#flower scars soulmate au | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

fandoms-in-law · 1 month ago

Text

Revealing Flowers

Summary: Steve and Eddie both know they're soulmates. They've never spoken and don't know how to start speaking to each other but they know it. The Upside Down at least gets them talking to each other.

Steve knew his soulmate. He just didn't know how to approach or talk to him.

Eddie knew Steve's soulmate. He was trying to pretend he didn't unless Steve started speaking to him.

Hawkins High didn't know who Steve Harrington's soulmate was and loved to speculate and gossip each time he saw a girl more than once.

Robin Buckley had been a prime candidate until she produced the receipt for her tattoo of flowers people had pointed at saying they matched Steve's. It had been a promise to each other of permanence but not dictated by a soulmate bond.

The only other student everyone knew had tattoos was Eddie and even he'd stuck to animals and patterns rather than convincing the artist to let him have flowers.

They'd forgotten the times the jocks had bullied him for fake soulmate flowers. Billy had found it especially fun to do after the second ones that appeared on his face vanished in a few weeks. Somehow he never realised those flowers matched with other injuries he'd recently caused.

"I don't get it." Robin said, hurrying through the store to start her shift.

Steve watched her curiously since no customers were around. "Get what?"

"Nobody knows your soulmate but you say you do. How? You're not dating them or speak to anyone other than that kids and me." she spoke quickly, glancing at the door.

"Eh, he got bullied over faking soulmate flowers. I was off for part of the week but the fading ones matched my injuries. Just didn't know how to talk to him so tried getting the bullying to stop." Steve shrugged. He'd mentioned before that his soulmate was male but never wanted to say who before actually speaking to him.

"Munson? Him? You can easily start talking to him. He's leading the kids club or is it some other guy you've complained over losing Dustin to a million times." Robin rolled her eyes as if it really was that easy.

Steve raised an eyebrow at her. "And when my injuries and scars get questioned?"

She opened and closed her mouth a few times trying to think of something but the after work customers started arriving before she did.

"Help us find Eddie!" Dustin had snapped it while he and Max did all they could to take over Family Video.

Steve froze, before reaching for the scissors. "Robin? Write 'Let me help. Where are you?' with these please?" He asked, holding both hands out. He wasn't sure Eddie would reply but it would give a better answer than whatever the kids planned on doing.

She didn't say anything as she did, and he didn't react to the scratches being put on the back of his hand, looking to the kids instead. "He's my soulmate. I just never knew how to approach him and he didn't speak to me either. This is over Cunningham, right?"

"It's gotta be back! Eddie wasn't meant to get involved!" Dustin agreed, pacing from stress. "Let's call the rest of Hellfire, see if they know where he'd go."

Max shot a judgemental look at Dustin before turning it on Steve. "Are you explaining that so Dustin forgets to freak out about it cause he's worrying already?"

"Nope just to explain doing this." Steve held his arm up as Robin had just finished scratching his message out.

Before more could be said though flowers were appearing on his forearm.

Steve glanced at them and around the shop. "I'm calling Keith. Your parents have insisted you go home to stay safe if there's someone murdering girls in Hawkins and mine are demanding I join them in California for safety though I've no clue how they heard about the murder already. He can manage the shop now." He resolved. If the Upside Down was back it had never been a one day and finished situation, except for Starcourt but he wasn't sure of that even.

"He replied? Let's go!" Dustin was trying to push them out the door before Steve could make the call and getting dodged.

"After I've at least tried to ensure we have a job for after this is sorted." Steve insisted, glancing at his arm and seeing it still wasn't enough to just drive to. He checked on their system for the full address from the name on his arm while making the call.

Eddie had peered out of the boat shed when Steve knocked, justifiably hesitant but letting the four of them in silent until the door was shut. "I didn't do it, Harrington. I don't know what happened." he said then,eyes remaining on Steve the entire time.

"So it wasn't a monster? Normally when things like this happen in Hawkins a monster is seen." Steve asked, certain that would've been mentioned rather than nothing known.

Eddie blinked at that, slumping in on himself. "You're serious? Weird shit has happened before?"

"Yes but it changes every time." Steve gentle his tone, accepting that even if Robin max and Dustin were there and at least one of them wanted to ask their own questions Eddie was only focusing on him. "What did you see? So we can try and help from there."

"She... fuck! Chrissy levitated, floated to the ceiling and then-" Eddie broke off heaving slightly. "Don't make me describe it. She died on the ceiling."

Dustin made a noise of alarm, getting the pair to jump to face him, "Only El has done that so far! And that's when she's in sight of a person!"

"El?" Eddie asked, glancing around at Max and Robin as if expecting one of them to identify as her.

"A girl who had superpowers, moved away last year and had lost them." Steve explained in an aside, he clicked at Dustin, heading towards the door. "You think that through. Let's get to the car. Eddie, you're being a coat pile and coming with us."

Eddie didn't stand, even as Robin and Max filed out.

He was shaking his head before Steve looked back at him. "I can't risk that. They're - they're blaming me, aren't they?"

"You can. Nobody would expect you to be staying at my house, Munson. They're idiots so come on, big empty house with heating and comfy beds or a drafty boat house?" Steve repeated his decision, gesturing impatiently.

Eddie still hesitated but at another gesture reluctantly followed.

They didn’t talk about being soulmates. Through the time Eddie was hiding at Steve’s, through Nancy and Robin trying to investigate more of what Wayne had mentioned and Dustin’s realisation that the compasses were changing direction towards a gate, neither Eddie or Steve mentioned the soulmate connection again.

That’s not to say they didn’t grumble about it, Eddie had definitely had complaints over how weird soulmate flowers felt as they formed and Steve got to point out he’d never had enough to notice.

He was noticing now, feeling his skin rippling even as he worked with Nancy and Robin to try and get their original plan back. Whatever had happened with Dustin and Eddie while the vines had tried to kill them was probably killing Eddie now and Steve knew he needed to rush.

Without saying more than “Eddie.” He handed the axe to Robin once their molotovs were thrown and ran, hoping she’d be able to behead Vecna while he tried to save Eddie’s life.

The extra seconds he got from feeling the flowers forming might not have saved Eddie’s life but Steve definitely felt like they did as he lost himself in as much first aid as the Upside Down allowed and getting himself, Dustin and Eddie out and to the hospital. He’d raise hell himself if anyone tried using bullshit accusations to prevent his soulmate getting necessary care.

“My boy’s been worried about you.” Wayne commented seeing Steve coming back to the room.

In the week since Eddie was admitted they’d gotten to know each other pretty well, chatting the times Eddie slept through their visits but Steve still felt unnerved by the comment. “I know. He’d been trying to get the nurses to bring a second bed in here so I can rest properly instead of in a chair.”

“I don’t mean since whatever happened. I mean since 83 when his face got covered in flowered to match your injuries and every year since then.” Wayne corrected, nodding to the other chair, “Although he is definitely worried about you currently too.”

He blinked at the mention, eyes tracing over Eddie automatically. “We haven’t spoken about it.”

“But you both know you’re sticking to each other anyway.” The observation was one Steve had been avoiding. It felt vulnerable to admit that when Eddie hadn’t said anything but Wayne didn’t look annoyed. He’d spoken as if that was a fact.

“I don’t want to leave him, but it’s Eddie’s choice what we are, do.” Steve muttered, spotting Eddie’s eyes flickering but after a moment of quiet he settled back to sleep again.

Wayne watched him for a moment, “Well how’re you gonna learn that if neither of you will start talking about it? I’ve been telling him to just say hi to you for years and now you’re talking you ain’t mentioning the soulmates connection for some reason. He said that was how you found him but you’re still not asking how he feels about it or saying what you think. Silence don’t get you far.”

Steve nodded, pursing his lips as he thought over the advice. “Okay, Eddie, stop pretending to sleep and join the conversation. You wanna date and be soulmates?”

“Yes?” Eddie’s brow furrowed, his head rolling to blink at Steve. “How’d you know I was listening?”

“I heard talking as I came up the hall. Wayne doesn’t talk to himself.” Steve stared between Uncle and Nephew unamused for a moment. “I know Dustin told you about the other times shit happened. If there’s one clue I’m going to notice first in the group it’s noises cause my hearing is the best.”

“Oh.” Eddie paused for a moment, taking in that information, “So soulmates?”

Steve smiled at him sweetly, “Yes, I’ll get a date arranged for when you’re released, okay?”

“Okay.”

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #steddie #platonic stobin #soulmate au #flowers for scars soulmate au #wayne munson

20 notes · View notes

safely-in-vhagars-belly · 20 days ago

Text

Chains of Bones: DARK!GODAEMOND X READER PART TWO (YES ITS HERE)

Tags: DARK AEMOND, GREEK MYTHOLOGY INSPIRED AU

🔷Summary: You are a servant working for the goddess Rhaenyra and the God Daemon. You are tasked with protecting the flowers and one day, you find yourself captured by rhaenyra's greatest enemy: Aemond.

🔷Author's note: Dark af.

WARNINGS: Misogny, (no kidding) emotional manpulation, dubcon, body betrayl, vaginal sex (f recv) oral sex (f recev) rough sex, mentions of loss of virginty, emotional gaslighting and gore, blood, and a lot of...BONES. (Blood licking for this chapter)

This is a dead dove

Do not eat it.

(a+ warning)

wordcount:8265 (such a chonky)

Daemon's pov

It truly is set to be a special day. He could tell by the gathering dark clouds, the thunder that lightened the dark fields outside of the palace and the way how the moon was hidden behind the clouds. Darkness had certainly been fed, in more ways than one. He can’t help but think of Aemond whenever he looks at the night sky. How close they once were, and how far they’ve fallen apart. And for what? A crown, a wife, daughters? Who started this fight and who is truly in the wrong? Daemon? Aemond? Or is this all part of some greater scheme? Fate, destiny, however you like to call it? Daemon pours himself a drink.

‘’Did you let her go?’’ A voice booms out behind him. He is startled by the appearance of his wife, the goddess of light. Rhaenyra stands before him, wearing a red, scarlet gown with long sleeves and golden details, matching her golden ever shining crown. Her hands are uneasily folded in front of her, and he can tell she is upset. He doesn’t understand it yet. But somehow his instincts tell him that it’s all Aemond’s doing. Somehow.

His wife is pale of pure terror and yet still red of fury. ‘’I can’t believe this, Daemon! How could you be so stupid?!’’ She shouts, revealing her perfect teeth. Daemon is shocked by the words she uses. ‘’Do you know who she was?’’ Aside from a hungry orphan they took in one day to attend the gardens…No. He has no clue. He doesn't care. As long as she keeps Aemond happy he could not care about her happiness at all.

He knows Aemond. He treats his lovers well and already sounded smitten beyond words. That orphan will be shocked once he showers her with gold and love, when she is getting a happier life than forever here cutting flowers and watering them. ‘’Aemond’s soulmate? His Queen? He will treat the girl well in the Underworld. He plans to marry her, make her his wife and the mother of his children. This is a good thing, Rhaenyra.’’ He grabs her gloved hands, feeling where her scar hides beneath silk and lace. ‘’Aemond promised he’d invite us to the wedding. We can be reunited, as a family. The way my brother, your father, wanted it.’’

