn't necessarily prefer to sleep in the coffin, but he continued out of respect for me. 

Finally, he drank blood and from the dried splatters along the wall, lots of it. I didn’t know where he got it or who he got it from, but I refused to ask. Some things were better left unsaid. 

After a few more encounters with the friendly vampire, he revealed that he awoke from his deep slumber a month before our meeting. It was around the time I was touring the house for the first time. Miguel detailed how his heart grew with anticipation as my footsteps echoed throughout the home. He knew from the moment I stepped out of the car that I was the woman he was looking for, a missing piece to a very complicated puzzle. He wanted nothing more than to reach out to me, but since I primarily arrived at the estate during the daytime he couldn't. 

In pure vampiric fashion, Miguel decided to wait on the night of the full moon to make his grand appearance.  The mysticism of the event was supposed to soften the blow, at least that's what he assumed. Since the curse was performed on a full moon, our connection would be amplified during that time. Which was why he was able to read my thoughts so clearly and I read his emotions. 

The more I talked to Miguel, the more fairy tale-esque the situation felt. It was as though I was a princess, forced to stay in a drafty old castle with a mysterious prince. Someone that looked brutal and monstrous on the outside. Someone that has the capability of ripping someone's head off without breaking a sweat. Yet, he was the kindest man I had ever met. 

My eyes flickered over to one of the many gifts that Miguel has given me over the last few days. There had been about two dozen Double Delight roses sitting in a pristine crystal vase before me. Their white core seemed to glow in the moonlight, while red tips glittered like rubies. I had never seen something so pretty. I don’t know how he managed to order them, with him being a vampire and all, but the action had struck something in me. Miguel didn’t get me flowers out of obligation. He didn’t get them because it was an anniversary or a birthday. He had gotten them just because he knew they would bring me joy. 

I cried when I saw them. 

"You have to stop crying every time I give you something," Miguel said, placing a box on the kitchen counter. "You're going to make me want to kill your past lovers."

My eyes widened at the statement. "Why would you do that?"

"Because they didn't treat you right," he replied nonchalantly. "I mean, what is courting if not showering a woman with gifts?"

I could feel the tears immediately well in my eyes. "Miguel. . . " I murmured.

"You didn’t even open the gift and you're already crying," he tsked. The vampire pulled a tissue from the box and lifted it to my face. "May I?"

I nodded.

Miguel closed the gap between us. His massive body towered over my own, completely encasing me against the counter. He brought the tissue to the corner of my eye and began to dab. His tired brown eyes fazed into mine with an unreadable emotion. It was a cross between uncertainty and adoration. It was almost like he was pondering whether I had truly been his perfect match. If I would ever accept the union and show him who I was. He could sense that I was hiding something, but never pushed. Miguel was a patient man. He was fine waiting an eternity for me to trust him, as long as I stayed with him. 

The vampire lowered the tissue from my face but kept his body close to mine. His brown eyes stayed steady on my face. They digested my worrisome demeanor and presented a soft facial expression. I took my bottom lip between my teeth and nibbled nervously. My eyes kept stealing glances at his soft lips. They have been my main distraction for the past month and I was beginning to lose my self-control.

As a freshly separated woman, the temptation was as strong as ever. A big, strong, rich vampire wanted to take care of me for an eternity? How does one say no to that? I was struggling too.

Kiss me.

I shouted the two words out loud in my mind, in hopes that he'll hear them. His eyes widened from the statement and a slow smile crept onto his face. His muscular arms wrapped around my plump body and pulled me even closer to him. I could feel my ample bosoms squish against his hard abdomen, which sent a shiver down our spine. Miguel’s thoughts were just as dirty as mine and we were tempted to make them a reality. 

The vampire slowly leaned on closer, forcing our noses to touch. He parted his lips and gradually inched towards my mouth. It felt like time was moving in slow motion. The first brush of his lips made my heart stop. My knees felt weak and Miguel had to gather me in his arms. A pleasurable sensation skated across my nerves. Fireworks had exploded behind my closed eyes and everything seemed to still be around me. 

It was simply magical.

Miguel goes to pull away, but I grip his shirt to stop him. Slowly but surely I had found my strength and hooked my arms around his neck. I kissed him back. I welcomed every emotion that blossomed from our union. Adoration. Longing. Lust. I moaned against his lips and brought my body closer to his. A growl erupted behind his throat as he lifted me off the ground. My legs were wrapped around his hips and my arms were securely around his neck.

Are you sure this is what you want, mi amor?

His Latin accent was thicker than usual in my mind. The lust was quickly eating away at his polished demeanor. The carnal desires were slowly coming to the light and his inner beast was almost ready to pounce.

I couldn’t wait.

I pulled away from the drooling vampire and scanned his face. His pupils were dilated and his mouth was partially open. He didn't have to use his lungs or breathe if he didn't want to. Yet, Miguel was heaving. The kiss had seemed to bring life to him, forcing him to take rapid breaths. 

His thoughts were loud in my mind. 

Miguel wanted me. He wanted me in every way one could imagine. 

He wanted me on the floor. Bent over the couch. Against the wall. He wanted me in the shower, hands pressed against the glass. Hovering over the bathroom sink with my arms behind my back. He wanted me in the kitchen, across the island with my legs on his shoulders. He wanted me in the study, fucking me so hard the books fell off the shelves. He wanted me in my bed, my thighs smothering his face while my hips wiggled against his mouth. 

Miguel wanted to truly break the house— our house in. The vampire wanted to fuck me on every available flat surface possible; from the top of his coffin in the basement to the expensive rug in front of the fireplace. He wanted me in the best and the worst way. He wanted me in any way he could have me.

And, to my surprise, I was going to let him. 

I want you, Miguel. I want you so bad it hurts. 

His eyes fluttered closed and he tightened his grip on my body. Miguel pressed his forehead to mine and released a shaky breath. “That’s all I ever wanted to hear, Y/N.” 

His plump lips locked with mine moments later. The kiss was even more intense than its predecessor and it made spin. My hands found their way into his hair, tugging and pulling the curls as I wiggled my tongue in his mouth. The Latin man blindly started to take steps out of the kitchen. Like an expert, he managed to walk through the hallway without bumping into any furniture or walls. He slowly walked up the stairs, while dropping messy kisses down my jaw and to my neck. My eyes rolled back as he sucked the tender area. My whimpers bounced through the house without warning. The sheer sounds of my pleasure were starting to stir things within me. 

My ex always wanted me to be quiet when the moment came. He said my moans were “nauseating” and took him out of the mood. Richard preferred I be as silent as a mouse while he climbed on top of me a humped me like a rabid dog. The sex never lasted longer than ten minutes and there was rarely any foreplay. The act felt like a chore, rather than an activity we could enjoy together. 

It was one of the many things Richard ruined for me.

Miguel lowered my body onto a familiar surface and pulled me away from the embrace. I opened my eyes to see his big brown eyes staring down at me. A look of pure bliss had graced his face as a took me in. He looked at me as if I were the only woman in the entire world. Like I was his most prized possession. Miguel O’Hara looked at me as if I was his entire reason for existing and I could feel my heart swell with an emotion I almost forgot existed: love.

I was beginning to fall in love with a man I had barely known for a month. 

I was falling in love with a man that rested for a hundred years, waiting for me.

I had started to fall in love with a vampire. A monster to some, but an absolute sweetheart to me. 

The fanged bastard was starting to creep into my cold heart and repair everything I thought was broken forever. 

Miguel had made me realize that there wasn’t anything wrong with me, that I wasn’t broken. I just needed the right lover to make me whole.

My trembling hands reached for the buttons on my shirt. I fumbled with the little pieces of plastic, silently cursing myself for being so nervous. Without saying a word, Miguel’s gentle hands replaced my own. His nimble fingers undid the buttons in a matter of seconds. He slipped the cotton garment off my shoulders and tossed it aside. The longs digits gently caressed my soft center and shoulders. Miguel’s touches were light and respectful— something I wasn’t particularly craving at that moment. With shaky hands, I fumbled with the belt buckle of my pants. I undid the fastening of the dark blue jeans and started to push them down my waist. The vampire moved his hands lower, assisting me in the undressing activity. As he did that, I removed the hair clip from my head and allowed my box braids to fall to my back.

Miguel growled at the sight. He took in my pretty purple lingerie set and crawled on the bed. It was a vintage lacy number, with handmade lace and silk ribbons. I had bought it sometime after he had given me the twelfth gift; it was one he had to assemble. His bulging muscles and breathy grunts had practically pushed me to the lingerie website. My dirty, little mind couldn’t help but imagine him making those noises while I was underneath him. For that reason, I decided I needed to be ready. I needed to wear lingerie just in case I got lucky.

“You’re as beautiful as a painting, mi amor,” he purred. “I could stare at you forever.”

A warm sensation arose to my cheeks as my heart began to pound. “Miguel. . .”

“My darling. . .” he replied, slowly unbuttoning his shirt. He slipped the thin cotton fabric from his muscular arms and tossed it aside. “I have waited for this. . .” Miguel unbuckled his pants. “I have waited for you. . .” He slid the dark grey trousers down his muscle thighs and allowed them to pool at his ankles. “For over a century and that wasn’t nearly as hard as being in the same house with you for the past four weeks.” 

The final thing remaining on his body was a pair of boxer briefs, which I had bought him. The bulge, now unrestricted, was bigger than I could’ve ever imagined. It was bigger than I could have ever had, yet I wasn’t scared. If what he told me was true, then we were made for each other. Completely destined to be united. So, in other words, I should be able to take his monster dick with no problem.

Touch me. 

Within seconds, his massive body was hovering atop mine. His lips were dancing along my neck as his fingertips wiggled between my thighs. They pushed past my waistband and down my curly mound. The callous pads gently caressed the sensitive lower lips, which caused my body to shiver. They separated the vulva and found my happy-swollen pearl instantly. A gasp erupted from my throat as the man above me rubbed large circles against it. It had been so long since I had been touched so intimately by someone else— I had almost forgotten what the sensation felt. Moans spilled from my lips as my hands pulled against his hair. My body vibrated against his, begging Miguel to take it just a single step further. My slick channel felt so empty and practically unused. It craved to be stretched and probed. 

“You are so wet. . .” The vampire growled against my neck. “I’ve barely even touched you. . .”

“Please. . .” I mewled, rolling my body against his. “Stop the teasing. . . I can’t take it anymore.”

Miguel released a deep chuckle. “Whatever you say, mi amor.”

In the blink of an eye, my underwear was off and the vampire was beneath me. My thighs rested on either side of his handsome face and his large hands were on my hips. I looked down and immediately noticed the facial expression he chose to wear for that occasion. It was pure adoration. My curly mound and sensitive vulva were in his direct line of vision. The vampire had been staring at it as if it were the most marvelous thing he had ever seen in his 300+ years of living. With tender hands, he pushed my hovering hips down on his open, waiting maw. Electricity shot through my body as his tongue lapped against my folds.

“Oh fuck. . .”

My hips rolled against his eager face, while I used the headboard to stabilize myself. The velvet muscle caressed the sensitive area, sending shocks through my body. His firm grasp directed my hips closer to his face. The gentle pulling didn’t stop until my pelvis was comfortably resting on the hot mouth and prickly chin. The fear of smothering him had come and gone; Miguel O’Hara was a traditional vampire in every sense. He didn’t need to breathe. He could feast on my beloved womanhood for as long as he desired without coming up for air. Shivers ran through my spine from the idea. A feeling of triumph coursed through my veins, alongside the pleasure giving me goosebumps. I had truly hit the lover jackpot of the millennia. 

Eventually, his soft lips found the aching pearl underneath her curtains. The lips wrapped around the bud and trapped her in a cage. A powerful suction fired up in Miguel’s mouth and my eyes snapped open from the action. My hips started to have a mind of its own. I rolled them faster on his face, harder too. He alternated between sucking and lapping the oozing cunt— my god did it feel oh so good. Desire was coursing through my needy body. A hunger I didn’t recognize was forming in the pit of my stomach. There was a sort of power in the position Miguel had placed me in. My thighs were completely smothering his face and his mouth was full of my cunt. My hips were fucking his hot mouth like they only had five minutes left on Earth. My hands gripped the headboard so tightly I thought I might break it. I could feel my peak nearing, but the notion didn’t stop my movements. I fucked myself against his mouth for what felt like hours until my back suddenly arched and my toes curled.

“Fuck!” I cursed as my legs shook against his face. “I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna cum all over that pretty face!”