The thought of breaking bread with Aemond Targaryen makes her blood boil. He was not meant for any of his gifts. He was not meant to be the God of death. Nothing of this was meant to happen. ‘’Do not drag my father into this. There is a reason why Aemond missed out on his godhood by choice. My father never meant for him to be a god of anything, let alone death itself! And the girl you gave to him? Did it ever occur to you that Aemond had another, darker motive to kidnap her?’’

He sighs but he should have expected such a rude answer. Rhaenyra is a sweet woman who doesn't understand that men sometimes are over taken by their desires. Aemond as the embodiment of death most of all. ‘’Men have desires-”

She snorts. She had hoped he would believe her and trust her word. ‘’I used to think you were clever. Your love for your nephew has blinded you. He is the one missing an eye, but you are the blind one here. You can’t see how he’s using you, sucking you dry and ruining our lives. What do you think will happen now that Aemond founds his soulmate?’’

Daemon rolls his eyes. Why should he care? The girl will be wedded and bedded and married off and sooner rather than later carry Aemonds children inside her belly. Why should he be concerned with any of that? ‘’I assume he’s planning a wedding.’’

She plays with her rings, firing a question at Daemon that breaks his shield and finally shows him how dreadful this situation truly is. Rhaenyra knows Aemond did not take the girl because he was overcome with lust or love. He took her as part of a strategy. She never has been close to her half brother but she knows he won't ever behave as a smitten boy. That part of him died long ago. And it wont come back. ‘’Do you think he’ll let her die?’’ Daemon freezes. He didn't think about that. He was so happy for Aemond and for a way to weaken his powers…That he didn't think of one very crucial detail. This girl needs to be kept alive. She needs to become immortal for Aemond's desires. And that means….

She watches Daemon slow and painful battle inside his own head. She can see the disappointment in his eyes. He is disappointed in himself. And so is she.

‘’Do you think he’ll make another mistake like that?’’ she asks as a follow up question. They both know the answer. No. No he wouldn't. Aemond would never make the same mistake twice. Daemon knows that better than anyone.

‘’Aemond will be looking into making her immortal, Daemon!’’ Rhaenyra shouts. Daemon doesn't respond at first but smashes a vase in frustration. ‘’You endangered everyone we love and hold dear! Rhaena, Baela, Jace, Joffrey, even Aegon and Viserys! He will be out with knives lurking on us all until we make the tiniest slip up so his whore can become a Goddess!” She tries to storm out of the room but he stops her by appearing right in front of her, putting his arms around her body. The light in her hands shimmers as the room darkens.

All that can be heard is the promise leaving Daemon’s lips. ‘’I will make this right.’’ He has to save his children and his wife. He will protect his family. Even if it means hurting or even killing Aemond.

Rhaenyra steps out of his reach, denying him his comfort. Her eyes are tear stained and in the corner of her eyes are silver shines. ‘’How could you? Aemond outwitted us. He won this battle. I hope for the sake of everyone that he won’t win the war.’’

Daemon feels panic take hold of him, the way a puppet is pulled on a string. He cannot let Aemond win. He shouts the words one more time, willing himself to believe it. ‘’I will make this right.’’

His wife doesn't respond, she touches the silver with gold entrusted crown on her blonde locks. ‘’Good luck. We have another problem. The real reason why Aemond likely kidnapped her. It has nothing to do with love. But with his plan to get his hands on the crown.’’

She sits down on her throne. ‘’He lied to you, Daemon. He doesn’t love this poor girl. He is only interested in making the girl immortal so the sacrifice can be bigger. He doesn't plan on marrying her. He plans on murdering her.”

—---

You sit in the throne room helpless and completely alone. You still can't believe all that has happened. The King of the underworld has taken you home with him, claiming that he and you have this connection as he calls it. He then captured you and made love to you when holding you prisoner in the gardens.

Something terrifying happened in the gardens. Despite your fears and better judgment, you ended up enjoying yourself when he took you. You enjoyed his cold fingers that somehow set your skin on fire and enjoyed his mouth sucking on your skin and the way he kept taking and taking…

And that is terrifying. Because maybe that's proof of what Aemond also believes. That you somehow are meant for one another. That you are his soulmate, that your bond conquerors somehow all. That is terrifying.

You sit on the floor, trying one last time to break the necklace Aemond put around your throat. You give it a final good yank, almost choking yourself in the process. But it's no use. The stubborn bones only become stronger and you become weaker. So that won't be your way out. Time to see what will.

You aren't sure where Aemond ran off too. You don't want to know. You eye the big iron with blue sapphires decorated throne that stands all the way back in the room. You notice banners hanging with gems and black lace, and eternal fire keeps the room well lit with torches.

The throne looks uncomfortable and unpleasant. You wouldn't want to sit it for sure. Opposite of the throne, all the way back to the beginning of the room are two huge closed doors with dragon heads as handles. You understand that is your only way out.

You run over the lush dark red carpet that is spread before the throne, careful to not hurt yourself by tripping over your own feet or the carpet. The carpet seems to only grow and grow and the room to extend beyond its original size. You are convinced Aemond is playing a game with you at some point.

Until the carpet finally stops growing, and you stumble head first into the doors. You curse, rubbing your head as you stare at the doors. There is magic at work here. Dark magic. You try to recall all that Rhaenyra taught you about dark magic.

But aside from “Never ever use it” Rhaenyra didn't teach you anything about it. It's not her fault. She didn't know you would need it now. Neither did you.

You push the dragon head handle all the way down and the door opens with an annoying hard screech, close to the cry of a creature. Startled, you look around before entering the hallway, worried that the noise lured Aemond out of his hiding.

But in the hallway awaits no one but tall walls with glass windows, where dark shadows hide behind. You see nothing but the lush carpet that is rolled out over the ancient stones and only hear the flames dancing in the chandeliers and the wind howling outside.

And yet you know.

You are not alone here.

Someone is watching you.

Aemond, that is likely.

You resist the urge to scream at the halls, cursing his name and yell at him for kidnapping you. You bravely continue your exploration. Mostly because you don't want to sit around until Aemond decides to give you attention again. You don't want to give him that satisfaction. You gave him enough already. Too much.

So you go on.

Step by step and breath by breath as you explore the big castle. It is older than the castle that Daemon and Rhaenyra have. You don't know how you know that. But something inside you tells you that you are entering grounds that are older than you could even imagine. You feel like a trespasser which is ridiculous. Aemond kidnapped you. He took you here. You didn't want to come along.

Finally you end up on a fork in the road where four different halls lead to bigger hallways with more doors and more secrets no doubt. You need to make a choice. Truth be told you are afraid. You don't want to get stuck in a cursed room or worse find a lost soul. You want to find the way out.

You eventually decide to go left. You could always walk back if you changed your mind. You walk and when you turn around..

The castle hallway has vanished and you are surrounded by darkness. Suddenly, the throne room seems much more pleasing and inviting. You step forward, chasing the light with small steps.

When you reach it, your eyes are blinded and the world fades for a brief moment. You open your eyes and see that you are in a room. It has tall walls but no windows. There are various childrens toys laying around. Toys that seem old and stitched up. Bears with missing eyes and bunnies with missing ears. There are also cradles and bassinets. The whole room appears to be a nursery.

Why would Aemond need a nursery?

You feel your throat cut off as your stomach grumbles. Your heart begins to beat louder as the worst fears come to mind. You need to calm yourself down and tell yourself that you are simply hungry. In truth, you are worried. Terrified. He thinks you are his soulmate, he is definitely interested in having children with you. You won’t let that happen, however.

But first you need to get away from Aemond. You turn around…

“Would you like a pie, Milady?” A voice whispers near your ear. You scream, turning around to face whoever asked that question.

You are met with a skeleton of a woman. She has long brown hair that is tucked away in a veil. Her bones are clearly visible and have damage here and there. You can tell she is an old soul. The woman smiles, patting the chairs next to two bears. “I make the best pies. The secret is fresh ingredients.” That’s not a secret at all, you want to snap at her. You don’t.

You don't trust her.

She begins to cackle. “You are as wary as your husband. I simply wanted to offer you a welcome gift. A pledge of loyalty.” You don’t like it when she calls Aemond your ‘’husband’’. You didn’t marry him nor consent to come here. He is not your husband and you are not his wife, no matter what that bone-wearing creature thinks.

You scoff. “I don't intend to stay here.” You will make that very clear. You will find a way out and you won't become Aemonds wife or the mother of his children. You don’t want pie, you don’t want food, or anything. No. You are filled with rage and all you want is to leave this place or hit Aemond on his nose. Option one seems impossible, but option two results in certain death so you which option you’d prefer.

She seems to soften at those words. She pities you, clearly. And who wouldnt? A girl, dragged into the underworld for Aemond’s dark desires and plots. She knows him better than you do. He pretends around you, he plays and preforms. He’s her captor. He is honest with this woman. She seems to know a truth that you do not know just yet but will learn soon enough: That Aemond always gets what he wants. “You should get something in your belly. You can't think on an empty belly.” You consider her words and sit down. “Smart lass. I make dozens of pies for your husband.” Maybe she can slip in something to make him sleep. So you can escape.

“He is not my husband.” You hiss between your teeth. She chuckles amused.

And that's when you look at the small oven in the corner of the room. You notice more bears standing there as if guarding the oven. “What is this place?” You ask.

“This is my eternal punishment. The King mistook me for another woman and locked me here. To suffer for all eternity.” You don't understand how he is making her suffer. The room seems wellkept and there is clearly food.

She smiles but it doesn't reach her eyes. “You should eat the pie. I made it for you.” She says. You look at the pie she presents you. You don’t have any skills aside from gardening and watering plants. But there is another skill, a hidden talent from a life before all this. You are very good at reading people, especially when they are lying to you. And this woman, whatever reason she has for you to eat that cake, it is not good. You stand up, shaking your head trying to be polite.

“I am not hungry. Sorry for disturbing you.” it feels as if you broke something. As if glass shatters. A barrier breaks. And the woman smashes the plate to the ground. You watch as worms come crawling out of the pie, the one bigger than the other. She rips off her veil, revealing a big stitch around her neck. Her head is close to falling from her shoulders.

You back away, terrified, as her head dangles. “Don't look so afraid. King Aemond stitched my head back himself.” She chuckles. “He likes it when I lose my head over and over and over and over-” You don’t let her finish, running away. She shrieks before grabbing your arm, dragging her nails into your skin as her eyes rot in her head, worms crawling over her skin and the smell of rot fills your nose.

A shiver runs over your back as more darkness briefly kills the light in the nursery room. A magic trick. A trick that reminds you of how Aemond first introduced himself to you. There were romantic roses, to avoid scaring you. You see it now. Because he can also choose to appear in a cloud of thunder and darkness, hell and doom.

He doesn't speak a word to you and instantly addresses the woman. “What are you doing with the Queen? Didn't I warn you to stay in the cellar, where you belong?” He lifts his head. You don’t speak, aware you didn’t had his permission to enter this room and he won’t like it when he finds out you were almost murdered or tried to escape.

The woman sighs, stomping her feet in frustration but understands the fight is a lost one now. She won’t harm you. But it was never about you to begin with. It was about him. She wanted to kill you, to hurt Aemond. And you realize that many others will do the same after this woman. “I wanted to offer her pie. She is an orphan, Aemond. You didn't tell me she is an orphan. You know what I think of orphans.” You feel uneasy. How does she even know that?

She turns to you when you back away, eying a frying pan near the table. She has one chance. “I ran an orphanage in my old life. Aemond hated how many souls I saved so he killed me and took me with him. But I saved dozens of little children from suffering, the way I did.” she proclaims. You feel conflicted.

Aemond nods, smiling very unconvincingly before lifting her into the air and smashing her against the table before she can even reach her weapon. Plates and bears fall to the ground as you gawk. Aemond twists his fingers and blood comes pouring out of her eyes, as well her mouth as he creates holes by cutting open vines in her face. Blood comes pouring out. “You. Hurt. Her.” he hisses, his pupil tells you all you need to know. He's obsessed, driven by revenge and out of control. Consumed by something bigger than you, bigger than him, even. It's something ancient, something that is always just lurking around, waiting for its turn…

Darkness.

Pure utter darkness.

“You think you touch what belongs to me? Kill what is mine by right? I didn't spend years looking for her to have her stolen from me. Not by you, not by Daemon nor by Rhaenyra!” he screams at her, spit ending up on the poor woman's face. You need to stop him.

But you are frozen all the same. No one, no one ever cared if you were hurt. No one defended you like that. You shake your head, trying to focus on saving the woman for now. No matter how nice his defence feels he's wrong for hurting her. “Your Grace-” You tell him, tugging his cloak. You even called him his grace, expecting to sooth his ego.

He doesn't hear you and if he does he does not care. “She is trembling like a leaf.” He cuts off the air of the woman by choking her. “You don't get to scare her. You will suffer for your sins.” He hisses. “I will decorate the throne hall with your blood. How dare you upset her?! Your bones will decorate her head!”

You run out of options. “Aemond!” You scream as the remaining skin of the servant flesh begins to burn away, revealing deep holes with rotten bones below. You grab his arm, putting a stop to it.

You are pushed back by a force, ending up on the floor. Aemond stops immediately what he is doing, regret and worry written across his face as he kneels down besides you. He grabs your hands, rubbing the skin with his fingers as he looks into your eyes. “Petal, my dear. Speak to me.” He pleads. You sit back up, without his help.

“Never do that again.” He bites out, the moment he knows you are fine. “You could have been hurt.” He adds. He turns to the woman. He notices the worms on the floor. His cold expression becomes even colder. The woman trembles as Aemond crushes a worm under the heel of his boots. “To the fire with you. I will decide your fate later. But prepare for torture like you never had before.” Aemond vows before making the woman vanish.

You catch your breath. You can't believe he did that. Without any intentions he did that. He could've killed you. Easily. You need to be careful. This man might be your soulmate according to him but that doesn't make you a goddess. It makes you mortal and vulnerable. It makes you weak.

You decide to ask the truth. “You were hurting that woman.” He tilts his head as if confused before he breaks into a soulless grin. He gestures around the room, before bending and picking up a teddy bear with two missing eyes.

“You don't know who she is, do you?” You don't care who she is, she is to be treated with respect. Rhaenyra taught you that. Souls who come by her are treated gently before they are prepared to move on. And here they are treated unlike any being deserves. You don't think knowing her name is going to change that fact.

She tried to kill you, yes. But who wouldn’t in this situation? Clearly the woman is desperate or mad. Or both. “Does it matter? No one deserves to be treated that way.” But once you have said it out loud, somewhere begins to creep this feeling that something isn't adding up to the woman's words.

“My kind, sweet, innocent Petal.” He murmurs, his good eye shimmering with adoration and love. He meant it as a compliment, you are certain of that but by the way the words leave his lips and how he looks at you, you feel mocked and ridiculed.

He chuckles as you reveal your teeth snarling in anger. “Come now. I don't wish for us to fight. So I'll be honest about something. I can't drag souls with me to the Underworld. Everyone you see has come here by the design of the system. It has been this way since the last King.” So she earned It. That is his cryptic answer.

“Except you.” He adds, when you open your mouth to protest. “Daemon had to give me permission before I could take you.” He makes his voice soft and gentle as if trying to smooth your nerves. As if he's romanticizing your kidnapping already. “Not that it would have mattered. If he didn't give you to me, I would have taken you another way.” He chuckles and you want to hit him when he caresses your face, booping your nose.

He sighs, putting the bear back on the chair, turning his fleeting attention back to the room.

“The woman you defended, deserves her punishment. She ran an orphanage.” so she told you.

You make a scoffing noise. Of course, that would upset him. She stole souls from him. What a bastard. “What a great criminal genius.” The sarcasm is dripping from your words. “Imagine her punishment if she taught them how to read as well.” You say, with a eye roll.

Aemond does not respond, and he doesn't smack you against the table either. His hand keeps rubbing the belly of the teddy bear he held moments ago, lost in thought. “She killed them, Petal.” You freeze. You wanted to ask who. You aren't sure why. You know who they are. You know who killed them. She did. She killed orphans. Innocent defenseless children who had no one to look out for them. You could easily be one of them.

Aemond continues, his voice cold. “There were so many children's skulls, that I myself lost count. She would force them to do labor for her and if they died she chopped them into pieces, and put them into her pies. She gave the pies to starving people. Except the eyes. She kept the eyes and put them into her teddy bears.”

You feel as if smacked in your face.

You feel sick and horrified. You stare at the teddybears who all miss eyes. Those poor children. You don't have words for it. You are sick to your stomach. “She was worshipping you, wasn't she? That is why she kept their eyes.” You say, rubbing your stomach as it makes an unsettling noise. You remember some people who worship Rhaenyra leaving candles for her or shiny stones.

For Aemond, they likely leave eyes.

How horrible and twisted.

Aemond nods confirming your accusation. You expect him to laugh about it or make a joke. His voice sounds as if a nail hitting a casket. Repeatedly. He is furious. “....Yes. And that only makes my fury bigger. She deserves all the punishments I give her. Unlike what you were maybe taught, I don't enjoy senseless murder. I care a great deal about justice. Which is exactly why that woman should be locked up in the basement.”

You can hear some dark chuckle coming from his throat which sounds very sudden. Aemond's smile becomes a little broader and a little darker. You feel shivers run down your spine as he begins to approach you smirking. “But we haven't had time to discuss the most important question of all: What are you doing here, Petal?”

You know you got yourself almost killed. So does he. You can feel the fury radiating from him and the disappointment. He is upset you even tried to run. “I, what happened to the children?” You ask, trying to spin the conversation. “Did you save-” Your voice is cut off the moment Aemond calmly raises his hand silencing you.

He leans in closer, grabbing you tightly. You battle but don't last long. He is stronger. “Do not change the subject. You will answer me.” He whispers in your ear. When you don't answer, He grabs your arms, pinning you over the table and begins to kiss your neck. He moans against your throat.

“I am your Queen!” You cry out helplessly as he begins to kiss you again. You try to find it hateful and disgusting what he's doing with you. He needs to understand that while you enjoy his touch, you don't enjoy being treated as an object. You hope that reminding him of your title and position makes him see how terrible he is treating you.

But this time, his seemingly gentle and slightly terrifying side that seems to care so much about your wellbeing, is nowhere to be found. The monster is all that remains.

“My queen, my wife!” he bites out between the painful kisses. “You know what happens when Kings are displeased with their Queens? They'll get punished. And that just happens to be something I'm quite good at.” He whispers. You begin to silently cry regretting you even set a foot outside today. You pray to Rhaenyra wishing for her to come save you.

You cry, tugging the necklace desperate to break it. Aemond scoffs as you nearly choke yourself. “You should know that the necklace cannot be broken or destroyed. You made it part of your own body and soul when you touched my crown. Your own life is fueling the chain. You should also know that the bones chain you to me. You can't leave my side ever. Or you'll die.” He reveals. “And stop praying to her. She can't come down here. Not without my approval.” He grins, smirking as you continue to cry.

He kisses your salty cheeks, feeling the way you tremble and you can tell by the way his pupils grow that it only arouses him more. “No one is coming to save you. No one can save you. You are where you belong.” He lets out another much deeper moan as he begins to lick your neck, stealing hungry glances at your breasts.

You hold back a soft moan as Aemond kisses your lips, spreading your legs. You hear his laughs and his dark chuckles. You shove his arms away, angry and upset. “Why deny yourself pleasure, my darling? Don't you know I can hear every dirty thought echoing in your mind? How you want me to rip your dress open and for me to have my way with you?” You do and you do not. You have two people living inside of you, it seems. Your sensible experienced personality, who knows what Aemond does is wrong. And something primal, ancient and out of this world strange who just wants to let him do what he wants.

Aemond smiles as your inner battle continues. He tries to convince you once more. “It felt good, didn't it, Petal? You enjoyed feeling full. You enjoyed getting fucked and being stuffed. You enjoyed it all and you have the audacity to lie to me that you don't feel our bond.” It's true what he says. There is something between you two, something big and it's real. It's terrifying you. It makes you want to run far far away from.

He sees you tense up. He tries to lower your walls again. “I felt it too. The way how tight you wrapped around me. It was as if inserting a key in a very special, stubborn lock. There was no need for me to twist or to be rough. The chest just…opened.” he shudders at the delightful memory recalling how he fucked you sore and bloody in the garden.

You want to protest and argue. Fight and resist. But you can't. “You rise so quickly, my little Petal. Delicate and fast. That's good. I have needs and desires and I am sure to have needs for you.” You shiver as he runs a finger over the chain you wear, stimulating your spine. You wonder if he's going to touch you now. You are longing for it, you discover. Aching. Wanting. No.

Needing.

Aemond smirks, coming closer to your body. He leans in as if to kiss you, his lips inches from your own. He lifts your skirts, feeling you between your legs. “Such a shame, though, that I am punishing you.” He says before removing his fingers taunting you with a soft little pet almost a brushstroke. “I want you to understand that you are my Queen. But you are to be my wife too. The wife's duty in marriage is to provide for her husband's needs and his desires. It's to have his children one day.”

That little confession is enough to break the magical spell and to make you understand how terribly messed up your situation truly is. “What?” you whisper, horrified at his confession. “I didn't sign up for that!” You take a shaky breath. Aemond seems to be confused as he stares at you, his grip loosening. He stares at you but he isn't there. He stops kissing you. He caresses your face, muttering words but doesn't speak them.

“Petal…?” He mutters. You are terrified and confused. His silence and empty eyes betray that somehow you weren't talking to Aemond at all moments ago. You were talking to whatever possessed him. He can't seem to control it. You are aware of that. You are stuck with arguably the most powerful God of all, and he can’t seem to control his own darkness and powers. You are in great danger.