Slowly, all the feeling left my body except Miguel’s mouth on my pussy. My limbs numbed and my head drew blank. I could no longer hear the sounds of the sultry moans dripping from my lips, just my rapid heartbeat exploding in my chest. There was a warm sensation at the pit of my stomach, one I hardly recognized. My mouth fell open and my movements came to a screeching halt. My thighs squeezed shut, and my body hunched forward. One of my hands gripped his hair, while the other remained on the headboard. Short shouts spilled from my lips. Incoherent phrases followed soon after. There was not a cohesive thought in my mind at that moment. 

The orgasm felt long and raw. It unearthed something unholy within me. I wanted more of it. I wanted more of him. I needed Miguel inside of me right then and right now.

When my soul had returned to my body, I dragged my twitching lower half to his awaiting cock. It was still hard, throbbing, and glistening. I wrapped my hand around the shaft and ran the tip along my puffy pussy. I let it circle my clit a few times before aligning it with my entrance. 

“Y/N, wait— Shit!”

My slutty hips slowly sank onto the vampire’s cock, earning a violent twitch of the member inside of me. I firmly placed my hands on his chest, pushing my hips down even more. There was a subtle burn from how much he stretched my needy pussy, but I didn’t mind. I only made it about halfway down the shaft before Miguel started to rub my forgotten clit. Moans fell from my lips as I pushed down just a little bit more. Before I knew it, the entire member was buried in my snatch to our surprise. We looked down in shock at where our curly bits met in shock. 

We are made for each other, huh?

Miguel’s eyes sparkled at the statement and a wicked grin fell on his lips. 

Before I knew it, the vampire had placed me flat on my back with my legs hugging his waist. His deep brown eyes were looking into mine with such intention— I didn’t need to hear his voice in my mind to understand it. Miguel, then, hooked his arms underneath my shoulders and placed his forehead against mine. His hips rolled slowly against my womanhood. The painstakingly muted movements made my body sing with anticipation. It felt as though he was testing the waters. The vampire wanted to see just how used how much my heat accommodate his massive cock. He needed to make sure I wasn’t being hurt in any way and that the motions weren’t too rough for me. 

I brought my lips to his and gave him a seductive kiss.

Fuck me like you mean it.

The massive man groaned against my lips and started to litter lazy kisses against my neck. 

You’re going to be the death of me.

Before I could process what he meant, the vampire lifted his head from the area and readjusted his body. He placed his palms flat down on the mattress and raised his body from mine. Our chests were separated, but our legs were tangled together. It seemed like he preferred it that way. He took in my expression once more before increasing his thrusts. The process was gradual. The pressure and speed increased in small increments. Again, Miguel was testing my limits as to how much I could handle. He was doing everything in his power to make sure this was a comfortable experience instead of a painful one.

The moans didn’t start flying from my mouth until a few moments passed. My entire body was jiggling from the force applied to his thrusts. My eyes slipped shut and my back arched against his looming body. 

"Please," I whimpered. "Please, Miguel. Just a little harder."

I could feel a pleasurable flame ignited within me. I wanted nothing more than my body ablaze and the wind knocked from me. The hunger was still prevalent even after the hardest orgasm of my life. I wanted Miguel in any possible way I could have him. Above, below, and adjacent. On my back, my stomach, or my side. I wanted him to plow his massive member in me, just as desperately as he sucked into my snatch. 

With a growl, Miguel hoisted my body in the air and pulled me onto his lap. Instinctively, I hooked my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist. He sat back on his heels and held me tightly against his chest. Without warning, his hips rose from their slouched position and collided with my center. A gasp tickled my tongue and air escaped my lungs. The thrusts were deep and hard. They pushed through me with such intention and precision that it was supernatural. The smooth head of his member was nestled against a pleasure point I forgot I had. The snap of his hips had sent the head to kiss the underside of my cervix, which was sending shock waves through my core. His strength and speed were unmatched. The hip thrusts were so quick that it felt as if Miguel was vibrating against me. My entire body felt tingly and warm. Deep throaty moans shot out of me as my eyes fell closed. My walls fluttered against the devilish member and I could already feel my peak begin to rise.

“H-h-holy Sh-sh-shit,” I stammered, digger my nails into his shoulders. “M-M-Miguel. . .”

Even with my eyes closed, I could feel the smile slowly take over his face. 

 Take me, mi amor. Take all of me. My cock, my power, my adoration— it is all yours to have. To hold. To cherish.

The sweet words had sent my insides into a frenzy. My heart swelled from the dedication. It made the impending orgasm all that much sweeter.

I am yours. In this lifetime and the next. I will remain by your side as long as you breathe and even after that. 

His name was the only word I could formulate in my mind as he continued to pound into me. I chanted it over and over again in my mind since my tongue wasn’t cooperating properly. I thought about our life together and what it could look like. Our nights would be filled with cuddles and kisses. Declarations of love and tiny gifts to show appreciation towards each other. There would be no arguments or spats over silly things. I wouldn’t have to hide in my bedroom because he came home too drunk or pretend it didn’t happen the next morning. I could ask him to fix things and it would get done. I wouldn’t have to wonder if his love was true, since he had no problem with telling me every chance he got. From what I gathered from his mind, there was nothing I could do to make Miguel love me even less. Nothing I could do to provoke him to yell at me or attempt to hit him. Even if I drew a stake into his heart, Miguel wouldn’t even stop me. He told me, “Death by your hand is the only way I would want to go.”

What he had for me was more than just love and trust. It is more than simply being fated to one another. He had the drive to be a good partner, someone worth loving. It showed in everything he ever did. From the copious amounts of gifts to the gentle words in my mind as he fucked me into another dimension— Miguel O’Hara simply loved loving me and that made my heart ache.

The orgasm collided with my body and immediately pulled me out of my daze. My eyes rolled back and my head fell as well. Short, curt gasps puffed out of my mouth. Fireworks exploded throughout my mind as the orgasm progressed. His movements remained steady and consistent, making it even longer than intended. 

On my pleasurable way down, one of my hands crept up to Miguel’s head and took hold of his dark curls. I moved my head a little bit and exposed my neck. 

Drink.

Miguel stopped his rapid thrusting and looked down at me. “Are you sure, darling? Because you don’t have to—”

“I want to,” I interjected. “And I trust that you won’t drain me completely. So, drink.”

His brown eyes fluttered to my exposed neck and shaky breath left his lips. “Just let me know if I am hurting you, okay?”

“Mhm.”

Slowly, Miguel sunk his teeth into the soft flesh, earning a small gasp from me. There was a small pinch, but then it was followed by gentle suckling. My eyes fluttered closed as a glorious sensation arose within me. It was foreign, something I could only describe as delectable. The forbidden nature of the act was feeding my carnal desires in a way that nothing else had. In a way, Miguel had been getting his fill of me just as I got of him. The transaction was nowhere near normal or mundane. The supernatural nature of it was making my head spin and my desire spike once again. 

My hips rolled against his lap as he continued to drink from my neck. His member was still hard nestled between my sensitive walls, but it was twitching. It signaled to me that Miguel was just as turned on as I was by the act. I pulled our bodies back, resulting in me on my back again. His mouth slipped from my neck with a groan.  Miguel sat up from his slumped position and looked up at the ceiling. When he opened his eyes, they were pupil-less. The once-white sclera was shrouded in black with specks of white, from the moonlight. His mouth was painted a deep crimson and his fangs were longer than than I had ever seen them. He looked every bit like a scary, bloodthirsty vampire; yet I wasn’t afraid of him. Not for one second. I was even more turned on. 

“Filthy little minx.” His voice was deeper than before. It rumbled through me and straight to my core. “You entice me with such a tempting offer and then lay there all pretty and docile.” He licked his lips slowly, capturing every stray drop of blood at the corners of his mouth. “It’s almost like you want me to ruin your pretty, plump body with my vampiric tendencies.” 

He pulled my rear back onto his lap but left my upper back against the mattress. Miguel’s massive hands took hold of my hips before he snapped his against mine at a sickening pace. It wasn’t nearly as fast as before, but it was a little bit harder than earlier. My breasts bounced atop my chest as the thrusts pierced through me. The vampire was no longer kissing the sweet spot beneath my cervix; he was obliterating it. My fingers gripped the sheets beneath me and I held them tightly. 

“Oh Fuck!” I yelled, staring directly into his eyes. “Just like that! Don’t stop!”

The sweet lover that I had grown to adore had left and been replaced with something I can only describe as a monster. The nature of his movements could no longer be described as tender and loving. They were animalist and rugged. They were unholy and disgusting— yet I couldn’t get enough. Miguel had fucked me like I was the last woman on earth. There was no hate or malice in the action. It left like he needed me. Like I was the only person that could get him that turned on and ready to risk it all.

“And you would absolutely correct, mi amor,” he groaned, staring down at me. Never breaking his pace, not even for a moment. “No woman will ever have the power that you have over me. To me, you are the last woman on this Earth that will get this kind of care and devotion from me. I will spend an eternity trying to prove myself worthy of your adoration. You are my first and last love.”

“Oh yes!” I screamed, gripping the sheets harder. “Keep going! Please keep going.”

A snarl crept from his throat as his dangerous pace continued. Even in the heat of pleasure, I could feel his hips fluttering and his cock twitching. Miguel was starting to reach his limit.

Come with me.

The vampire threw his head back and shouted a word in spanish. His hips had done their best to keep their iron will and delectable pace, but they became sloppy and unorganized. Miguel’s chest was rising and falling as if he had just ran a marathon. His mouth was agape and his fangs were still long. His thighs were vibrating underneath my rear and his member twitched violently within me. Yet, like the gentleman he was, Miguel’s hand found my aching pearl and he started to rub it viciously. 

Our bodies rasped and shook against one another. Our breathing was practically in sync as we the throes of pleasure collided with our spirits.

I love you, Y/N.

The vampire had shouted the statement in my mind as his cock shot hot liquid into my snatch. Miguel whimpered and whined as he emptied the load in me. It was a beautiful site. To have a have a man enjoying sex and passion without limiting the experience was delightful. I could feel my heart begin to warm and my mind gain a glossy haze. A gentle pool in my belly started to overfill and my orgasm poured onto me. It was a gently as a river and just as powerful as the ones prior. It caused my entire body to relax into the mattress and my rear to slip from Miguel’s lap. I threw an arm over my face as my body trembled and twitched. 

Without missing a beat, Miguel moved from his position between my legs. He took a spot on the right side of my body and pulled me into his arms. He cradled me as the aftershocks of the orgasm died down. The vampire murmured sweetnothings into my ears and mind. Reassuring me that everything was okay and that I was safe. After a few moments, I lifted my head from his chest and found his eyes. They had went back to their normal state. My shaky hands brushed against his sharp jawline and strong nose bridge. I cupped his cheek, before pressing his lips to mine. 

I adore you. 

---------

a/n: I have seen the asks and the messages. I appreciate your support and I will try my best to get on them as soon as possible. I will be posting every Sunday once again.

next on the queue (hopefully): Peter B Parker x Reader x Miguel O'Hara

[writingwithfolklore]

Is It Believable?

                I get a form of this question a lot. “How do I write this thing while making it seem believable/legit/good/not cringey.” It’s a difficult question for me to answer because it is so, so specific to your story—moreso, your worldbuilding.

                You can make literally anything true and believable. Anything. Anything you can possibly think of could be a true and believable and good and a not cringey part of your story. Rats can fly, lakes flow above us and lightening strikes below us, the moon is shaped like your soulmate, etc. etc. It all depends on the rules you set for your world, and literally just comitting to it.

                The moment you stop to say, okay I know this is weird, but... You’ve lost us. This is your world, you get to decide what goes on in it, and the readers are either going to accept it and get into it, or put your book down. So don’t apologize for your ideas.

                First things first,

Create your world rule

This is your idea. Dogs can talk. People have marks on their skin that tells when they’re supposed to die. The world rotates in reverse so everything is like our world but backwards. Whatever it is.

                These ideas about your world should be introduced in the very beginning, when things are still unaffected by plot and your characters are just going about their everyday lives. In fact, the very beginning of your story’s entire job is to introduce readers to the ‘norms’ of the world. The rules. How things are supposed to work. So that when the inciting incident comes, we know exactly what broke.

2. Consider your rule’s implications

So dogs can talk—are they still pets? Do they have jobs or hold positions in politics? Do they go to school to learn? If I went to university in your world, might I be sitting next to a dog in reading glasses with a mug of coffee? If they go to school is it to earn higher wages? Do they own property and vehicles? Could my neighbour be a family of dogs? Are there products made specifically to fit their doggy paws so they can open cans or use other tools?

                One little thing could have endless impacts on your world. That is what worldbuilding is—exploring the implications of your world and how it all fits together.