“Please let me go.” you whisper. “I can't make you happy. I can't make anyone happy. You'll be miserable around me.” You don’t even lie. You make for terrible company.

He only grabs you tighter, upset that you are even resisting him to begin with. “You are a stubborn little thing. In time, you see this is something good! You can't be stolen from me, my love. You'll be at my side, where you belong. You'll be my Queen and my love. The mother of-” You freeze at that last word. You never had a mother. You don't know how to be a mother. You don't want to be one. You can't be one.

You pick up the pan closeby your hand and smack Aemond across his face. The King is injured but heals instantly scowling in a way that reveals you didn't do much damage. You made things only much worse. “You mean your whore! You don't allow me any freedom! If I am a Queen, why am I treated as a prisoner? Why do you say you want to punish me and hurt me? Why do you-” You tear up, sobbing as he begins to kiss you, bearing your neck naked so he can kiss you properly and bite you painfully to punish you.

“Because I don't trust you yet.” He says.

You scoff. You know he is right. But it all sounds like he’s making excuses. “I've given you my all. My virginity, my pride.” He laughs, darkly as he throws his head back into his neck. He scoffs at your tears.

“You didn't give me anything. I took it from you. You were aroused and wanting but you also were afraid and insecure. So I had to take the first steps.” He pushes the crown on his head a bit further as you avoid his eye. He lifts your chin gently and wipes away your tears.

His glare becomes a playful sly glance as he begins to touch. “The first time is known to hurt. You did well. You obeyed and even joined in on the fun. I want to bet that once you see how I am, you and I will spend so many happy years together.” His mood swings confuse you. He also seems to really really believe that his personal happiness depends on you.

“What makes you say that?” You wonder why Aemond Thinks you are his one true love. You want to know what the liar told him and squeeze their eyeballs out.

He smiles, already forgotten how he pinned you down and bit you. “You're like me. A kindred spirit. We seek the limits. We break them and change them. That's how we are. We are unlimited and endless.” He makes you sound so powerful. So fearful. So …immortal.

You stare into his eye, caressing his face gently. You sit back up on the table. You lean in and as day and night circling each other your lips find his own. You burn yourself hissing as you stop the kiss. He brings his little finger to your burned lips, healing you with a single simple touch. He kisses you again and again as you slowly become infused with toxic wants and desires that you shouldn't have for him just yet.

Aemond was so keen on playing with your feelings earlier, denying you your pleasure. You will pay him back for that. You wait until Aemond has the increased and much darker pupils again, understanding all too well you mess with something you shouldn’t mess with. His grip is tighter and small burns appear soon on your wrists as he undresses you and himself, sloppily and full of groans. He spreads you, before slamming himself inside of you, grunting in your neck. You feel your own skin burn under his, and worry this could kill you. “This is where you belong. On your back, taking my seed and cock. You think you can escape but from the moment I laid eyes on you, you were meant to be mine.”

He begins to trust his hips, keeping eye contact with you as he thoroughly seems to feel every inch of you, trusting himself inside of you, painful and slow. He takes his time discovering you, watching your reactions closely as he begins to experiment on your body.

He goes for your breasts first, greedily sucking on your tits. Your arousal grows and your body likes it, but the pain that follows isn’t pleasant at all. When Aemond’s mouth leaves your tits, you notice small burns on your breasts. You are shocked.

“You hurt…” You mutter, trying to push him off you.

Aemond rolls his eye, quickly kissing you to get you quiet and pushes you back on the table, taking you deeper and rougher. “You'll be healed. I promise. I know you want this too, Petal. Your arousal has not gone unnoticed. And you do deserve a punishment for disobeying me.” He whispers when taking you. You try to be strong and stoic and cold. He is hurting and pleasuring you at the same time. Does he even realize that your skin can’t handle whatever is going on with his lips?

You wait until Aemond is distracted, slipping away for a moment, turning your back to his front. It doesn’t take long before you are back on the same table, his hands on your butt while you hear the loudest smack you ever heard and feel a stinging burning pain. You scowl. “What in the world?! Did you just hit me?!” You will kill that man.

He grins, shrugging. He doesn’t even seem to care. He takes the cheeks he spanked so painfully and begins to rub and feel your flesh. “I spanked you. That's a bit different. My intention isn't to cause you pain. It's to make you embrace your destiny.’ A lie, clearly. You can tell. You study his face, the way his eye is glued to your belly tells you he doesn’t want to talk about it. His pupil has become fully black, even the usual white part. Just one endless, black and terrifying eye staring at you. He grabs you by your hips, entering you from behind, grunting in your ear as he takes you. You pleasure builds as you try to find enjoyment in this. It isn’t difficult. He seems to know your body somehow better than you know it yourself. You just wish the burns wouldn’t hurt so much. “If only I could just stay inside of you forever. But I know you are hurting. The burns and bruises..” Aemond groans as you playfully twist his own nipple, giving him a taste of his own medicine. He grins, grabbing you by your hair and pulls you playfully closer, taking you again. ‘’That tickled.’’ You don’t doubt it for a moment. You aren’t weak and can pack quite the punch. Aemond just happens to be an immortal God. Pain works differently for him. He heals faster too. You saw it with the pan. There’s not even a scar. A human being would’ve been knocked out.

You like it so far. But you want more. You think of the best way to play him, to get what you want. You push his hands off you. Within seconds they are on the table, almost glued to the top. He bites your earlobe, feeling your parts as you feel pleasure burn through your skin, your veins and your very soul. ‘’Do not resist it. You won’t get far anyway. I know this place better than you do. You’ll only end up in troublesome situations.’’ He chuckles, the bastard. You are tempted to kick him for his little condensing note at the end but instead you fake a submissive little sigh and allow him to fuck you again. He stops, studying your face. ‘’You think you can outsmart me, don’t you, Petal? You think I don’t notice? I do, my little human Queen. You get to do all the messed up dark dirty things with me when we are in bed. I don’t mind an uncouth partner. I quite like being kept on my toes.’’ You mutter in your head that he yaps too much. Too much yapping, more fucking. Aemond as if reading your mind gives a rough, almost shattering trust to your core, causing you to cry out loudly for release. He holds you down, smirking. ‘’Just don’t be offended, if I pay you back for it. Yes?’’ He waits for you to answer but slams inside of you, bringing you to the edge and forcing you to fall. You are hit with many emotions of pain and bliss as you come as he takes you, crying out for mercy. He grabs you tight, and you hear him grunt your name as he finishes inside of you, bending your head down and giving you one last rough fucking. You pant, turning around and facing him, blood dripping down your face. Aemond tilts his head, studying your naked, bruised and slightly burned body. He brings his fingers to your forehead, scooping up blood that comes out of your forehead. You watch speechless as he licks it, tasting it. ‘’Mhm. Don’t get frightened. It’ll heal.’’ He says. You move, setting your feet down on the floor. The floor changes colour under your feet, and when you lift your head you are in a lavish bedroom.

The walls are gold with scarlet. Golden chandeliers shimmer on the ceiling, dangling peacefully. Diamonds and gemstones decorate the walls, together with paintings of animals. You are now sitting on a huge bed, suited for more than two people. You sink in the pillows, wearing a new appropriate red silk gown, definitely the most expensive thing your fingers have ever touched. You look around the room, closer. You notice a vanity with a hairbrush and a matching stool, a room where you can see one or two dresses hanging in, and when you look at the flowers on the golden gilded nightstand, you see there are no real flowers there. Just dark purple amethyst shaped into flowers. You are absolutely blown away. There were days you starved, days you stole and robbed to eat pathetic little crumbs. And now? You could buy a carriage with this. Or a horse. Or both.

Aemond stands before the bed, giving you a wink, clearly happy you like your new bedroom. You don’t want to like it. You feel as if you don’t deserve it. “Sleep well, love. I will be back. Try to not miss me so much.” You glare. He waves, chuckling before almost skipping out of the room, completely in his own world. You stare at the ceiling, and notice paintings of dragons and flowers. You close your eyes instead, trying to block out the wealth.

You lift your head, staring at the vanity. When you see your reflection looking back, you see that from your head, two small pale, claw-like things have come crawling outside of your neck, outside of your skin. Your bone necklace, the necklace Aemond told you was unbreakable, has grown into your skin. You don’t know what that means, as Aemond didn’t explain it to you. But it can’t be good.

Flames dance in the chandeliers as four people sit around one marble table. Queen Rhaenyra plays with her rings, unintentionally causing the room to be hidden in darkness from time to time. Her consort and husband, King Daemon sits next to her, his eyes always wandering to the door, afraid that Aemond shows up at this council.

His daughter, Baela catches his glance. ‘’You can stop looking. Aemond has better things to do than spy on us. He thinks he can’t be stopped anyway.’’ Daemon stops, embarrassed his own daughter had to point this out. Baela sighs, not even bothering to apologize. It’s been years, but she still remembers what Aemond did. And what he took from her.

Rhaenyra speaks. ‘’Does anyone have any idea to stop Aemond?’’

Jace, god of Charm and Rhaenyra’s heir, speaks up.

‘’We can kill her.’’ He suggests. A stupid plan. It would not make a difference. It would only make Aemond angry and vengeful. It won’t strip him of his powers. And that is what needs to happen.

The Goddess of Momento laughs, scoffing at his naive little plots and plans. She always is reminded of Jace’s godhood being mere…well, social. Not very mental. Hers, on the other hand… ‘’Yes, because that went so well the last time.’’ Her twin sister, Baela rings out dryly. Baela plays with an orange that switches between the stages of rot and freshness, as her clear time magic is being put to use. ‘’I haven’t forgotten what happened to Lucerys because of Aemond. He’s the reason I am without a husband, and Rhaenyra with one son.’’

The Queen of Realms and light, bows her head in gratitude, thanking Rhaena for the defense. Jacaerys scoffs, insulted that his rule is undermined. He finds it stupid that the two dragon girls are even invited here, at this council. The last time they were involved, they caused Aemond to kill Lucerys. It is their fault. Aemond threw the blade, but they armed him. They are guilty, same as him.

Rhaenyra hisses as the crown briefly slips from her head, falling on the table. She quickly puts it back on her head, casting a magic spell to see if she can track the girl’s thoughts. But nothing appears. Silence. Deadly silence. ‘’It’s going faster than I thought. I can’t track her anymore.’’ She announces.

The three others glance at each other, uneasily. Is she already killed? ‘’What did he do?’’ Rhaena wonders out loud, not questioning anyone. Dark magic has always fascinated her.

Queen Rhaenyra throws her hands on the table, frustration getting the better of her as the chandelier dangles dangerously, the light in them flickering. ‘’Likely something! I don’t know. I don’t know dark magic. My father intended for my son to follow the path of death, my boy, my sweet boy who was the good itself. Not this, dark individual corrupted by power!’’ Daemon tries to comfort her, but she only pushes him away. Daemon still is blamed for her son’s death. No matter how much he tries to redeem himself. She will never forgive him.