                This is typically what people mean when they say something is unbelievable. A rule may seem very silly if it doesn’t really impact any other aspect of the world. However, as long as your rule and the impacts it has are well thought out, you can make anything believable.

3. Stop worrying about what readers will think.

This last one is more for the ‘how do I make this good/not cringe’ question. You will never please everyone. Not every reader will come across your work and think it’s good. The good news is, there will always be someone who does. We write for those people. The ones who like our ideas as they are, and will read our work the way we write it. Stop trying to please the people who are going to put down your book anyway.

                Just write it.

[last-words-ofashootingstar]

Hope you’re doing well especially with the personal matters that are going on in your life! Hope you feel better and I hope things calm down for you sooner rather than later! 🖤 happy to see you back though!

I’ve been thinking more and more about how Siren!San would be as a mate (if you don’t feel like writing this that’s totally fine! 🖤🖤🖤)

Being Siren!San's Mate

❥Siren Choi San x gn reader

➯a/n: thank you 🫶🫶 i hope my little ramblings of being siren sans mate are enjoyable !

▼・ᴥ・▼ (✯◡✯)genre: headcanons, fantasy

ಠ_ಠwarning/content: mentions of kidnapping, fantasy body transformations, fated soulmates, not proof read

⁂perm taglist: @stvrfir3 @tunaasan @marievllr-abg

Sannie canonically has blonde hair in Shells, and I don't know if I've mentioned his tail color but I think it would be a pale pink. That in mind, he's a shallow water siren as apposed to a deeper water siren, because he blends in better. (Unlike Hongjoong with red hair and fluctuating tail color, who blends in with the darker waters)

That most likely is the way he meets his mate, and not a wreck or attack. Just his mate swimming a few miles off shore and he catches a whiff and then they're gone *poof*

San, in any universe, shape, or form, is a family man so he's like an excited puppy: swims around in circles at the pool entrance of his den until his mate wakes up.

When his mate wakes up and is inevitably like YO WTF DAWG, he's calm and collected even though his heart is about to jump out of his chest. He won't crowd his mate *cough cough hongjoong* because he's deathly afraid of sending them into shock from his mark.

That being said, he's still incredibly clingy-

Angel in Shells is a lucky woman 🙏(besides the kidnapped and turned into a siren part) because let me tell you Siren!San is not letting a single hair on his mates body be hurt or even uncomfortable.

Too cold? Boom- fire. Too hot? Boom- cooling lotion. Sad? He'll sing a song! Angry? Well that's okay, you can hit his chest and cry until you tire yourself out.

That's par for the course for most sirens with their human mate I think, but San takes it seriously. He'd slap a fish if it looked at you the wrong way and yell at seaweed that spooked you on your first trip into the water. (ex. not wanting Angel to touch Joongs mate because he doesn't want her to get sick, and comforting her)

He's a lot more in tune with his emotions than you'd think, he knows it's 'okay' to be exited but he also knows that you're going through a huge shock and so he lets out his excitement by talking to you. Whether you listen or not, it really doesn't matter.

And it also doesn't matter what he's talking about- though he makes it a point to avoid talking about things that make your heart beat irregular. He sticks to tame things at first, like the tribe and how they work and his own family and his favorite spots to sunbathe just under the surface of the water (promising to take you to all of them).

He tells his mate what's to come, unlike Hongjoong who dropped his moms lore and then shut that shit down 😭

Once you start transforming, he's nearly suffocating with watching your process in pure awe.

The first time he sees his mates tail?? He's thanking the Huntress for every little moment that lead him here.

If it matches his like some mates do, whew boy prepare to be smooched to death. (Prepare to be smooched to death either way actually)

The first time you go hunting together, his cheeks are sore from all the smiling he's doing, he wants to teach you anything and everything there is- and he will in due time.

One little detail I think really fits Siren!San is that every night before bed, even when he slept on the floor in those first few weeks to give you the comfort of his nest, he'd blow on your wrist to see his signature appear- ecstatic every time knowing that you were fated for him.

The first night you do it back, both of your scales turning pink when your name mimics his, he nearly dies of pure bliss.

[whosmarinette]

One of my most precious personal interpretations of Gwen's character in Spiderverse is how she views interpersonal relationships. Specifically how she views friendships - and why she said Miles was the only friend she ever made after Peter died. And even when Miles cheekily asked her about Hobie, she brushed it off as being 'different'.

You see, friendship is a pretty arbitrary concept. One person will call someone they just met a friend if the vibe is right (and that person would be me), while another needs to have an incredibly deep personal connection. And this gets shaped by a lot of different factors.

Gwen did have people who at least wanted to be her friends aside from Peter - her bandmates, for example. But her and Peter shared a connection vowed through pretty much a life together. I mean, there's a whole montage where it shows them sharing meals for what seems like years and what seems like every major event.

At that point, whether Gwen realized it or not, Peter wasn't just a friend. He was family. The closest person in the world to her, someone who understood her because they shared so many formative experiences. He was her soulmate in the sense that their souls got shaped together like how rocks get worn down and shaped together by a current. And, well, also the whole multiverse stuff.

After Peter died, Gwen was convinced she'll never have a connection like that again - and decided to swear off connections as a whole. Which is understandable. The dent this loss made in her life was undeniable, especially considering it also strained her relationship with her father.

And then she met Miles. And the first thing he does when they meet? He makes her laugh. She just can't help it. She also can't help but stare at him in class afterwards, even for a little bit. And mind you, this is pre-spider bite. It wasn't her spider-sense that went off like it does in the presence of another spider-person. She was stranded in an alternate universe, where there's another spider-man, she probably is incredibly confused and uncomfortable, and probably already glitching by that point. And then this guy comes in, makes a stupid joke and she cant. help. but. laugh.

She quickly grows in fondness towards Miles, and after just a day of working together, she knows it's something special. She keeps a picture they took together to look at when she most needs it. She visits him despite Miguel's wishes. She looks him in the eyes, knowing, that 'in every other universe it doesn't end well' and she still leans on his shoulder.

Hobie and Pavitr are her friends. That's undeniable.

But Miles? He is her soulmate.

[somebodys-nightmare]

Those Chosen by the Planet: Are Cloud & Tifa Soulmates?

We know from the OG/Compilation that Cloud & Tifa share a deep emotional and spiritual bond. But after Rebirth, I am curious about the true nature of their connection and how soul-bound they really are - and why.

In order to organize this efficiently, I’ve broken this down into parts to best explain both background information as well as specific events that have led me to my conclusions/thoughts. The outline is as follows:

Part 1: The Lifestream (Background)

Part 2: What’s Happening with Cloud?

Part 3: The Lifestream Scene (Chapter 9)

Part 4: The Reunion Flower & Tifa’s Trial

Part 5: The Ending

Part 6: The Lifestream Scene (OG/Part 3)

Part 7: Those Chosen by The Planet: Soul-bound

Let's get started!

Part 1: The Lifestream (Background)

To set the context, I want to first explain my thoughts on the nature of the Lifestream, which is the primary worldbuilding and lore context of FFVII and in particular, how it is being explored in the FF7R trilogy.

In the FFVII Rebirth Ultimania, scenario writer Mr. Nojima shares that he studied Buddhism’s Yogacara & Jung’s theory of the ‘collective unconscious’. He states these concepts inform the “worldview” of the story and give hints about the mysteries and the ending of the trilogy.

I believe that he is referring specifically to the multiple “worlds” that we see in FF7R, which in turn are manifestations of the Lifestream. Let���s break these down first. I will try to explain these concepts as succinctly and relevantly to FFVII as possible.

Yogacara is a school of Buddhist philosophy that states our experiences of the world are shaped entirely by our mind. What we perceive as the external world is really a projection of our consciousness. Thus, everything we experience is a result of mental activities & states.

There are 8 levels of ‘consciousness’ in the Yogacara philosophy:

1-5: The 5 Senses Consciousness: Sight, hearing, smell, taste, and touch. These are the things we “experience” in reality through our body’s physical perceptions.

6: The Mind Consciousness: The mental process that integrates and interprets the above sensory information. This is how our mind translates the Sense consciousness of what we see, hear, feel, etc.

7: The Self Consciousness: The aspect of consciousness that involves the sense of self and ego. This is the level of consciousness that revolves around our identity and how it relates to everything else.

8: The Storehouse Consciousness: The deepest level of consciousness that stores all past experiences and ‘karmic seeds’, influencing current and future experiences. These also shape and store an individual's hopes and dreams.

I believe that the Yogacara philosophy forms the lore’s basis of the ‘individual’ consciousness of a person, or their soul, as it relates to the Lifestream. Every human being has their own individual “Lifestream” which becomes a part of the “collective” Lifestream at death.

In this process, a person’s consciousness diffuses into the collective consciousness of the Lifestream. Considering what is happening to Cloud in the game, it is important to understand how the Yogacara and its levels of consciousness influence this lore.

Additionally, it's important to understand that both Sephiroth & Aerith are able to maintain their individual consciousness & not “diffuse” into the Lifestream. This is why after death they are still both ‘whole’ & able to traverse the Lifestream “worlds”.

Which brings me to…

The Collective Unconscious: In psychology, Jung’s collective unconscious describes the part of the unconscious mind that contains shared memories and archetypes common to all humanity.

These universal symbols & experiences influence our thoughts, feelings, & behaviors, connecting us to the broader human experience. It explains why people from different cultures or time periods can share myths, symbols, & themes in their stories and dreams.

I believe these both set basis for the “collective consciousness” of the Lifestream & its relation to the indivdual, which contains the essence of the planet & the memories, emotions, & knowledge of all who lived on it. In Rebirth, we see two representations of the Lifestream:

1. The Physical Lifestream: below ground, represented by ethereal green liquid, energy wisps, and rocky landscapes of the planet’s core. This is where Tifa falls in Gongaga, where the WEAPONs & Whispers are fighting, and where Sephiroth’s true form is.

It is also where Tifa sees fixed memories represented by holographs. This also seems to be the form of Lifestream reality in which the OG Lifestream scene takes place, again seen by the physical structures and the manner in which Cloud and Tifa fell into it in Mideel.

I believe the manifestations of individual consciousness/soul, or an individual’s lifestream, are seen here. Note that there is a physical battle between “the planet & its enemies” seen here and that Sephiroth is seen fighting perhaps more strenuously & aggressively than anywhere else, where we typically do not see his true form.

2. The Metaphysical Lifestream: This seems to be the “plane” of existence that manifests in infinite branches & paths, represented by rainbow imagery we see throughout the game & manifests the “worlds” present in 'Zack’s Story', each marked by a different breed of Stamp.

I believe that this is the manifestation of the “collective” Lifestream, thus containing memories, emotions, knowledge, AND hopes and dreams of the collective spirits within it.

This is where Zack’s realities manifest, representing, it seems, unfulfilled desires or unfinished business, creating a purgatory of sorts or a confluence of memories and emotions. Sephiroth and Aerith seem to have great power in and over these manifestations in different ways, which I believe is also a source of the conflict involving Zack (a separate conversation).

Now that we understand how the Lifestream seems to be functioning, this brings me to…

Part 2: What’s happening with Cloud?

Cloud’s true self/spirit/psyche is currently shattered within the collective unconscious of the metaphysical Lifestream. This is the definition of mako-poisoning, especially in a severe case like Cloud’s.

We see this explained with Jessie’s dad, as well as with Cloud in Mideel in the OG. When a person comes into prolonged contact with mako, they are at risk for information overload from the knowledge of the collective of the Lifestream.

This can cause a person to lose their sense of self, similar to how a person’s consciousness/soul diffuses into the Lifestream upon death. In the case of a living person who cannot withstand the mako poisoning, however, they become “trapped” or “shattered” in the Lifestream.

At this stage, Cloud is still functioning because his contact with Tifa allows him to “wake up” & build a persona, aided by the Jenova cells reading her memories, by his own desires & delusions of grandeur, and his memories of Zack’s experience.

However, we see his true, broken consciousness throughout the collective unconscious of the metaphysical Lifestream (Zack’s side story).

Tifa’s role, as we know, is to help Cloud restore his sense of self after further mako poisoning following the events of the Northern Crater when his false persona is broken and he falls into the Lifestream.

Which brings me to…

Part 3: The Lifestream Scene (Chapter 9)

There’s a lot to say about Chapter 9 and Gongaga, but Tifa falling into the Lifestream is arguably the most important scene in the game as far as foreshadowing for the final installment of the trilogy.

This scene’s purpose is to solidify Tifa’s heroine role for the third game and to prepare her for the task she will undertake, while giving basis for it - a basis that was famously unexplained in the OG but has now been fleshed out.

Tifa falls into the reactor’s mako pool & is carried directly into the physical Lifestream by the WEAPON in the earth’s core. Here, she sees her fixed memories, represented directly in the rocky terrain of the planet, & surrounded by energy wisps and liquid of the Lifestream.

While locations are fixed, images of memories are represented and play out with green holograms, and voices by green pulsing energy wisps. She also sees the white Whispers of the planet & the black Whispers of Sephiroth/Jenova fighting, & Sephiroth’s corruption of the Lifestream via Jenova, aka “Black” or “Negative” Lifestream, represented by purple energy.

Note that Sephiroth, in his true form, physically attacks Tifa & the WEAPON carrying her here.

I can’t say for sure, but while these are definitely Tifa’s memories, they also seem to be Cloud’s. Before Tifa falls into the Lifestream, Cloud becomes vulnerable to Sephiroth’s mental attack because of the effects of the mako fumes in the reactor. This leads me to believe there is an opening for Cloud’s consciousness in the Lifestream to be connected to Tifa's, and that the Planet took the opportunity of Tifa being pushed into the mako (by Cloud) to connect them.

The memories Tifa sees are her own but are also Cloud’s, and given the context of Gongaga but also Cloud’s identity crisis and the entire internal conflict, this is significant and what we must focus on.

The perspectives of the memories are more Cloud-centric - in 2 out of 3 the camera is behind Cloud (bridge and Tifa’s house) and in the third, the memory focuses on what Tifa is saying to Cloud (water tower).

We also have to consider Tifa’s lack of awareness of events and her memory loss during these memories. The Planet seems to be showing her these scenes from Cloud’s perspective to inform and prepare her prior to her duty in disc 2/part 3.

There are also untouched memory locations you can spot in the scene: the gates of Nibelheim, Stargazer Heights, and Seventh Heaven. The Nibelheim gates we know are important for Cloud’s identity from the OG Lifestream scene.

Stargazer Heights is where Cloud tells Tifa he remembers the promise (curiously, that memory is placed close to the water tower memory.)

And while Cloud and Tifa have obviously a lot of interactions in Seventh Heaven, I think the critical moments are actually those seen in Ever Crisis after Tifa finds Cloud at the train station, as those memories directly influence Cloud’s identity.

The “planet and its enemies” - The WEAPONs, Whispers, and Sephiroth and Jenova - are physically fighting over these memories. Sephiroth tries to kill Tifa here. We see the purple corruption of Lifestream Black occurring in this scene.

We see Tifa on the brink of death and seeing Cloud’s spirit being led away from her and her voice silenced from him by Sephiroth.

It seems to me that following this event, Cloud and Tifa’s consciousness’ are already linked. Tifa also has been given preemptive strength and knowledge to save Cloud when the time comes in part three.

Which brings me to…

Part 4: The Reunion Flower

The Reunion Lily appears on the mailbox of Tifa’s house twice: In Cloud’s flawed flashback of the Nibelheim Incident in Kalm, and during Tifa’s Trial in the Temple of the Ancients.

It does not appear at her house during the fixed memory in the Chapter 9 Lifestream scene. I think this is because the flower wasn’t actually there, but is rather a “totem” or marker of Cloud’s psyche.

Cloud knows from events in Remake what the flower symbolizes. In his flashback, he falsely remembers that he and Tifa reunited with him being a SOLDIER, though we know this isn’t true because he hid himself from her.

The flower reappears during Tifa’s Trial in the ToTA. Her trial takes place during the promise scene & the Nibelheim Incident, the same period as Cloud’s flashback, and when she was hoping to reunite with him - but thinks that she did not (because Cloud hid himself).

In the OG, the appearance of young Cloud is representative of the Real Cloud and his psyche. My belief is that his appearance here is another indication that after Tifa falls into the Lifestream, Cloud and Tifa are mentally and spiritually connected.

Next...

Part 5: The Ending

While the ending may be confusing, several replays make it clear to me that Aerith is dead & that once again, the metaphysical Lifestream (indicated by rainbows) is in play in what we see.

Cloud, who is shattered in the collective unconscious of the metaphysical Lifestream, can see what is “manifested” in these worlds. Similarly, these worlds are influenced not only by memories, and knowledge, but by hopes, dreams, and desires.

Without going off on another tangent, I think Cloud is seeing the manifestation of his desire to save Aerith’s life in the metaphysical Lifestream & that she is temporarily aiding him in this delusion (remember, Aerith can maintain her sense of self within the LS after death).

After the murder, Barret & Tifa run up & we are given BOTH of their perspectives of this death scene. Barret very clearly only sees the real-world scene - Aerith dead, bleeding, etc.

However, when we get Tifa’s perspective, she sees glimpses of what Cloud sees - including his mental static - with interspersed scenes of the real-world death and the rainbow Lifestream where Aerith is not dead or bleeding but is "saved”.

Tifa is quite confused & horrified but seems to accept the actual scene - her death. She is not deluded or blocking things out, she knows what is real.

It’s confusing but it is purposefully clear to me that Tifa is seeing, or can see, what Cloud sees. It is not revealed how much Tifa knows is Cloud’s delusion but it is clear that she is deeply affected, not only by the murder of her friend but by something else.

And Tifa remains disturbingly distraught for the rest of the game. In fact, when she calls Aerith’s name in this scene it’s her last line in the game - she does not speak again. Once again, this is a clue to me that Cloud & Tifa are soul-bonded bc of the chapter 9 events.

In the ending CGI, Cloud tells the group not to look up. Barret does and says he doesn’t see anything. Tifa looks up but doesn’t comment, instead continues to look distressed. Does she also see the rift that Cloud sees? Her behavior is the most jarring of the entire party.

In the penultimate cinematics, we see the WEAPONS circling Tifa & Cloud’s memories again, trying to protect them from “the planet’s enemies”. We can see Tifa’s house, the bridge, and the gates of Nibelheim under them.

These sequences are plot arrows for what we should expect to see in Part 3. It should be lost on no one that the planet is actively fighting to protect Cloud & Tifa’s precious memories, especially after personally guiding Tifa through them.

Which brings me to...

Part 6: The Lifestream Scene (OG/Part 3)

All of the above has led me to conclude that Cloud & Tifa are now spiritually or “soul-bound” in some way, explicitly for the preparation of the Lifestream Scene of Part 3.

Tifa’s role is to help Cloud “restore his sense of self” by entering his individual Lifestream and navigating their fixed memories and the truth about his identity in the physical Lifestream, which occurs when they fall in Mideel.

Rebirth has not only prepared Tifa for this role, but has given us the navigation, insight, and background lore for how it will occur and what the experience might actually entail. This may include elements of both the physical and Metaphysical Lifestream mentioned above.

It has set the stage for an in-depth expansion of the original scene that does not solely focus on what happened when rebuilding Cloud’s psyche, but the why behind his choices and decisions that let them to this moment.

These scenes have also demonstrated why Cloud’s consciousness - his individual Lifestream consciousness that contains his “self-consciousness” and “storehouse consciousness”- is and will remain closed off to anyone other than Tifa.

This is where Cloud’s true desires are concealed and must be revealed to Tifa in the Lifestream scene to facilitate his restoration and their reunion and reconciliation.

Which brings me to…

Part 7: Those Chosen by The Planet- Soulmates?

Why is all of this happening? Cloud is the boy who is destined to save the planet, and Tifa is destined to save him. If the planet has memories of the future as well as the past, then it knows this.

Just like the planet knows that it needs the last Cetra in the Lifestream to help save it, it also knows that it needs Cloud to defeat Sephiroth. And I think the planet has known this for a long time.

Is it far-fetched to wonder if the planet is somewhat responsible for the genesis of Cloud and Tifa’s bond? That, in keeping with the theme of fate, it has influenced the circumstances that have both brought them together and pulled them apart throughout the Compilation?

Is it possible that the planet kept baby Cloud and Tifa alive during the bridge incident? Now, with the context of the Remake Trilogy, I don’t see how two small children survived that fall.

Are Cloud and Tifa chosen by the Planet?

Are they soul mates?

Maybe we’ll find out.

Thanks for reading!

[generalsdiary]

there is no rain without clouds

rain deity!Dr. Ratio x nonbeliever human!Aventurine

warnings: kissing (?)

word count: 6.5k

a/n: the intro will be the og post reframed- jump to keep reading to get to the added writing, one cannot escape Ratio being tsundere wherever you go (it’s literally canon), not beta read Firefly you better come home

description: an au, sorta soulmate vibe of a rain deity Ratio and human Aventurine falling in love (with an alternative ending), a smidge of angst; mostly fluff

I

What if Ratio is a type of deity with control over the rain/sky and Aventurine is a nonbeliever except for his immense luck given by the Mother Gaiathra Triclops.

And what if every time before it rains, he feels a drop on his shoulder or person much earlier than the rainfall actually begins- like a warning to seek shelter. And when he realizes that others don't notice the rain that early on, he feels somewhat special.

And on one day he is walking below a gray sky and a drop, tiny, smaller than any other, falls on his lips. And he smirks to himself and says to the sky, why do you kiss me in the form of rain?, he wipes it off with his thumb like there's an intimacy between him and the oncoming rain, a lingering feeling on his lips. A minute passes and another tiny drop falls to his nose, he assumes the rain will fall down any second now.

But in all actuality, the deity of rain, Veritas, is blushed and looking away, frozen, not making the rain fall because he is shocked and flustered from being called out on his very obvious bias.

And what if when he swims in a body of water, Aventurine feels light and free, comforted by the waves of the sea or the current of a river. But almost every time he is swimming the rain starts to fall. It is a gentle, soft one and he feels even more in tune with himself. Like he is being hugged, held. Veritas can't help but be obvious with his preferences in every universe.

Ratio would curse the deity of the sea, because why doesn't he hold those powers so he may feel Aventurine in his embrace, he'd beg the nymph of the river to take their place for a moment only to be denied. So he caresses him in the form of rain, from which Aventurine seeks cover. He curses the sage of the wind, because why can't he dance across the blond's skin, feeling the softness of his cheeks. Cursed to bring rain. Bold to make a drop fall on his lips, and now have his feelings revealed.

It won't rain for days, he is hiding, out of fear of being rejected, ignored... Vulnerable.

So when the rain does fall, weeks later, the great deity of rain is on his knees in the sky upon the sight of Aventurine sitting down on the ground in the downpour with a smile on his face.

II

“I am not.”

“I want to kiss you, hold you, hug you, have you- just-” he sighs, “and I know love and relationships can be much more than physical-“Aventurine exhales, looking up to the sky, his voice turning lower, “Why do you touch me like this?... Why does the water make me imagine your lips in their place- when I have never even seen you, why is it your hand which I wish to hold when I feel raindrops on mine... Why do you caress me,... Why do you touch me- it feels so personal every goddamn time and so… teasing.” When the skies bring no answer except the soft occasional raindrop, he turns and goes back inside.

About a week later the rain came again. Aventurine is standing behind a casino, catching a break from the heavy air inside. Veritas decides this is the right moment, the rainfall shifting to act as a waterfall and merely showcase an invisible silhouette like a ghostly figure, creating his shape.

“It is not easy to take a physical form.” There's no sound, Aventurine cannot hear his voice with his ears, but with his mind. His eyes widen upon seeing the elemental shape, he walks closer. This is the confirmation of everything- he isn't insane- well, that's still debatable, for some reason he doesn't feel shocked, surprised would be the better word. Aventurine reaches out with his hand, fingers moving through the rain which shapes a cheek. It is just water. Feels less real than the same drops that warn him. “I don't think you can call this a physical form.”

“Why me?”

“Indeed, why you?”

“I do not have to.” With a small wave of his hand, a larger raindrop falls on Aventurine's bottom lip, making him close his eyes. It isn't just the water, it gives him this feeling, this image of being kissed- of lips pressing into his own.

Aventurine ponders, a rain person, and his shape- it is a tall shape that much he can conclude.

“I wish to see you partake a physical form.”

“I can feel you, through the water- don't you wish to do it yourself?”

The elemental shape is quiet. “Things are more complicated than you know, Aventurine.”

Aventurine raises his eyebrows in small surprise from hearing his own name, “Introductions are due?”

“You know my name.”

“How could I possibly know your name, Veritas?” There it is. He stops, shocked, how do I know that name?

“Did you really think I'd make droplets fall to your lips without leaving my name there? It would've been rude.”

“This feels right- but I know it is wrong- I don't know anything about you.”

“Yes, you do, you just need to think- we have been communicating this whole time.” Within a blink of an eye he leaves, nothing left behind to mark his existence.