Rhaena brings the attention back to her. ‘’I’ve seen some things. The girl isn’t happy that Aemond kidnapped her. If we can get to her, we can destroy him. Using his own love against him.’’ A wild plan. A foolish plan. A genius plan.

‘’You think this girl will betray Aemond?’’ Jace asks, scoffing. He finds it a dumb plan.

But Rhaena is very sure of her case. She spent time watching Aemond, yes. She knows him well. But she spent more time watching this girl. Aemond wasn’t the only one who knew of her existence. Rhaena knows her better than he ever could. ‘’I think this girl is more keen on surviving than anything. We don’t have to keep her alive, of course.’’ Her eyes briefly go to Rhaenyra, who nods. She folds her hands on her lap.

The Queen nods. ‘’It’s for the best that after Aemond is defeated and the crown is back where it belongs, that we murder the girl. She has seen too much. It would be a mercy to grant her a quick death after enduring Aemond’s torture.’’

‘’Agreed.’’ Jace mutters. ‘’I can get into the Underworld. I don’t need much, just one conversation and I’m sure with Rhaena’s help I can convince her to turn on Aemond.’’

Daemon, who hadn’t been listening at all to what anyone was saying, looked up at long last. ‘’How do you plan on getting into the Underworld, exactly? You think Aemond is going to roll out the carpet for you and make you his best man?’’

Jace smirks, enjoying the way everyone listens to what he has to say. ‘’I am quite charming, when I want to be. But my in isn’t at Aemond’s mercy. It’s at his girl’s. Once she’ll know how to summon me, she’ll do so, and tada, out of the upper world, into the hellfire.’’

Daemon remains unconvinced. Jace will get himself killed. ‘’How will Aemond not kill you when he sees you around his girl?’’ Aemond is known to be protective and violent around men who mess with his girls in the past.

His laugh is starting to annoy Daemon, so Jace quickly stops it. ‘’I don’t know this girl, but I assume she wouldn’t like it if Aemond showed his true, murdery side to her. I think he’ll behave and lie to get her approval.’’

Rhaenyra shakes her head. They need someone Aemond would trust blindly, and give his life for. Someone who can make him open the portal, someone who would now come back into his life, with his wedding and his newfound love. Someone who can awaken that cold dead heart of his. Someone like…Rhaenyra slams with her hands on the table, smirking. ‘’It is too risky. We must appeal to her. We must turn to the Goddess of Justice. The Queen of Right and Wrong.’’

Baela shakes her head, disliking where this is going. ‘’You can’t mean…?’’

Rhaenyra nods. ‘’But I do.’’ Her eyes are burning with determination. ‘’We must ask Alicent Hightower for help.’’ The Goddess of Justice, the Goddess of right......

and Aemond's own blood.

His mother.

A/N

Such a chonker chapter holy cheeseballs.

I hope you all enjoy this chapter.

I love you

God Aemond loves you too (he boops your nose haha)

224 notes · View notes

buddierecs · 3 months ago

Text

soulmates buddie fic

this list has different rated fics, so please look at the rating make sure to kudos/comment on these amazing works :)

your fingerprints smeared on my heart (lead me back to you) by: letmetellyouaboutmyfeels "in 1880, evan buckley of the arriviste set is sent out west to oversee his family's railroad and recover from a broken heart - and meets eddie diaz, cowboy. when fate tears them apart, they make a promise: find each other again. In 2018, buck walks into his fire station in los angeles - and meets eddie diaz, new recruit." word count: 88k rating: explicit important tags: reincarnation, gilded age, cowboys, timelines, heavy angst objects in the mirror by: sevensoulmates 'the voice had always been around, eddie remembers it, like a stream of consciousness that babbled incoherently to the point where eddie just tuned it out. but then the voice started speaking directly to him..." word count: 139k rating: explicit important tags: telepathic bond, pre-canon, slow burn, eventual smut, angst freezing from the inside out by: 7ate9 "a soulmate was a definitive thing. and a freezing soul only meant one thing: your soulmate doesn’t want you. and without their love, without their acceptance, you’ll die. at first, buck didn’t realize why he was so cold. but it was true; because of this dumb lawsuit, eddie rejected him. buck would die. buck was dying. he was nothing to anyone. he’d fade away, freezing from the inside out, ice in his veins, in his soul. and no one would even care." word count: 16k rating: teen and up important tags: grief/mourning, post-lawsuit (s3), angst, hurt!evan buckley, emotional hurt/comfort, abandonment bark like you want it by: colonoscopys "the first time eddie diaz hears his soulmate’s voice, he hears him say damn, that’s a nice ass." word count: 7k rating: general audience important tags: crack treated seriously, different first meeting, buddie are captains stitch my soul by: r_holland "eddie diaz has never really put much stock into the concept of "fate". but after his marriage falls apart, he swears that he's not going to go against the universe again. he's going to find his soulmate. he's going to find evan. but then he meets buck, and all of his careful plans start coming apart at the seams." word count: 30k rating: mature important tags: idiots in love, miscommunication, getting together, pining say you were made to be mine by: elvensorceress "it's valentine's day 2018, and eddie saves a man from choking to death in the middle of a restaurant. it's only after the man is rushed away by paramedics that eddie realizes his hands are green. the man he saved is his soulmate. and he doesn't even know his name let alone how to find him." word count: 11k rating: teen and up important tags: different first meeting au, soulmate-identifying marks, mutual pining catch your breath by: dlanadhz "buck has been a firefighter long enough to know what it means when someone is throwing up flower petals. it means heartache and physical pain. it means almost certain death. he knows, of course. he just never thought it would happen to him." word count: 21k rating: teen and up important tags: hanahaki disease, supernatural illnesses, pining, angst, hurt!evan buckley fate, the universe, and something else by: writesmart "eddie's soulmate won't stop getting hurt and leaving marks across his body. buck's terrified of meeting his soulmate and seeing disappointment in their eyes. the two are love struck idiots who revolve around each other until they finally collide." word count: 13k rating: teen and up important tags: soulmate identifying marks, angst, self-worth issues, hurt/comfort in cicatrices amor by: annide "from the moment you are born, your existence is linked to your soulmate’s. every time you get a cut, a scrape, a bruise, it appears on their body, fading away after a few minutes. scars are shared forever, a lasting mark linking two people together. buck and eddie are soulmates, but are they ready for what it means?" word count: 26k rating: teen and up important tags: slow burn, mutual pining, hurt/comfort

#stupid word count #so will do a pt 2 eventually #buddie fic #buck x eddie fic #buck x eddie #buddie fics #buddie fic rec #evan buckley #eddie diaz #911 fandom #911 show #911 abc #evan buck buckley #buddie recommendations #buddie recs #buck x eddie fanfics

164 notes · View notes

earlgreyinpajamas · 2 years ago

Text

merthur fic recs masterlist

last updated: 21 Sept 2024

authors

vintagelilacs

aus and fusions

arranged marriage au, pt 2, pt 3

college/university au

different first meeting au

hanahaki au, pt 2, pt 3

high school au, pt 2

hogwarts au

modern au, pt 2

modern with magic au, pt 2

modern royalty au, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4, pt 5, pt 6, pt 7, pt 8

pride and prejudice au

regency au

social media au, pt 2

soulmate au, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4, pt 5, pt 6, pt 7, pt 8, pt 9, pt 10

s2e10 fix it

wing fic

arthur

actor!arthur, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4, pt 5

bond girl!arthur

detective!arthur

himbo!arthur

jealous!arthur, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4, pt 5, pt 6, pt 7, pt 8

pining!arthur, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4, pt 5, pt 6, pt 7, pt 8, pt 9

pregnant!arthur

protective!arthur, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4, pt 5, pt 6, pt 7

oblivious!arthur, pt 2, pt 3

spy!arthur

virgin!arthur

merlin

assistant!merlin

bamf!merlin

consort!merlin, pt 2, pt 3

detective!merlin

druid leader!merlin

enchanted!merlin

exhausted!merlin, pt 2

flustered!merlin

hurt!merlin, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4

irish!merlin

jealous!merlin

knight!merlin

oblivious!merlin, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4, pt 5, pt 6

pining!merlin, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4, pt 5

royal!merlin, pt 2

selkie!merlin

spy!merlin

virgin!merlin

other tropes and categories

00q fusion

5 + 1 things, pt 2, pt 3

accidental marriage

amnesia

angst with a happy ending

arthur courts merlin

arthur finds out about balinor

arthur finds out about freya

arthur knows about merlin’s magic

arthur loves merlin’s magic eyes

arthur’s donkey ears

arthur returns, pt 2

balinor lives

bathing

bed sharing, pt 2

bedside vigils

bets

comfort fics

coming out

crack, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4

dragon dads

drunkenness

enemies to lovers

fake/pretend relationship, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4, pt 5

fandom iconic fics

fav aus

fav fics

figure skating

flowers, pt 2

fluff

forced proximity, pt 2

fuck or die

getting back together

getting together, pt 2, pt 3

getting together with the help of technology

hurt comfort

hurt no comfort, pt 2

hypothermia

kid fics, pt 2

kinktober

love spells and potions, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4

lovers to enemies

magical exhaustion

magic reveal, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4, pt 5, pt 6, pt 7, pt 8, pt 9, pt 10

married/engaged merthur

meddling knights, pt 2, pt 3

merlin dies

merlin goes insane to get arthur back

merlin knows about arthur’s pining

merlin leaves camelot

merlin sleeping in weird places

merlin teaches arthur about sex/kissing

morgana and merlin friendship

not actually unrequited love

ot4

outsider pov

parties

protective!knights

remixes

role reversal

royal balls

scar reveal

secret relationship, pt 2

theatre/drama

time travel

truth potion

underappreciated fics

weddings

wedding stopping

wound cleaning

#merthur #merthur fanfic #merthur fic #merthur fanfiction #merthur fluff #merthur fic rec #merlin emrys #merlin #merlin bbc #bbc merlin #merthur fic recs #pining!Merlin #pining arthur #merlin x arthur #arthur x merlin #Arthur Pendragon

1K notes · View notes

hihhasotherfixations · 2 years ago

Text

Tattoo Blossom - Price x Reader | Part 1

AU where your soulmate’s injuries appear on your skin like a blooming flower tattoo.

Part 1 | Part 2

Thank you @flop101 for helping me come up with the idea for this soulmate au!

CW: None. Reader has no gender specified. Slight talk of injury.

Word Count: 6087

It always started with a sudden pressure.

Sitting at work, you groaned softly as you lifted your hand, pressing it on your left sternum to alleviate the pain.

“Y/N, you alright?” Your coworker asked as they leaned over and you sent them a smile you didn’t really mean.

“Just fine, don’t worry. I’m… just gonna head to the restroom.” With that, you stood up from your chair and hurriedly walked across the office, towards the toilets.

Once inside, you made a beeline for the mirrors, unbuttoning your shirt slightly before pulling the fabric away from your sternum.

Right there, perfectly above the bone, sat a small black and white bud. It was small and tear drop-shaped, just like every flower started out as. It made it impossible to tell what type of flower it was yet.

Sighing softly, you thumbed over the imprint on your skin, a worry line present in the creasing of your brow.

“What did you do this time…” Muttering it softly, your eyes glazed over as you looked at the small tattoo.

Somewhere in the world, your soulmate had gotten hurt again. And while you had a beautiful, black outlined flower bud, he most likely had a gaping wound.

Closing your eyes, you let your shirt fall back into place. You just hoped the flower would bloom soon. After all, the bud becoming a flower signified his healing - his wound becoming a scar. And you’d be glad once it was in full bloom, meaning he was fully healed. And you’d also be able to see what you’d add to the collection.

After all, not every flower was the same kind.

From the myriad of them that littered your body, each one seemed to correspond to a specific sort of injury.

You’d read somewhere once that that’s where flowers got their meanings from. The reason for an injury.

You’d figured out some. How could you not?The petals covered you from chest to toe - thankfully avoiding your face for now - so of course you’d get curious.

They sprouted all over your body, some small, some larger. There was even a row of them on your forearm.

While most flowers were different however, there were those that repeated. And the most frequent were the Tansy’s.

You’d looked it up once. Tansy’s were flowers that signified hostile thoughts and the declaring of war.

Whatever else you held on your body, at least these flowers gave an answer. Whoever your soulmate was, wherever he was, he was at war.

And he’d been so for the past 19 years.

- - - - -

John Price often forgot he had a soulmate.

Only about 20% of the population did and with his busy life, thinking about that little flower on the back of his right ankle was far from the forefront of his mind.

It was easier to forget. Not only to hide his heartache but also to hide his guilt.

After all, what use was a soulmate if all they did was paint your skin against your will. Filling in your body with marks and filling up your mind with worry over what your soulmate did to get wounded so much.

So instead, John chose to forget. To leave the guilt and want out and instead focus on the missions in front of him. None of the boys in the task force knew, not even Nikolai knew. Laswell had only found out several years ago when he’d joined her and her wife for a camping trip.

Purely by accident too.

The three of them had been hiking when John’s boot slipped in a mud puddle, causing his ankle to make a very dangerous move to the side. Cursing and hissing, he’d limped over to a dry patch and taken off his boot, yanking his sock down to inspect his ankle, only to be stared in the face with the flower he’d done so well to forget until then. Right in Laswell’s sight.

The rest of that trip had soured explicitly for the SAS captain, constantly hounded with questions by Laswell’s wife - who seemed rather enthused - while the woman herself berated him every step of the way.

Now however, he was back in England, having just returned from killing Hassan and stopping a missile.

Sitting on a chair, he was struggling with putting on his boot, hissing with every move of his left arm that caused the gunshot by his sternum to scream in pain.

“Y’alright, cap?” Soap’s voice piped up as he leaned back on the couch, looking at the man while Ghost pushed the Scot’s legs off of himself in irritation (it was a dangerous game Johnny was playing.)

“Need some help?” Gaz now asked, standing in the doorway and Price looked up, glaring at the two men. Though he knew it came from a place of concern, it highly wounded his pride.

“And have either of you blokes tie my shoe like I’m some kid?” He scoffed, not gracing them with another look as he focused on the blasted boot again.

“There’s many more reasons to tie someone’s shoe.” Gaz protested, displeased by his captain’s stubbornness.

“Like what?”

“Like when your missus does it for you!” Soap piped up with a wide grin, getting a glare from Gaz for having his point interrupted, though Price just deadpanned.

“So a mother and a missus can tie a shoe and I have neither, how nice.” He rumbled back, slamming his foot down now to try and get his heel down into it, properly annoyed.

“Ah, that’s-“ Before Soap could continue to horribly try and rectify what he brought into the world, Ghost smacked him on the back of his head.

“Shut up, Johnny.”

“What I was trying to say.” Gaz stepped in before it could turn into a fight. “None of us will think any different of you if you ask for help every once in a while. Especially when you’re injured.” The sergeant tried but right then, Price managed to get the boot on, quickly tying it as best as he could with his limited movement.

“Well, I got it. So thanks a lot, lads, but no need.” The man hummed as he got up, grunting a bit as he accidentally strained the muscles of his shoulder. “Let’s get going, I need that drink.”

- - - -

“I’m really not feeling up for this.” You sighed softly, holding your shirt up to your chest.

For the past ten or so minutes, you’d been staring at yourself in the mirror, your eyes grazing over every flower that littered your body.

The large snapdragon in your side, the holly’s in your right thigh and abdomen, the hyssops marking three places on your torso, the anemone in the middle of your chest, the chain of several lily’s below your elbow. Not even to mention the tansy’s that sprouted everywhere. Your legs, your thighs, your shoulders, your arms.

And now the beginning bloom of a new flower above your sternum. All you could think about was how your soulmate had been injured again.

And how you feared the day that the flowers would wilt.

To you, the tattoos on your skin were a blessing and a curse. You didn’t mind them. It showed you had someone out there who was perfect for you - a missing puzzle piece you could slot together with. Not everyone got that privilege.

But who was to say you’d ever meet them? And while every flower that showed up was beautiful, it signalled your soulmate being hurt. And given you were almost entirely sure he was in the army, it meant those injuries were usually bad. You almost didn’t dare to count the amount of gunshot wounds, signified on your body as a singular small flower - so long as it didn’t have an exit point.

“Y/N, come on!” It was your friend pounding her fist on your bedroom door that made you snap out of your reverie. “You’ve been stuck at work for too long. You need a night out.”

Rolling your eyes, you pulled the red shirt you’d been holding over your head. It had sleeves reaching until halfway down your forearm, hiding almost all the flowers on your torso save for a single lily on your left arm. About two third’s of it showed while the rest of the chain was hidden. That was one of the largest patches of flowers and you’d long since given up trying to hide it.

Throwing on some jeans to match, you then swung the door open before Sarah could bash her fist into it again - which was an accurate thought as she stood there with her arm raised, ready to raise hell.

“Oh!” She startled before looking you over and groaning. “Again?” She whined, picking at your sleeve and letting it snap back against your arm.

“Ow, hey.” You chuckled, slapping her hand away before crossing your arms. “I’m not gonna flaunt myself in front of an entire bar. Leave me alone.” Shaking your head in amusement, you walked past her, making her fall into step behind you.

“You’re in your thirties and yet still you’re saving yourself like a nun. For a soldier? Didn’t he just give you a new one yesterday?” She whined and you sent an unimpressed look back over your shoulder, raising a brow.

“Ah yes, because he was given a gunshot wound as well.”

“There!” Sarah pointed at you as if to say ‘aha’. “You immediately know it’s a gunshot wound. Like how bad is that?”

“Just as bad as this miniskirt.” You grinned, poking her hip.

Gasping a little, she jumped away. “My skirt is not bad! I can wear what I want!” She protested and you gave her a smug look.

“Exactly.” After that however, you calmed a bit and grabbed her hand, running your thumb over it. “I don’t think it right to display someone else’s injuries. It’s a private thing, something he probably doesn’t want to talk about.”

“You’re too good for whoever this guy is.”

Laughing at Sarah’s pout, you swung your arm around her shoulders. “Let’s go get that drink then, hm? Get your mind off of me and my depressing ‘love’ life.”

Crossing her arms, she let you drag her away to the door, never letting up on her pout. “Fine.”

With that, the two of you headed out and towards the nearest pub, laughing and joking as you walked - after all, driving was out of the option for what you were planning for the evening.

- - - -

It was a lot busier in the bar than you’d expected.

Some type of football game was on and people had come out en masse to celebrate together, which left the large room stuffed relatively full with people.

Stumbling over to the bar with your best friend, you by some miracle managed to snatch two spots.

Sitting up on the high chairs, you both ordered a drink before settling into comfortable conversation.

“See anyone you fancy?”

Sarah’s sudden question had you spluttering into your glass before you glared at her. “Really?”

Blinking innocently, she just smiled at you and you playfully rolled your eyes. “I see someone you might fancy.” At that, she frowned and you nodded your head to something behind her.

Getting the hint, she turned around to see a man looking at her. Right as she crossed eyes though, he quickly looked away and she turned back to face you with a slight blush. “Alright so maybe you know my type.”

“Heads up.” You smirked as you watched him get up, goaded on by his friends and Sarah widened her eyes before quickly fixing her hair.

“I look okay?”

“You look great.” You chuckled, bumping your knee into her before turning to face the wood of the bar top right as Sarah turned around to greet the man.

Though you came here to have some fun together, you knew Sarah was a huge flirt. You also didn’t mind, perfectly content to enjoy a drink with your thoughts and people watching.

So, leaving her to her devices, you just politely tuned out the conversation on your right while smiling to yourself. Maybe this time, the man was a keeper.

“Excuse me?”

A good twenty minutes passed before the sudden words made you blink out of your thoughts, looking left to see a man about your age looking at you, a polite look on his face.

“Mind if I scoot in?” He asked kindly and you looked around, realising the entire bartop was filled with people.

“No, of course.” Smiling back at him, you scooted your chair right to make some room for him, which he quickly took as he stepped up and flagged down a bartender.

He had a pleasant look to him; head hidden under a black beanie, a weathered but kind face and muttonchops that fit him strangely well.

Thinking not much of it, you rolled your glass between your hands a bit, turning your brain off as you watched the bartender make… what was it- four drinks for the man?

Your gaze drifted a bit back and forth after that, until suddenly, a crash sounded to your left and a cold sensation splashed onto your arm.

“Oh-!” Yipping that out in surprise, you looked wide eyed to see the man frown down at the small tray he was trying to balance with one hand, one of the drinks fallen over and the contents dripping onto your arm.

“Ah, I’m sorry.” The man sent you an apologetic look as he quickly set the tray back on the bartop, to which you quickly waved him away.

“It just caught my sleeve, it’s okay!” You smiled, looking down at your arm to see the wet stain in the fabric. “I’ll just-“

“Here, let me.” He reached over the bar to his left - strangely enough using his right hand for it - and pressed some tissues to your soaked forearm.

“Ah, thank you.” You hummed, seeing him give you a tiny smile before his attention was taken by the bartender who placed a new glass in front of him which he paid for.

Quickly thanking the bartender, the man then briefly put his hand on your arm. “So sorry again. Have a good evening.” With a polite nod, he pulled away and slid the tray from the bar top into his hand - more careful this time - before he balanced it and made his way deeper into the pub.

Not thinking anything of it, you reached forward to nurse your own glass once more when a heat suddenly spread across your arm.

Frowning, you looked down. Was that drink he spilled hot? No, you distinctly felt it being cold just now.

Reaching down, you pinched your sleeve between your fingers, feeling how damp it was, yet all of a sudden, your heart seemed to stop as your eyes focused on what was going on on your skin behind your fingers.

There, on your arm, blossoming with heat, sat your lily. Your orange lily.

Breathing shallowly, you mindlessly reached back, slapping in the general direction of your best friend, managing to whack her on the back as she was still chatting up the man.