The facts list on in Aventurine's mind like pretty organized bullet points, Veritas is a rain deity, cold in nature, knowledgeable, etc.- and the list turns into... Memories? Or perhaps future memories; his mind fills with images, a fact of Veritas' dark blue hair showcased by Aventurine pulling his fingers through it, the high cheekbones shown with his lips on it... Aventurine feels dizzy, leaning back onto the wall of the building for support. What is this? It feels like he left a list, he wouldn't leave the second part as is. What is going on?

Veritas’ eyebrows furrow whilst observing the human. Why is he stumbling over a list- I didn't leave anything of such a mark on it. He didn't drink... Is he feeling ill? He moves past his worry when Aventurine goes inside.

III

One could ask the rain deity when it began, and how it started, this is what he would say.

„Darling… you ask a difficult question,“ Veritas says softly. His gaze shifts lower, and with soft eyes and a small smile he continues, „Allow me to quote a book…I cannot fix on the hour, or the spot, or the look or the words, which laid the foundation. It is too long ago. I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun.“

With a sharp inhale Aventurine wakes up from the dream. He cannot remember what the man looked like and his voice is even fading from his memory. What was this dream- it didn’t feel like a dream. It felt like a memory that hadn’t happened yet. The dizziness he knows from the first time is there again. Luckily he is still lying in bed. From all the given information, he concludes this isn’t the doing of the deity… Veritas. This is something else entirely, frightening and eerie.

Aventurine is now aware of the rain deity, and his strange preference… and whatever they have together. Opening his phone he checks the weather forecast- it will rain. When leaving the apartment building, he leaves his umbrella by the door on purpose.

Aventurine ponders his…memories, visions? under the warm water of the shower head. They feel amazing and real and genuine- and overwhelming, exposing. Why is he seeing them- feeling them… living them?

Going about his day and obligations to the IPC, Aventurine ultimately forgets about today’s forecast until he feels the soft raindrop on his hand. It feels like putting on noise-canceling headphones, everything quiets down and slows down for him. He can feel the lingering touch, “Why don’t you hold my hand yourself?” Aventurine decides to call Veritas out early on; he has grown used to the water hitting his shoulder or shoes, and the rain deity is getting bolder by the day.

Out of the gambler’s sight, Veritas has his hand over his mouth, dumbfounded and astounded at the younger man’s forwardness. The second raindrop meaning to hit Aventurine’s shoe misses and falls beside him- out of pure lack of focus from Veritas, once again frozen and… one would dare say blushed. Much like the previous time the rain falters and falls later than the deity originally planned. Veritas can only observe from the sky as Aventurine smirks and walks cheerfully along; the happy feeling he has clears the sky of its clouds.

When Aventurine decides to go home, he is met with gentle rain outside. He somewhat regrets leaving his umbrella at home. The knowledge of how this communication works puzzles him, for a moment it is there and for a moment it isn’t. He speaks aloud, “Must we dance around like giggling teenagers? I will warn you, I am not a patient man. especially when teased like this.” He regrets saying the last sentence as soon as it leaves his mouth, I am so fucking touch deprived, I should keep my mouth shut.

The same elemental shape, that even if anyone saw would brush it off as nothing, shows up and walks beside Aventurine. “No umbrella?”

This is his moment, he will go all out. It is all or nothing. “I wanted to feel you on my skin.”

Unfortunately for him, Veritas came prepared, “Why don’t you walk naked then?” he asked with a snicker in his soundless tone.

Aventurine tilts his head, “Good one… maybe I should.” He teases, turning his head to look at the shape beside him.

Fortunately for him, Veritas isn’t that well prepared. With a silent cough, he quickly tries to think of something. “You could get ill.”

Aventurine stops in his steps, “Then take a physical form. I may then relish in your warmth” he pretentiously declares.

“Is this really something you want?” Veritas softly asks, or at least it seems soft in Aventurine’s mind. Another memory fills his sight and overwhelms him; his hand on the man’s cheek, breaths mingling- standing together- he can almost make out his eye color, the one of dawn? He can feel the warmth radiating from Veritas’ skin, the frequent how does he know it is frequent? blush in the man’s cheeks warm under his fingertips… Light-headed again. Aventurine blinks a few times, stabilizing in the present again.

There it was again, he almost fainted. Is he alright? “Are you okay? You seem unwell.” Veritas mumbles.

“I’m fine, don’t stress about it” Another typical hand wave from the blond. “Yes, I- I’m sorry, I..” The dizzy feeling threw him off his game, “Can we continue this conversation another time, I have to get home.”

Of course, the rain deity leaves silently.

Veritas is a deity who loves rationalization, thereby he is confused as to why he is so drawn to the human, so defensive over him. What made him make an actual move after a couple of years of silent appreciation passed? It would’ve not been an actual move hadn’t Aventurine called him out on it. Veritas feels like he knows him, like he knew him before… well, before anything he knows at this moment. Like they knew each other elsewhere, spent time together. Why must there be history here and now; to justify his feelings? It is not a crime to love what you cannot explain. I am one with the water and it too flows through me as do the affections I feel.

IV

What can you expect from a gambler than to gamble? And this one uses his life as a chip.

Aventurine exits the worn-down building, made of brown moss-covered bricks, through the side door into an empty alley. A dead end one. He had fun, getting all the hard-earned and well-needed information from the players at the poker table and quite a bit of money.

One of the men followed him out, asking for another round, which Aventurine dismissed with a wave of his hand. They chat along, the man making different suggestions regarding other gambling businesses and potential scams.

“As intrigued as I might be, I prefer to work alone- and, you know, stick to what I know,” Aventurine says with a thousand credit smile.

“Yeah, yeah, understandable- but listen I got this gig- you will love it, it is made for you…” The man’s tone suggests hidden intentions, his body betraying him- the shaky hands, his eyes jumping all over the place… Maybe it is due to the strong smell of cigars and heavy alcohol that clouds Aventurine’s perception, or perhaps the few drinks he had (he isn’t actually drunk, not even tipsy), maybe he is tired or maybe he is just feeling so cocky at that moment that he doesn’t notice the imminent threat.

The rain knows, he- Veritas knows. He recognized the man’s intentions early on and tried to warn Aventurine, to no effect. The time ran out, the man gnarling his teeth and hitting Aventurine’s head, making him lose consciousness and fall limp on the concrete. A heavy downpour with sharp raindrops starts, and those sharp ones of course avoid the blond’s body. As if someone emptied a bucket of water, a curtain forms between Aventurine and the man. He appears surprised, but it doesn’t stop him from taking a step forward before a flash of lightning spooks him for a second. The lightning flash blinds him for another moment, Veritas tries his best to protect the young gambler, but it will not be enough and he knows it. Another flash of white and the curtain of heavy water normalizes, the man’s vision clearing up to see a tall man standing menacingly before him, practically towering above him. He has dark violet hair which is dripping with water, long dark indigo, and blue robes that flow to the ground, and a white shirt that is sticking to his torso. The arm which isn’t under the cover of the robes reveals a well-defined muscular shape. It is strange, the way the tall man appears to be soaked and completely dry at the same time. The water sliding off of his robes like off of a duck’s back, meanwhile, his shirt is stained and his hair drenched. There is power in his presence, the unnatural way he appeared already sent fear down the other man’s spine. Veritas raises his head, the sharp amber dawn-like eyes flashing a light blue when he in a deep voice with a sharp tone commands, “Leave.”

A heavy raindrop falls onto his shoulders, the prior blue sky turning a silvery shade of gray, almost purple. He knows this, what it means, even in his mind he disregards it, waving his hand around; seek shelter, yeah, yeah, it will rain. I’ll live. The conversation continues and a few more heavy raindrops fall onto his frame, unusual. The overblown self-confidence makes him ignore it, ignore the obvious warnings he doesn’t even see. It’s just rain, nothing more. It was never used for anything else except for a sign it would rain. Well except that one time…

Aventurine keeps talking, more raindrops fall- showing the rain is getting impatient, he even feels annoyed with the way it only keeps falling on him and not in the general area.

The man scours away in a blink of an eye. Veritas doesn’t turn back to look at Aventurine, he can hear him inhaling sharply and he disintegrates with the rain, leaving as quickly as he came.

When Aventurine comes to, there’s an ache in his head and his clothes are wet. He is disoriented, confused as to where the man left. His eyes drift to his jewelry and his personal belongings- all safe, all still here. He frowns. What happened? Slowly he stands on his feet, walking away to get a cab. While he stands in the heavy rain he ponders what went on. Was he really warned? It isn’t real, it can’t be real. Rain is just rain. And after all, he is a deity, why would he trouble himself over a mortal? Aventurine enters the vehicle and goes home.

With a yellow soft towel, he is patting his hair dry and looking out the window to the white sky. That man would not leave without robbing him or beating him up, he should’ve been more careful. A deity wouldn’t help. Why would they? They never did in the past.

Despite his thoughts, he doesn’t yell at the sky for explanations or behave like an angry toddler. For some reason, there is a certain amount of respect there. He can’t find it in him to converse in a rude way, even when he doesn’t believe in any of it. At the end of the day, it is just rain, and it isn’t anything special. Aventurine simply writes it off to his luck.

V

Veritas isn’t observing him at this moment. He lets the rain fall heavily down, not caring for it. How dare he be so careless with his life? He scoffs to himself, arms crossed and pacing around. Veritas feels angry and the masked emotion washes off of the rain deity to reveal the worried god underneath it. Thus, when Aventurine walks out on the balcony to grab a jacket left there before the weather changes, a raindrop falls on his cheek caressing it as if to say, don’t do that again.

And it is those simple, intimate moments where Aventurine feels like he is going crazy. How could he possibly explain all of it- or any of it? He felt water on his lips before so why did it that day feel like a kiss? A kiss he wants more of… why did this drop on his cheek feel comforting? No, he is losing it. I am not falling for rain- I cannot ‘fall in love’ with rain, what is going on? The rain stops and he finds himself drawing his fingers to the lingering drops on the outer side of his balcony door. If it isn’t real, why does this feel… like that? Cold droplets turning warm under his fingers, he sighs and leans his forehead on the glass door. Would the rain be able to hug? Maybe I’m just touch deprived… with that he goes back inside and ends his day.

“… if you’ll let me.” Veritas notices the way Aventurine wavers, losing balance as his eyes turn back into focus. “You worry me.” He whispers.

Aventurine is standing under a red umbrella and conversing with Veritas. Both gravitate to each other with slight confusion as to why it feels right- good. They are trying to have a normal conversation, and sort of get to know each other, yet the more they talk the more they realize that they already do know each other.

“I could show you so much, my favorite places; food, music…” Veritas’ voice fades off in Aventurine’s ears- another one of his visions…before the sound switches to normal inside this memory. “I will show you so much, my favorite places; food, music, art, culture- history of the world,” Veritas utters the sentence between kisses he places on Aventurine’s knuckles, looking up at him with a smile. Aventurine laughs, “And I will show you how to have fun- you will learn poker and so many fun, fun games and how to dance-“, Veritas jumps in, “I do know how to dance, and I am incredibly clever I will pick up poker easily for you, my love.” In a cloud of smoke, he loses focus and falls back into reality.

The hand wave every time, “It is jamais vu* from what I managed to find out.”

“From my knowledge, that doesn’t cause dizziness.”

“It is often related to migraines”

“You are not experiencing migraines.”

“How would you know my lack of pain?”

A sigh, “The same way you know things about me.” Veritas prettily forms the sentence to avoid the question he has no answer to. He simply knows, how could he not know?

Aventurine tries not to think about the intimate scenes the memories show him, he doesn’t want to spiral down the rabbit hole. And when he does try to recall how Veritas looked in them, it melts away from his mind like chocolate in the summer sun. The memory stays, with the visual and audible facts fading if he focuses on them too hard. He isn’t allowed to see them yet, is what he believes. The touch, the warmth- that doesn’t go away, it stays, lingering like the raindrops on his fingertips. It feels exactly like Veritas.

An hour later, Aventurine is back at his home, he takes off his jacket- staying in a white button-up shirt. He walks over to the glass doors to the balcony, sliding them open and his fingers drift to the unmoving raindrops on the glass, it takes his full attention… giving him comfort and he closes his eyes, turning the tables as to who is touching who through the raindrops.

Weeks pass with them having conversations and confused thoughts, shifting between yearning, flirting, and curiosity. The air around them stops for a millisecond when Aventurine makes a suggestion, “I want to show you my apartment.” He expressed with a smile, with no ulterior motive, but to show a more private part of himself which is his home. The elemental form, expressionless as ever is silent.

“I am certain you’ve noticed we only converse while it is raining and I take this shape, how would I go inside as this?” Veritas makes an excuse.

“Come in through the balcony- you can stay there if you must drip like that- but there is a way, don’t play dumb with me, oh great rain deity~” He flails his arms about and rolls his eyes with a big smile while he teases Veritas.

The shape disappears due to Veritas losing his concentration and falling to his knees once more from the teasing use of his title.

In his waterfall shape, Veritas appears in front of Aventurine- the gambler didn’t even have to call him, he felt his touch. What a strange feeling…

He stands still as ever, no emotion readable off of his figure, no voice able to be heard. He felt the… teasing way the phantom touch is, and felt a tad impatient- he would have great use of a few breathing exercises at that moment. To reframe his thoughts and ground- instead, he is on the balcony, in a distant form, as he said he would be.

“Why?” Aventurine asks.

“Ah, Veritas. You came! Allow me to show you my home~” Aventurine cheerfully exclaims and steps backward into the apartment, “Unless you plan on bringing the water inside- in which case you can observe through the glass…” Aventurine’s voice fades off exactly when the elemental shape shifts and Veritas takes his actual physical form, taking a step forward into the building, towards Aventurine. His eyes are the colors of dawn… The tall, attractive man steps closer until Aventurine’s back meets the wall behind him. Memories become clearer- the indigo hair, the dark blue robes, the deep baritone voice that soothes his ears- “Is this the form you wished so hard to see?” Veritas tilts his head and raises his eyebrows.

Aventurine is speechless upon the sight of a literal god in front of him. He did expect him to look good, he is attracted to him, but oh dear gods, this is… wow. Why is he standing so close? Aventurine can feel the change in the room’s temperature, turning slightly warmer.

“…yes…uhm, it is good you… changed and now you can get a tour of the place.” It took Aventurine a few moments before he softly answered. His eyes shift around, surprised by the moment, despite it all, his thoughts calmed down since Veritas is physically here. Aventurine feels at peace, safe, and content. Until his eyes fall to Veritas’ lips and everything is out of the window, his head filling with thoughts of how it would feel to actually kiss him. Their breaths are mingling, why is he standing so close? he barely notices his hand moving the Veritas’ side to pull him even closer. The air feels heavy, filled with electricity and the scent of another man which is entirely new, but then again it is a scent he knows all too well from his memories- focus allowing only now to remember it clearly.

To Aventurine’s surprise, he isn’t the only one feeling like this. He watches Veritas summon a raindrop between his fingers and drop it onto his bottom lip. Veritas eyes trained on the way it falls, then closing them relishing in the feeling. It also makes Aventurine close his eyes, and he holds on to not just crash his lips against his.

“I… don’t know,” Veritas admits.

VI

With the droplet still on his bottom lip, Aventurine raises his chin and presses his lips onto Veritas’. The heavy air, frozen, flows again when they connect. Lips opening to get closer, hands hesitant and shaking to bring the other closer, fearing to not get overwhelmed, minds connecting to ask the same question, why does it feel so good… why does it feel right? Aventurine’s hands travel up, one rests on Veritas’ chest and the other one cups his cheek, it is as soft as he recalls. Veritas embraces Aventurine, his arms wrapping around the shorter man’s torso and pulling him closer. Clouds fill the sky and no rain falls. The moment is theirs and it is hidden. It felt like the built-up pressure in the atmosphere right before a storm, was released. The tension loosens up when they finally feel each other’s touch and not through water.

When the kiss ends Aventurine’s head fills with questions such as, how dare he gatekeep this form- why?

Veritas, still close, quietly points out an observation, “Your eyes glow in the dim light.”

“So do yours.” Silence. They spend the next few minutes staring into each other’s eyes, Veritas is the one to break the silence and ask for a tour of the place that was promised.

“You will outlive me. I will die. I am…” he sighs, “just a human. I have, what, maybe 50 years left at best?”

They fit together like puzzle pieces, perfect in every way. Veritas takes his physical form much more often and spends most of his time beside Aventurine, going on walks, dinners, and spending simple time together. Veritas still sends the raindrops to his lips, embracing him through the rain. Their physical affection turns simpler and is shown through occasional lingering fingers and short-lived hand-holding. They find solace in each other’s company much more than anything else. It is another one of the simple days, both sitting on the couch, Aventurine is fidgeting with Veritas’ hands when he asks, “Are you immortal?”

“Hm… what a strange question. I am not immortal in the true sense of the word, I am meant to live forever- well as long as there is rain.” He explains in a gentle tone, causally watching the man caress his fingers.

“I will be by your side through every day then- and after, I will find a way, I will not leave you and you will not leave me- do not worry, dear gambler.”

Beat. Aventurine ever so slightly slumps, leaning back and looking up. “Are you sure?” he presses on in a shaky voice which he desperately tries to hide.

“I promise. I will do my best to make it happen.” Somewhat reassured by his words, Aventurine moves to rest his head on Veritas’ shoulder.

It can’t be all sunshine and rainbows- or in this case, clouds and rain. There’s turmoil happening inside the rain deity. Doubts fill him, guilt poisons his head, and self-consciousness traps him in a spiral of negative thoughts regarding his feelings and actions. He knows all emotions flow through him, water takes on any shape, and therefore at some point in time, it will take the shape of a whirlpool. The rain deity feels chained by his thoughts, trying to solve them- work them out, only for the bounds to get tighter. The days turn into weeks, the rain no longer warning Aventurine- he cannot focus, and the sky turns a shade of dark purple, calling thunder and lightning at times, it is loud, terrifying. Aventurine can’t help but worry, is someone punishing him? Every loud snap and whip sound burns his ears, Aventurine mumbles his name sometimes in distress- to no avail.

Months later, he stands on his balcony. Uninvited, he waits for Aventurine to return home. When he does, most part of the conversation is silent, Aventurine opens the door- sees him, and stares. Thoughts are exchanged without a sound, of Veritas’ pain and regrets, and of Aventurine’s anxiety. Am I even human anymore, why can I do this? He ignores that thought.

“Talk to me next time- let me help-“

“This isn’t something that would be safe to have you around for.”

“I agree, since when do you have control over the thunder and lightning?”

“I do not… When a deity, a sage, a nymph, or whichever being; goes through strong emotional turmoils- their power expands because they lose control over it. I apologize for making you worry.”

“Don’t do that again.”

“I cannot promise it won’t happen again.”

“I’ll make you promise” With furrowed eyebrows and a firm step he walks over, looking up at the rain deity with a frown. He shall put it in words even Veritas will understand, “Lack of your well-being leads to me not feeling good. If you care about me as much as I do about you, you will do better. I expect of you to do better- no better yet- I demand it.” Aventurine stands tall, chin raised and proud, putting a god in his place- equal to him, right by his side. His eyes focused on the man in front of him.

Veritas is weak, too weak to say no- to deny anything Aventurine may wish… He is the air I breathe, how could I ever reject him? His eyes scan his face, not a single tread of fear in the shorter man. Veritas nods, “I will have you near me, next time such a thing occurs. I promise.”

Aventurine’s shoulders relax, he nods to himself and steps back in, “Come inside, you’re cooking tonight.” Veritas politely follows with a shy smile on his face, his eyes looking down at where Aventurine’s fingers are pulling him and leading him inside.

VII

A century passes. Aventurine passed away years ago, and not a day nor night has gone by without Veritas building up his power to summon him here. Until he succeeded. A bright light blinds him, making him turn his head and look elsewhere in the plush, warm-toned clouds he was sitting in. Turning his head back he is met with a smiley Aventurine who immediately jumps and embraces Veritas- making him lie on his back.

“You did it- you actually did it! Took you long enough!” Through warm laughter he greets.

“It was no easy feat. It, indeed, took too long.” Veritas’ arms tighten around Aventurine’s frame, inhaling the scent of the perfume he missed so much, “I missed you- it feels so good to actually feel you- the human realm cannot convey the feeling of touch the way it does here.”

“It does feel different.” Aventurine props his elbow to look at the rain deity better.

“Now, it is a tad more complicated than I… originally explained. You are a… cloud deity now.”

Aventurine tilts his head and narrows his eyes, “A what now?” He laughs softly, “Aren’t you in control of that?”

Veritas slowly explains, “No, I am in control of the rain- and yes while clouds are water- they are not rain. By controlling the rain, I pull also the clouds indeed, but for example- I could never pull a cloud over a desert area where it won’t rain. Whereas, you can. Clouds are timeless and everywhere- you are free to manipulate them- all across the space and time.” He ends it with a smile, “There is no rain without clouds, my dear.”

The pieces all fall into space, their connection, his memories of the future- they have yet to happen right here in these clouds- he saw them happen, the way he felt less and less natural and more supernatural, the way they communicate- he knew Veritas wasn’t controlling that. It is also obvious that the rain deity did not plan for this, it is simply the way it all worked out. He provided them a… forever. The visions made so much sense now- clouds are timeless. It flows for him, time flows- he smiles and kisses Veritas’ cheek. “I knew this would- I- thank you, I am overjoyed to be here with you.”

All the memories become, soon enough, memories. Now, they spend their time almost always in some time of physical contact- hands never separating. They float around and smile at nature, Aventurine very excitedly leads Veritas through old games he had won, teaching him poker and blackjack, they laugh and enjoy this powerful life to the fullest.

On one of those countless days, Veritas takes him to the waterfall and the river, where he had previously begged the nymph to borrow their powers to hold him.

“Ah, Lord of the rain… and Lord of the clouds, what can I do for you today?” The nymph of the river smiles, their hair, the color of a cherry tree, flows with the wind, sending a scent of strawberries. The easygoing smile relaxes both men.

“We were passing by- how did you know about Aventurine?” Veritas is surprised, they do all know each other in the end- maybe it has something to do with his partner’s time-related affinities.

“It is written, the Lord of the rain will bring forth the Lord of the clouds. And no matter when he is brought forth, he shall be gifted the control of time so he has always been with us.” They say without a tremor in their voice like it is a well-known fact.

“I have not read this in the writing, Ro.” Veritas crosses his arms, mentally recalling every line in the very long text.

“You cannot know the lines which refer to you. Just as I didn’t know the ones that were related to me and my Lady of the Flower lotus.” Ro nods, the smile unmoving from their face, they seem at peace, content… happy. The beings of nature live pleasurable lives, and Aventurine feels fond of it.

“Wait- you have told me the previous time I was here that you loved a human and no one as well had borrowed you their powers to come closer- is this the same Lady? You didn’t tell me of this.” Veritas continues, Aventurine floats off to the familiar beach and jumps in the water, partaking in his old physical form. “I mean, I was aware of what was written… The nymph of the river will love the flower lotus.”

“Veritas, we have been over this, do not fret- enjoy the Lord of the clouds- and I shall go have tea with my Lady, it is late afternoon and I refuse to keep them waiting. I’d be more than happy to have you two join us, but I am afraid we won’t have enough biscuits for today- how does tomorrow sound?”

Veritas nods. “Enjoy your time, Ro. Tomorrow is fine.” Veritas leaps out of the clouds, taking his physical form as well and diving into the water. Aventurine is quick to swim over and put his arms on Veritas’ shoulders, “The water feels amazing, and you look good like this- we should go swimming more often~”

“Don’t belittle me, you just like the sight of me shirtless,” Veritas smirks, and Aventurine chuckles. Veritas moves his arms to his lower back.

“Mhm~ Yes I do, doctor” Aventurine moves closer to kiss him, there are drops of water on their lips and they mix along with the kiss, the sun shines brightly illuminating the water's surface and the wind blows over their shoulders. What a perfect world they got so lucky to exist in- together and in love.

VIII (alternative ending)

Aventurine’s eyes suddenly open, with a hollow chest and faster breathing than normal. He turns to his side to see Veritas already awake, his hand on Aventurine’s cheek wiping away… tears?

“Bad dream, darling?” He whispers.

“No- I… a lovely dream. I don’t know why I am crying…” He moves closer to Veritas, seeking his warmth, “You were a rain deity and I suppose the tears might be happy ones?... It feels like a beautiful world was ripped away from me… It was so real.”

“A rain deity? You truly have creative dreams…” Ratio pulls his head into his chest, hand in the blond locks soothing his partner. “You have me here, I am not going anywhere.” A soft kiss is placed on the crown of his head.

“I love you… thank you for being here. It was a nice dream, maybe somewhere utopian where it is all perfect and where we could be happy… it was a bit unrealistic but comforting. Although I could feel you were missing something, you also were human before you became a deity so perhaps you didn’t recall what drove you. Your motivation for knowledge and spreading it- I missed it in the dream.” Aventurine draws small circles on Veritas’ chest. The digital clock shows 3 am, they should go back to sleep.

“I love you too,” He whispers.