“Y/N, what-“ Her annoyed hiss was cut off when she saw you staring, wide eyed and almost panicked at your arm, where your flower was now nearly a bright orange - the colour almost completely faded in. “I- Oh my god!”

Loudly crying that out, the bar seemed to stop for a second as those around turned in concern, only for your friend to jump up from her stool and drag you down with it to hug you, jumping and laughing excitedly, putting the people back at ease as they continued their conversations.

“Please, keep your voice down!” You panicked but she seemed nonplussed as she pulled back and kept you at an arms length.

“Who is it! Who touched you? Y/N, your soulmate is here!” Her babbling didn’t stop as she pulled you closer and shook you by your shoulders before frantically looking around. “You do know who touched you, right?”

At that, you stopped briefly, your heart hammering as you turned around to look behind yourself, searching the crowd for the strange man with the black beanie and muttonchops.

It took a bit, but you eventually found him, tucked away nearly completely in the corner of the pub where he sat with his comrades, his back turned to where you were seated.

“Which one?” Your friend asked, trying to follow your line of sight and you bit your lip.

“Table of four. With the- with the hat.” You mumbled and she squinted, trying to find who you meant.

“I see no hat.”

“Black beanie.” You clarified and she squinted again, only to start slapping your arm.

“I see him, I see him!” She giggled before taking a closer look, humming in what seemed like approval. “He seems buff. Which makes sense if he’s in the military I guess, but look at those shoulders.”

Turning around, almost incredulous, you slapped her on the arm. “Would you stop ogling him!”

“You’re too much of a prude to do that, so I’m doing it for you.” She shrugged with a mischievous grin and you poked her side.

“Stop it.”

Giggling, she then slowly calmed down, her smile turning warm. Carefully, she moved to stand behind you, beginning to push you forward. “Go talk to him.” Her voice was soft in your ear and you felt your heart speed up.

“B-But-“

“If you don’t do it now, he might be gone.”

Just those words were enough to stop your struggling.

“It’s gonna be okay.” Sarah smiled as she softly whispered that and you breathed out a shaky breath.

“I just…”

“I know.” She hummed comfortingly, turning you around to face her before cupping your face. “He’s your soulmate. That means he is the one for you, Y/N. No matter what, he’ll listen. I’m sure he will.”

“You are?” You asked, your eyes going a little foggy and Sarah smiled fondly, rubbing her thumb over the corner of your eye.

“He’s yours. I know what you’re like and the universe picked him out for you. He’ll listen.”

Nodding softly, you leaned forward and hugged your best friend, composing yourself before pulling back and huffing out a breath, feigning more confidence than you had.

“I can finally say: go get ‘em, tiger.” Sarah spoke from behind with a squeeze to your arm.

At that, a soft and pleasant laugh left you and you playfully punched her shoulder. “All this time and that is the best you can come up with?”

Rolling her eyes with a grin, she then twirled you around and pushed you forward, making you send a playful glare back at her to which she stuck out her tongue.

After that though, you looked forward, seeing him at the far back of the pub and your heart slowly started speeding up, realising that this was finally gonna be the moment.

Slowly, you began walking, weaving through the tables and other patrons of the pub until it was a straight shot to his table.

Walking up to him from behind, you could feel your heartbeat rushing in your ears, your nerves alight and almost painful as they battered in your chest and stomach.

Swallowing softly, you were hugging yourself, unconsciously covering up the now coloured flower as with each step closer, it almost felt like you were getting tunnel vision - purely focused on the back of his beanie-covered head.

It was said that the universe found a way to bring two soulmates into contact, but was this really it? Was this it or were you imagining things. Were you mistaken?

Though he might not have noticed your approach, the men he was sitting at the table with sure did.

One of them - a hulking figure wearing a balaclava - glanced up, locking eyes with you which snapped you out of your tunnel vision. He quickly glanced at your soulmate and back at you, some sort of unspoken signal as, before you knew it, the man with the beanie turned around, facing you.

It looked a little stiff as he did and you caught a glimpse of bandaging under his loose hanging shirt. On the left side, where your flower bud sat too.

His eyes locked with yours and with horror, you realised you had to speak. In his eyes, you’d just stalked up behind him and were now just standing there like a limp chair.

“Uhm, excuse me…” You started softly, feeling your heart thud at the lame start though you could see him smile politely. One that you would give to strangers when humouring them, which is exactly what you were.

“How can I help you, love? Is it the drink?” He spoke and you clenched your hands as you hugged yourself tighter, hearing his voice gravelly and deep yet sounding so soft at the same time.

“Uh, no… it-“ You started as you shook your head. Just then, you were bumped into from behind.

Stumbling a bit, you caught yourself and looked back, realising how full the pub was, how his friends all had their eyes on you, and you suddenly knew this was no place to drop the bomb of being soulmates.

“Could I… talk to you for a moment? Outside?” You asked, uncrossing your left arm and pointing behind yourself at the door, nervousness apparent in every fiber of your being.

It must have been evident to him too, seeing how skittish you were, yet you could still see an awkward frown briefly paint his face, seeming not very thrilled with that idea as you could already see the rejection on the tip of his tongue. “I’m sorry but I came here with these boys and I can’t really-“

“Please, it’s important.” You begged, sinking a bit through your knees in your desperation.

Narrowing his eyes, your soulmate looked back at the men who sat with him at the table, who all seemed either confused or distrusting of you. He then looked back at you and you could see an intelligence shining in him as he took you and the past two minutes in. “And it has to be me?” He asked, pointing at himself to which you fervently nodded.

“I just- I need to say a thing. But it has to be in private- but you can go back here as soon as you want to!” You blabbered and his features softened a bit.

“You’re not selling me on this very well.” He chuckled before scratching the side of his beard. “Look, I’m not looking for any… Y’know.” He awkwardly got out and you felt the blood drain from your face.

“No, no! It’s not like that, I promise!”

Sitting back a bit, he seemed to take you and your frantic response in for a second before sighing and nodding. “Alright.” With that, he pushed himself up from his chair, turning back to his table.

“Don’t take too long, cap. This drink ain’t gonna last much further and I’d like another.” A man with a Scottish accent to his left spoke with a grin.

‘Cap’ as you got from the Scot, rolled his eyes and pointedly shoved his own glass towards the man with the balaclava. “Touch my scotch and I’ll have your head, MacTavish. And buy your own drink for once.” With that, he pointedly turned around and faced you, motioning for you to lead the way. “Go on.”

Licking your teeth nervously, you nodded and turned around, weaving between the plethora of people and walking over towards the exit of the bar, stepping out into the night sky.

Goosebumps raised on your skin as you heard him step out beside you.

“Mind if I smoke?” He asked and you turned back, only managing to shake your head, to which he hummed as he pulled up a cigar and planted it between his lips, proceeding to grab a lighter from his pocket and lighting it. Yet you took note of how he pointedly only used his right arm. “What was it you needed?”

Turning to him, you stared into his eyes while he looked back, curiosity and wariness both evident while his face lit up with the soft glow from his cigar.

“Uhm… you touched me.”

At that, he coughed slightly, taking the smoke out of his mouth as he looked at you. “I’m sorry?”

“I-“ Too scared to say anything else, you just lifted your hand away from your arm, ceasing your self-hug for the first time since he noticed you. Carefully, you held it out to him, using the street light across the way to show the newfound colours.

Looking from your arm up at him, you saw he was looking down at the flowers. The orange lily blooming halfway up your forearm, still partially hidden by your sleeve.

His face was void of any expression, staying blank as he moved his cigar to his left hand before he slowly reached out with his right, grabbing hold of your forearm to inspect it, his thumb ever so lightly brushing over the tattoo before he glanced up at you.

His expression was still unreadable and you panicked despite Sarah’s reassurances. You didn’t want to be one of the sob stories where you found your soulmate but got rejected or not believed. “Y-You’re injured. Here, right?” You mumbled quickly, pulling down the neckline of your shirt a bit to show the slightly blooming bud above your sternum.

At that, the man seemed to snap out of whatever state he was in as realisation seemed to dawn on him.

His eyes widened as he let go of you, to which you panicked even more, raising your shirt over your stomach to reveal the snapdragon in your side - the other biggest patch of flowers you had. “Here, I have more, see?”

“Hey.” Speaking up, he quickly reached forward and pulled your hands away, tugging your shirt back down. “Hey, it’s okay. Just slow down for me, yeah?” He reassured, a calm and firm tone that had you taking the first proper breath of air in ten minutes.

“I’m sorry-“ You huffed out and his eyes crinkled softly as he briefly rubbed the side of your arm before stepping back.

“This is…” Cutting himself off, he seemed to shake any shock away, instead focusing back on your eyes. “Bloody hell.”

He just stared at you for a moment, taking a deep breath before he cleared his throat.

“Let’s start over, shall we?” He mused, sticking out his right hand. “My name’s John Price.”

Smiling a smile of relief, you put your hand in his. “Y/N L/N.” You introduced back and his smile grew a bit under his beard.

“Sorry for spilling my drink on you. And for the cold opening earlier.” He apologised as he let go but you quickly waved his statement away.

“Don’t worry about it! A stranger walks up to you and practically forces you outside with them? I’d freak.” You chuckled, rubbing your arm a bit awkwardly.

“You didn’t force me, don’t worry.” John reassured, only now seeming to remember he had a cigar as he took it from his incapacitated hand.

The movement caught your eye however and you frowned. “Does it hurt?” Your voice was soft as you asked him but he still heard.

Looking from where you were watching, down to his sternum, he hummed a bit. “Like a bitch, but nothing I haven’t been through before. Don’t worry.”

At that, you smiled a little sorrowful smile, whispering softly. “I know.”

Your words - just those two dreadful words - made John’s eyes widen as he glanced down at your arm again, a remorseful and almost pained look overtaking him.

Putting out his cigar, he gingerly moved his hand to your left arm before glancing up at you. “May I?”

You nodded and he took hold of your forearm, his left hand moving for the first time as he ever so carefully slid your sleeve up and past your elbow, revealing the entire string of lilies that stretched from the middle of your forearm, around and to below your elbow.

One lily now partially coloured orange.

“I’m so sorry for this.”

His apology took you by surprise and you looked up at his face, seeing his eyes purely focused on your arm. Slowly, you felt the slightest brush of a touch, followed immediately by a warmth crawling under your skin.

Glancing down, you saw his thumb gently moving back and forth over the partially coloured lily, specifically the part that was still just an outline.

It took a minute for it to react, the heat only growing under your skin the longer he held his thumb there and together, you watched in awe as slowly, the rest of the lily filled with colour, fading into existence on your skin.

Just then, his apology from before filled your mind and you spoke up, still keeping your eyes on where he was holding your arm. Seemingly too reserved to continue to fill the other lilies with colour.

“Why are you sorry?” You asked and he answered almost instantly - too fast.

“I fucked your body up for you.” He spoke, letting go of your arm as he cleared his throat. The harsh reality of his own conviction breaking the trance the coloured flower had put him in. “Because of me, you’re walking around with this.” He spoke, turning your arm a bit to show you yet you countered quick.