“When did you… when did you realize it? That you… ‘loved’?” Aventurine inquires, a sleepy mind asks strange questions.

“What a strenuous question…” Veritas answers softly, his eyes travel lower to meet the colorful ones of his partner, his own softening when they meet. With a small smile, he goes on, “To quote a wonderful writer; I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun.”

Tiredly, Ratio nods and freezes once the words register in his head, “Mhm, yes, wait what- excuse me? That I will do what now?” The surprise is evident in his voice.

Aventurine’s eyes widen, dreams spill over into reality and every scene flashes before his eyes, he feels overwhelmed, his head running around with so many thoughts…

“I hope you will even in this reality kiss me in the form of rain.”

“Hush, go to sleep- I have an interview in the morning.” With a quiet grumble he listens to Aventurine and goes back to sleep.

a/n: s/o to J. Austen for being an amazing author; the quote is from the book called Pride and Prejudice, *jamais vu - a French loanword meaning "never seen", is the phenomenon of experiencing a situation that one recognizes in some fashion, but that nonetheless seems novel and unfamiliar

tags under:

@starfall-reef

[cosmicbrowniebox]

Can you write some fluff with the haikyuu boys (mainly Atsumu, Kuroo, Oikawa and Akaashi) laying on readers chest?? Just some good ol fluff🌚

yes omg ^.^ id lobe to idk if I was supposed to pick but on a Tsumu kick rn but ill def do a pt2 with the other three gonna do him based off of dif songs I can see him putting in playlists for his partner

ft: atsumu miya x mangaka!gn reader

warnings: nothing just pure fluff

a/n. this was a bit short cus i was procrastinating a bit and flipping back and fourth between this and my crochet project but I hope u like it annon^.^

wc.683

Cuddling with a six-foot setter wasn't easy, but cuddling with Atsumu Miya felt like being draped with a weighted blanket, his bleach-blonde hair tucked under my chin as we scrolled through TikTok, watching fan edits of us. "They've been picking good songs for the edits they make of you recently, Tsum," I mumbled, looking down at the half-asleep man resting on my chest. "Mhm, you're probably the one giving them all those ideas from your Spotify," he muttered back as I ran my hand through his hair. "You're the one who kept talking about it when the reporter asked you about your workout playlist," I quipped, placing a small kiss atop his head. "Now all people like to say about us is that I made you listen to all the sweet stuff," I said sarcastically as I played with the hair resting at the back of his neck.

"Because you're the one making me all sweet just for your enjoyment," he responded, his sleepy voice making me want to laugh. He sounded like he was drowning in the thought of wanting to sleep but tried his hardest to stay awake so we could have some form of time together since he had been busy all day with another game. If he had asked me who they had played, I could honestly not tell, with the fact that he had looked like a focused puppy on his way to get a win in tug of war against another dog.

"Yeah, mhm, not like you didn't tell me to add The Smiths on there, saying that it reminded you of us," I huffed with a small laugh. As we stayed quiet for a moment, it felt like nothing was moving around us, like it was our second year again and he was sneaking into my bedroom window and me holding him after an especially long day. Atsumu Miya was like a big golden retriever when it was just us, nothing to do about volleyball or a chapter I had to complete for my editor. It was just the calm silence of our bedroom with the white noise of the Tokyo streets. I sometimes wondered, would we be like this in every universe, laying here, his head tucked under my chin as we watched videos of him on my phone? It felt silly in a way, thinking that maybe we would, and that we'd always find our way to each other, even if times got hard. I'd always find him.

"Tsum?" I said, my voice soft as I spoke. "Hm," he mumbled, tracing shapes absentmindedly against my collarbone. "Do you think we would be soulmates in every universe like how we are now?" I asked, not even sure if he'd answer or not, but I felt his head lift ever so slightly to look at me as he spoke. "You're gonna be my partner in every life and universe, even when we're old and grey, and you do that little knitting thing with the yarn and have grandkids, we'll still be together torturing Samu," he responded, earning a laugh as he kissed me. It felt like it always did, like I was sixteen again, kissing him for the first time in his room because we thought it would be better to practice kissing with each other so whenever we got our own partners, we didn't look silly.

"I hope Samu knows we'll become more insufferable with time," I mumbled against his lips as I turned my phone off. His head fell right back to its original position, sprawled out all over me as if he was my personal blanket. "He'll know, I can tell," he responded with a small smile.

[enjoythesilentworld]

Wille's Month - Soulmate

day 18 @youngroyals-events

Wille, crossfaded and face down on the football field, realizes some things.

Or, Wille sees his and Simon's lives laid out, intertwining across every universe.

read below or on ao3. (T, 800) cw: substance abuse

Wille can’t move. Well, he could move, he just doesn’t really want to. Despite the cold wetness pressed against his cheek and the grittiness in his mouth, he’s quite comfortable. No bed at a fancy palace could ever compare to this. Not even the bright lights in his half-open eyes bother him. His body feels light and wavy. If he shuts his eyes fully, though, things start to spin. That isn’t as comfortable, so he keeps them partially open, slowly blinking against the cold mist. 

There is a familiar smell about the place he can’t put his finger on. Has he been here before? 

Where is here?

The pointer finger on his right hand twitches. He remembers. He is on grass. No, not grass. Turf. He rolls onto his side and drags a hand through the damp plastic. The lingering rain is probably soaking through his clothes, too. His mamma would be so mad, if she saw him like this. The thought makes him giggle. 

Imagine the headlines, Mamma. 

I’m sorry I can’t be him. 

He doesn’t want to think about that anymore. He is tired. To make sure he still can, he brings both hands to his face and presses his palms into his eyes, inhaling deeply, then letting out the breath in a loud hum. He is so tired. 

A light flickers. He squeezes his eyes shut even tighter, letting his hands fall back to the ground again. 

He starts to drift. It’s a calm feeling. Distorted colors begin to dance across the backs of his eyelids. Warm purples and reds, then browns and greens. Shapes begin to form, too. The outline of a person, a building, a piano. 

Simon is there, suddenly, in his mind. He looks different, though. Older. He smiles at Wille then grabs his hand, pulling him through a book shop. Wille feels warm and happy. They’ve been here before, this is a favorite place of theirs. Simon wants to see if they have a new book in stock. They’ve just come from breakfast together. They are happy.

The image flickers. 

Simon is still there, but different again. He looks down at Wille from a stage, though he doesn’t know Wille, yet. Wille doesn’t know him either, just likes his music, but wants to know more. They find each other after the concert. Simon is flirty and forward and they quickly fall into each other. 

That Simon disappears, too, then changes into another. 

This Simon is younger, much younger, as is Wille. They’re both five and playing in a park. Wille tumbles off the slide and Simon offers a hand to help him up. They spend the rest of the day playing together, chasing each other around the playground and laughing until Wille’s mother pulls him away. 

Now, Simon looks across a table at Wille with teary eyes, boxes scattered around them. He whispers, I’m sorry, and sounds so broken and Wille wants to jump across the table at him, to beg him to stay, but he can’t. They had their time together and it was good and worth it, but it just couldn’t work anymore. 

Another Simon. Another Wille. This time, they meet in a foreign city. Simon is singing karaoke with friends at a random dive bar. Though he doesn’t normally do this – at least, this Wille doesn’t – he offers to buy Simon a drink, taken by his beautiful voice. They stumble back to Wille’s hotel together, laughing and yelling into the dark and empty streets. 

Wille blinks and he sees a football field at midnight. No, no, that’s not right. He shuts his eyes again. 

They are standing on a beach together, now. Simon has a small band on his ring finger and so does Wille. They are happy. The sand is warm and so is Simon’s hand in his. With a smile as bright as the sun, his husband turns to him and whispers, I love you. Wille presses a kiss into Simon’s forehead. And I love you.

A dozen more images shift across Wille’s mind, too fast to soak them in fully, but long enough to see Simon and to know how right it feels. Every place, every time, they find their way to each other. No matter what, no matter how they find each other, even if only for a short time. They are bound together; he feels the searing mark of it in his heart, hears the word soulmate whispered in his ear. But, too quickly, he feels Simon slipping away, all the little versions of him falling through Wille’s fingers even as he scrambles to keep hold. Grief and pain and confusion are already seeping back into his chest, and he wants to scream in frustration. 

Then Wille remembers, distantly, Simon doesn’t even know. He doesn’t know they’re meant to be together. He doesn’t know how right it is, how real it is. The realest thing Wille’s ever had.

Blindly, movements still slurred and choppy, joints tight from the cold, he reaches for his phone. The number is there, easily, his fingers typing it already before he can even think about it. 

“Hello?”

“Simon.”

[freetobeafcknriot]

Okay but hello! I saw your post about a Soulmate!AU for TUA and with season 4 coming I feel like I need to know more sooooo may I?

anon the way you made me screech and giggle and cry tears of joy because of course you may know more?? i've been waiting for this??? for reference, this is the post and this is how i'm tagging the au to keep track of it on my blog. because i may not have a title, but i'm an editor and sometimes a writer and almost always i just have an overreacting imagination. so i definitely needed a tag. anyway! i'll... idk i will give you a few details? hcs? this is the gist of it, buckle up !

the psa for this is that there are two kind of soulmarks: the ones you already have when you are born (if you're born with it; not everyone is and as a matter of fact the only two brellies to have a twin flame are allison and klaus) and the ones that appear through life (way more common). a case could be made to differentiate between these two categories, for which we either talk about twin flames—allegedly what once was one single soul now split in two perfect halves who are said to recognize and yearn for one another—or soulmates—two souls drawn to one another out of compatibility or remembrance who connect and form something.

this may vary from one culture to another, but there generally is no fixed standard regarding romantic or platonic bonds, as every soulmark and soul bond are unique in form and shape and meaning. this is the core of it all.

now. . . when they're little, reginald makes six of his seven children get the umbrella academy tattoo. in this universe, that tattoo is sort of a faux mark, because reginald had a strict and precise stance on soulmarks and at the time claimed that such things were foolish compared to the duty the academy had towards the world. the team should have formed a united front, be a unit, so that tattoo was a symbol that was to be seen as binding. marks and bonds can be made not just by fate, after all! at the time, little viktor was exempt from it because he wasn't part of the academy.

(little did they know that years down the line, in the sixties, an actual mark would appear on that same spot. this time though there would be seven of them.)

anyway, i don't know if you want a rundown of the soulmarks and whatnot? i have an in-depth list of bonds (both marked and not) with backstories and considerations and hcs regarding canon events that is quite lengthy because i imagine the au splitting in two branches at some point—one canon compliant up to season 4 when it's out and one canon divergent post-season 1 or 2—and  i'm also writing down a list of the soul bonds within the academy that is basically an abstract from viktor's book (because he would have included it too). i'll keep it short for starters because otherwise i'll end up unloading too much on you all and i'm afraid of being too all over the place, but basically. THE SOUL BONDS:

there's the tattoo of the series/faux mark and the actual soulmark that in my mind appears on top of it mid-season 2 and is shared by the brellies. team zero, hey? then from the oldest to the most recent to manifest we've got. . .

FIVE & VIKTOR, the rings ┈ because i nicknamed them all according to their soulmarks they have this small pigmented ring on the right ring finger that changes in shade depending on the physical distance between them. very subtle and cool and with much lore following canon, as you may guess. the only thing i'm gonna say for now is that five and vik's soul bond goes back to when they were four and it played a small role in the leaving lights on and sanwiches out situation.

LUTHER & ALLISON, the cryptolect ┈ it means that they can speak a language of their own. literally! it's impossible for anybody but them to understand it, reginald probably tried and failed to identify patterns or elements from various linguistic branches to make some sense of it but it just can't be picked up or taught as it's basically second nature. given how luther and allison were as kids it was such a big deal and so obvious that no one even remembers a time before and obviously due to recent events it's kinda cool to me to see it as a bit deteriorated but still ever-present bond.

FIVE & BEN, the wisps ┈ literally what five started calling the two flame-like little spirits that represent his and ben's soul bond after ben pointed out that they looked like the will-'o-the-wisp he'd read about in a book. but also because of the way they would appear and always lead the way to one another. that was their thing. nobody but five and ben has ever been able to see the wisps, not even klaus, so they had a theory that maybe they were an echoed apparition of their souls or something like that. there's a lot of lore/hcs here, too, especially regarding five's disappearance and time in the apocalypse and ben's afterlife as a ghost. all i can say is ‘so close yet far’ and ‘never truly gone’.

KLAUS & BEN, the timers ┈ it is as it says, only there were speculations about what the timers led to given that they weren't aligned (read: they were counting down to different dates) and not even made out of conventional numerals. the soulmark itself was a bit above the inner crook of the left elbow, no darker than a sunspot, regularly in motion and indicating years, months, days, hours, minutes, and seconds in roman numerals, which is part of the reason why it was a bit difficult to interpret with no previous familiarity. even more so if you're oblivious or in denial. again, lore and angst and delayed realization came with a row of light null characters in its stead. quite a bit of baggage because i love them and canon says so.

DIEGO & KLAUS, the compass ┈ more specifically, i have it jotted down as a moving indicator that appeared more or less when they were around thirteen or fourteen. it might have seemed out of the blue then, but all things considered it wasn't that unexpected, especially when you look at season one or if you too think that diego used to haul klaus from the streets or drag him to rehab if they ran into one another. anyway, their soulmark is kind of a compass if you go by its shape. it's embedded on the lower part of the palm of their right hand, towards the thumb (below klaus' hello tattoo), and it does move and spin, but instead of pointing north it points you towards the general direction of the other.

OG!BEN & VIKTOR, the blossoms ┈ the most subtle and late soul bond of them all. i like to think that the lowest numbers were close as kids, given the information we were given, so even though their relationship might have stilled a little in their teens it was still tender enough to grant viktor and ben a soul bond. they were never sure of when it happened because the only instance where the soulmark in on itself becomes visible is when they touch. physical contact equals a tiny luminescent outlined flower appearing near the knuckle of their left middle finger. to which i feel the need to remind you all of this:

so these are the soul bonds within the hargreeves siblings! without taking into account sparrow!ben (or the sparrows in general) because stars do i have something in store for pookie as well.

i was tempted to add more, but i also wanted to emphasize how there doesn't always need to be an actual, visible soulmark for a bond to be important plus i'm waiting to see if season 4 makes me add more lol. diego is a primary example of this because, without spoiling anything, he secretly craved that kind of bond as a child, even though his siblings love him just the same regardless. it's also the reason why i have a list of non-marked bonds as well as one for soul bonds featuring characters outside of the academy. there might also be a playlist somewhere, because each bond has a song in my mind, but i digress!

this has gotten super long already so for now, that's it that's all. but i'm tagging this au and working on it and my inbox is there if you uuh, wanna chat about it more? ngl it was hard not being able to rant about it with anybody, because there are some elements and facts and implications there that genuinely alter my brain chemistry daily. so thank you for the ask, nonnie! <3

[random-xpressions]

To reduce the idea of soulmate to an individual is such a limiting belief. This universe and every atom in it has been an eternal lover of yours ever since the beginning of time. It has been plotting all this while to finally bring you out in the shape and form you are today. The moon kept a watch over you while you were still a toddler sucking milk from your mother's breast. The clouds sheltered you while you were playing around in the streets as a kid. The stars were there to hear your heart's silent grievances when you were growing up as an adolescent. Perhaps the tree in your neighborhood may be missing you on the days you have fallen sick and you are on your bed rest. Our misery too is in this unfortunate truth that we deposit all our expectations on a single human being, too frail to manage their own life perfectly, what do you expect? There are flowers blooming in the backyard with whom you could undertake another exciting conversation. There are angels with you day and night keeping your guard with whom you could limitlessly engage. The walls in your room too can hear and see, nothing around you is not without life. I see the entire universe around me for a tremendous potential partnership. I'd never just limit the idea of companionship with a human soul. Every atom in this existence is vibrating with a soul. Without the spirit, the matter cannot exist!

Random Xpressions

[spectralsleuth]

Don't know if you're still accepting asks about LSoW, but you mentioned once that all of the turtles in your au are intersex, except Mikey. Can I ask why you made them so and why Mikey is the exception?

I'm always accepting asks about LSoW! :D I'm not the best about answering them because I have crippling anxiety, but I love getting asks. ;-;

Disclaimer first: Genuinely no disrespect to any intersex people, because chromosomal differences and IRL intersex conditions have near next nothing to do with (I cannot exaggerate this enough) TEENAGE MUTANT NINJA TURTLES, the depiction of the Turtles in LSoW, or honestly, half the AU's with the same sort of headcanon. So keep that in mind. I strongly encourage people to do some research into actual intersex people and characteristics, because it isn't my intention at all to represent very normal people with (STILL CANNOT EXAGGERATE THIS ENOUGH) TEENAGE MUTANT NINJA TURTLES. (Although if there IS an intersex person who reads LSoW and is like, hell yeah ninja turtles are just like me, more power to you brother. I wrote it for you and you only, I am kissing you gently on the head like a benevolent patron.)

That being said, 'intersex' was the best term I could come up with for this head canon, and fits so.

Reason 1: It's funny.

I am making Leonardo ninja turtle deal with turtle equivalent of periods, that is the funniest shit I will ever do. The idea that A: Raph dealt with it first, B: Leo was a smug shithead about it and then dealt with it a year after, and then C: Donnie was SMUGGER THAN HIM, and also dealt with it the NEXT WEEK? Hilarious. I am a comedy god.

Also I think I headcanoned Raph as having CJ with Casey a long time ago because Casey and Raph are soulmates in every universe. But problem is I headcanon Casey as TRANS, so how did they have Casey? Adoption is also great, but you know what would be FUNNIER-

(egg babey)

Reason 2: Mikey's personality. (Also, it's funny again.)

When Draxum was making the turtles in LSoW, he gave them all the bits and pieces he needed in order to make them effective yokai super soldiers. Man literally said 'I'm making a turtle that can hold a sword and do backflips, I'm gonna give it all this other stuff too, OBVIOUSLY.' But box turtles are already pretty territorial and aggressive? I think the reason I gave at the time was Draxum literally said, 'Michelangelo is already so territorial if I gave him estrogen he'd have killed the others.' (Which is a gross oversimplification of how turtles split gender in the egg, herpetologists pls don't @ me they're ninja turtles I am sorry.)

Also it's funny again because Mikey is also smug down the chain of brothers from oldest to youngest with not having to deal with this embarrassing problem, but then DOESN'T get whacked with the egg whammy stick like the others?? Smug youngest sibling?? Mikey asking Leo with fake sympathy, 'Oh, is it your troubles again?' and Leo is forced to try and kill him with a rock.

Reason 3: Draxum (Also STILL YET ANOTHER reason to be funny.)

Draxum figures in the far off distant future if his supersoldiers DO make nests and eggs, a very territorial and family oriented guard that DOESN'T nest would be super effective.

Imagine the post apocalypse future where Raph and Casey have CJ, and you are a simple resistance soldier. You are minding your business surveying Krang tunnels after a delicious breakfast of beetle protein bar shaped into dino-nuggie form courtesy of Donatello Hamato, and Mystic Master Michelangelo appears out of the shadows in a side tunnel and tries to skin you with a fork because you got within a half mile of his expecting brother and his ninja girl friend.

(The only Y/N fic I will ever write.)

I hope that answers the question!! Also reminder to everyone that even though I am taking a little break from TMNT, my fics are far from abandoned and I have them cooking along in the background. Most of the writing I get done is in spite of horrible unmedicated ADHD, anxiety, and being 30 years old with a very tiring job and increasingly troubling disability. That's not me complaining, but I think a little reminder that a lot of fic writers do this as a hobby. The second I feel the slightest bit of pressure I crumble away from fics like I've been cursed by a mummy, because feeling pressure from something so silly is wild to me.

This ask actually I think is a perfect way to show how to support your fave fic authors, and encourage them to continue writing! I actually had to sit down and think about my own notes, and talk over my reasoning with The Council in dm's (@/tangledinink and @/heck lol). So thanks!

[landhoe-norris]

here are all twelve fics and one art that the wonderful participants of the winter break fic exchange in the carlando server made and posted.

i want to thank @boohowdy and @ruffboisebvettel for helping me with the planning and execution of this, for the cheerleading and for always being available for anyone who had any questions.

huge thanks to everyone who participated. thank you for putting your hearts and souls into your work; thank you for always being there for each other, and thank you for allowing us to share in your multitude of talents and creativity. you are all amazing people, and the carlando server is lucky to have you all.

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watch this space, I'm open to falling from grace by tiredtiredsharl (@wolfiemcwolferson)

Summary: Lando is used to not seeing the people who live in the building. He comes and goes at odd hours and he uses the laundry room on his days off in the middle of the day and he checks his mail at 3:30 in the morning, so it’s more weird to him that he runs into Carlos twice in a five day period. He had started to think that he maybe made it up - got dosed at the bar or had a vivid dream about a man who was every single fantasy he’s ever had - tall and broad and hair and hands and lips.

Someone new moves into 4B and nothing is as it seems.

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are you a future or a fairytale – am i naive or is this real by Missha (Mishtique) (@mish-tique)

Summary: It takes Lando a few semesters before he finally settles for studying photography at an international university. He hopes that this is the time when he finally settles and turns out to be happy studying – his parents just pray that he won’t change his mind again. They want him to settle down, find a nice person and become stable.

He just wants to be happy and live his own life without having people trying to micromanage it.

His sudden decision to also rent a room on campus comes with a surprise in the form of a Spanish, older, and-blessed-with-visuals-shaped-by-the-gods Alpha.

Carlos Sainz Jr is both the best and the worst thing that could happen to him during his first year in uni. Especially when the alpha keeps walking in on him wearing his, his – pretty clothes.

Or: 5 times Carlos catches Lando with something special + 1 time Lando wears something special for Carlos.

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i love you forever, not maybe (you’re my one true love) by csjr (@boohowdy)

Summary: Lando is starting to suspect that off-camera, he’s quite the soft and gentle guy. What did he say once in an interview? He protects love? I’d love to be protected, Lando thinks.

or: the one where Lando is a student, Carlos is a F1 driver, and they go through a lot before they get their happy ending

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Twin Flame by Phebes (@phebess)

Summary: 98% of people know exactly when they've met their soulmate. 2% do not.

or: the soulmate slow burn that nobody asked for

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All The World Wondered 🔒 by biscuitydenim

Summary: Crimean War AU

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Pull Everything to Pieces by kolyarostov (@landinrris)

Summary: Daniel’s here because he left classified documents on a train for someone to find (and find them they did). Max is here because he was in charge of tailing a suspect who was dealing illegal firearms and lost track of them (and thus the guns that were eventually found at the scenes of various crimes). Pierre’s here because he royally fucked up a diplomatic meeting with the French ambassador (Carlos thinks it was probably accidental nudes). Carlos is pretty sure Nico’s here because no one actually likes him. What he doesn’t truly know is why Lando’s here— but it can’t be good.

Or: Carlos gets sent to the bottom of the MI5 ladder after a training fiasco, and he'll do anything to make up for it.

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That’s what happens in the movies, anyways 🔒 by Belzebubcat (@waddlingpenguin)

Summary: Lando isn’t sure what he expects. Maybe he thought Carlos would kiss him or- or say it back. That’s what happens in the movies, anyways. He leans in, eyes on Carlos and presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

Carlos doesn't respond.

There are no fireworks.

No string quartet playing in the background.

It’s nothing like what happens in the movies.

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Those Lazy-Hazy-Crazy Days of Summer (With You) 🔒 by Toasted_Teacake (@the-toasted-teacake)

Summary: Carlos invites Lando to spend a few days at the Sainz villa under the guise of golf. Lando thinks he might finally be ready to fall.

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it's the heart that really matters in the end 🔒 by LucysFault (@ruffboisebvettel)

Summary: So here Lando is, completing one step of the journey alongside his son, and a family somewhere out there are on the same path but just starting out. It’s like Candyland in his mind. They’re moving over the finish line while the other family have just had their piece placed on the board.

Or, Lando and Carlos meet in a hospital cafe, Daniel and Charles are their kids, and some springs are worth waiting for.

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Impractical Magic by goldenboygate (@goldenboygate)

Summary: Charles and Lando were born into a family where falling in love means you end up dead. They take different paths in life, Charles wanting nothing more in life than to feel the exhilaration love brings, and Lando too afraid to ever put himself out there.

When Charles gets into trouble with one of his boyfriends, Lando must figure out how to help him while trying his best not to fall in love with the one man who can take his life apart, Detective Carlos Sainz.

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Take My Breath Away by kabutocat (@foo1ishheart554)

Summary: Art. Lando and Carlos as Maverick and Iceman from the original Top Gun.

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take my sweater with the loose threads by sadcornyfuck (@enjoythebutterflies)

Summary: Carlos is a patient man, waiting his entire life for a moment like this.

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Te amo - I love you 🔒 by NamarieCarlando (@jolandax13)

Summary: Carlos and Lando are roommates. And in love. They just don’t know the other feels the same. But when Landos suppressants run out and he goes into heat, their feelings are finally revealed.