“So are you.” You spoke but he let out a wry chuckle at that, shaking his head.

“I chose to do what I do. My scars should be my burden to bear, not yours.” He sighed, an emotion swirling in his eyes that you couldn’t discern. He looked into yours like that for a second longer, almost as if to find something within you before he gave up and cast his eyes down. “I pay the price for my mistakes and I’ve accepted it. But I really wish I didn’t get a soulmate because of it. You don’t deserve this, love.”

“You don’t want a soulmate?” You asked softly, your eyebrows scrunching in worry and John quickly straightened himself.

“That’s not what I said.” He hushed you, holding up his hand. “Hell, I never thought love was in the cards for me until I saw that I was one of the few to get flowers.” Confessing that, he rubbed the back of his head, accidentally displacing his beanie a bit - which he took a second to fix.

“You have a flower?” You whispered softly, a strangely hopeful look in your eyes that made John’s heart beat just a bit faster.

“On my ankle.” He hummed, bringing his right foot just a little bit forward. Entranced, you brought your own forward as well, turning it around to show your bare ankle visible above your loafers. There, right above the heel sat the scar that ran from one end of your ankle to the other.

“I forgot I had that.” You whispered while John looked at the scar, smiling softly as he finally saw what he had mirrored on his body.

“I would show you the flower but I’m wearing quite the stubborn boot.” He chuckled as he turned it back and forth a bit for emphasis and you smiled, glancing up at his eyes again. “How’d you get it?”

At his question, a little blush bloomed on your cheeks that had John begging to see it more, now intrigued. “Ah, well funny thing.” You hummed, scratching at your neck awkwardly. “My friend let me try out his skateboard after I made a joke it didn’t seem so hard. I somehow tripped, broke it and sliced my ankle open on the pieces.”

It took only a second for John to suddenly burst out into laughter, your blush growing exponentially in both embarrassment as well as the realisation of how pleasant the sound was.

“D-Don’t laugh.” You weakly tried, though your own smile was tugging on your lips as he practically doubled over, looking down. “It’s not that funny.” You huffed in amusement though John stood up straight, shaking his head.

“That is the reason they’re bluebells?” He giggled out the last of his laughter and you rubbed your arms.

“What do bluebells mean?” You awkwardly asked and John looked into your eyes, his own still filled with mirth.

“Darling, they symbolise humiliation.”

At that, your face absolutely flamed up with heat and you quickly slapped your hands over it to hide away. “No they do not! Tell me they don’t.” You cried out into your palms, mortified, and John burst out laughing again, much to your chagrin. “It’s not funny, that’s so embarrassing!” You whined, only to stop when you felt a soft touch on your wrist.

Gently, Price grabbed hold of it before he pried your hand away from your face, a smile still on his features. “That reasoning is a lot better than the ones I came up with. Besides, I like bluebells.” He hummed and you breathed out softly, licking your lips.

“Promise you’re not lying?”

“Scouts honour.” He hummed with a soft smile.

Taking a deep breath, you dropped your arm and smiled a careful smile back at him. “At least you knew you had a soulmate because of it, so it’s not all bad.”

“Not all bad.” He hummed, letting go of your wrist while his eyes flitted up and down, properly taking you in.

“Guess we both marked each other up then.” You spoke but at that, John’s warm smile turned wry.

“That’s quite different, Y/N.” He shook his head and you frowned, making him let out a rueful chuckle. “I’m not the one with a body full of flowers.” His knuckles gently stroked down your forearm before he dropped his hand and let out a sigh. “See, I feared ruining someone’s life because of how I live mine.”

Hearing his words, you don’t know what compelled you to do so, but you shot forward and grabbed his right hand tight with both of yours, holding it up between yourselves. “You ruined nothing for me.”

Blinking a few times, John turned his hand to grip yours back, surprised by how shockingly addicting the warmth your hands gave off was. He almost had to tear his focus back into the conversation as he ran your words through his head again and clicked his tongue. “Nothing? You sure? I doubt you got many relationships with all the flowers I must have given you.”

Smirking a bit, you tilted your head. “And why would I want relationships when I knew I had a soulmate out there?”

Your words were quick and paired with your sudden mischievous expression, the tension between John’s brows vanished as he looked at you.

It almost felt like a veil had been lifted, one that had been holding him down for god knows how long as he realised. Even through everything he did to you, you never doubted him. You’d held out for him and trusted him to come to you. And all that while you didn’t even know him.

Taking in your expression, he allowed himself to loosen up too, his lips quirking up slightly.

“Experience?”

Gasping playfully at that, you took note as well of how he seemed to relax, making you cross your arms in a pretend display and chuckle. “How rude.”

Smiling at you, John held out his hand. “You’re right. Allow me to buy you a drink to make up for it?”

Smiling back, you placed your hand in his. “I’d love that. Plus, I don’t mean to eavesdrop but I’m pretty sure your own drink is still being guarded.”

Huffing out a laugh, John shook his head and nodded. “Guess I’ll swipe that back as well. Allow me?”

Nodding, you let him lead you back into the pub, opening the door for you before he led you to a quieter corner at the bar top.

For the rest of the night, the two of you talked, getting to know each other before exchanging numbers to keep in contact and meet up later.

Later turned into two days later, which turned into another day later as well. And safe to say, by the end of the week, a lot more of your flowers were filled in and coloured.

- - - -

Did I think of every way Price got his scars aka you got the flowers? Yes. Did it come up in the fic? No. Sad boi hours xD

Part 1 | Part 2

#john price #john price x reader #captain john price #call of duty modern warfare #soulmate au #price x reader #it’s 3:45am so if you see any mistakes no you don’t

1K notes · View notes

sanest-bsd-delegate · 8 months ago

Text

──SOULMATE [Part-1]

⪩oneshot: Soulmates are meant to be with each other, even if death do them apart.

⪩pairing: Dazai x reader

⪩a/n: soulmate au where the soulmate will feel other's pain in form of flowers blooming in the hurt area

Nothing seemed to make Dazai happy. Sure the fake mask of his personality he wore everyday could deceive others, he could fool everyone but himself, and maybe his soulmate too. Dazai viewed it like a curse. Soulmates shouldn't exist in the first place. He couldn't help but empathize and feel sad for his soulmate, for every suicidal tactic he survived, his soulmate will be somewhere, getting hurt or injured by the flowers and thorns that grew. And yet, with no sign of revenge, his soulmate never sent him a flower when he sent a bouquet of them. Human mind is weird. Should he be happy about it? He didn't knew.

You were tired. You were so tired of this life, this soulmate link that existed between you and your soulmate. Whatever his job was, how could he be so reckless. At first, you thought maybe he is still in his teen spirit dirtbag era, but it wasn't the case. For every flower that bloomed on your skin left the scars of the openings. It pained a lot at first, but you got used to it. You wanted to end this connection. It was tiring for you. As you would sob about how tough your life get, another flower would bloom open in your arms, like a lover sending his love a bouquet of flowers. You would smile a little, maybe you weren't alone in the sufferings of this world, maybe your soulmate is too, and maybe, just maybe you both could fill the emptiness in your heart with each other.

You were walking on the street returning from your job when suddenly a sharp throbbing pain arises in your forehead. Did you forget to take your medicine? Is it because of you using your phone? Are you getting heartburn? What ever the reason was, it pained so much, it felt like someone wants to burst your head open with all the forces they got. You drop on your knees, holding the pain, it hurts so much, and you didn't even know what was the cause of that. People surrounded you, calling for an ambulance, and shifting you to a hospital. The last thing you remembered were the shocking faces of people and the concerned medical team trying to talk to you. And then, you lost consciousness.

Dazai was devastated, how could chuuya shoot his head thrice? "CHUUYAAA HOW COULD YOUUUU" Dazai whined, forgetting that his soulmate existed somewhere. Maybe he was selfish, maybe people would call him a person who lacked feelings, but did it matter when the world's fate was in his hands? Chuuya did nothing but shake his head in disapproval, as both of them were on their way to walk out of the prision. Dazai whistled led all his way walking, annoying chuuya every second he got. "Can you stop being annoying?" "Come on shorthat, we have been doing this since the long time" Dazai replied, his arm around Chuuya's shoulder as they walk, "Cant believe i still have to bend my knees to get to your height".

A brief moment of silence passed when Dazai wined in pain….No it wasn't the usual physical pain he felt for the first time, it was something intense and deep, an emotion he had never felt before….it felt like his soul would ripe apart if he breathe any longer and then he felt numb.

"Are you going to just stand still? we have the world to save you know?" Chuuya remarked, rolling his eyes as he opens the door stepping outside for others to see that infact they were alive. Dazai does nothing but remained silent at his remark, before walking out the door. Suddenly he felt something on his forehead, it was a withered leaf, sticking on his forehead. Maybe it came with the wind, yeah maybe.

His soulmate had died and it was way to long gone before he could have realized.

TAGLIST: @averagehisoilluenjoyer @high-on-dazai @ruru-kiss @kissesmellow21 @just2normalperson

Join or remove your user here.

#bsd x reader #bsd #bsd fluff #bungou stray dogs #bsd headcanons #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs #bungou sd #drabbles #requests to sbd #bsd dazai #dazai #bungo stray dogs dazai #dazai x reader #bungou stray dogs dazai #dazai osamu #bsd manga

216 notes · View notes

queersolarfandompage · 1 year ago

Text

Hilson Masterlist:

A bunch of fics I’ve read in the last month, month and a half. All works are completed and over 9,000 words per fic.

My Love’s an Arbutus - Rated G

House gets a soulmate, WIlson gets Hanahaki. It ends suprisingly well for both of them.

Handle with Care - Rated G

This is the story of how James Wilson ended up on his best friends doorstep with a baby in a carseat he’d stolen from the maternity ward, and the chaos that followed.

A Thousand Teeth (And Yours Amoung Them) - Rated T

Sometimes, when House gets too overwhelmed by his emotions, he gets a little bitey. This is five times House bites Wilson, and one time Wilson finally bites him back.

Systemic - Rated T

Ever since Wilson moved in, House has presented with some inexplicable symptoms. Fortunately, he has a team of talented doctors to aid him with his diagnosis.

Touch Therapy - Rated T

It’s not that House needs the human contact. It’s just that when you’re sharing an apartment, these things happen sometimes.

I Never Sleep With Married Men - Rated T

House and Wilson are married. It’s not what you think.

Double or Nothing - Rated T

House kisses Wilson’s cheek as part of an ‘act’, it feels too natural to him, so, of course, he has to turn it all into a game, Wilson catches up pretty quickly. The duckings try to not get scarred for life.

The Line of Thought - Rated T

Cameron, Foreman, and Chase keep on trying to get into the little details of House’s love life. House doesn’t like that one bit.

In the Eye of the Storm - Rated T

House does not want Wilson to invite his subordinates over for dinner, and he definitely doesn’t want them to be stuck there due to an unexpected snowstorm. But could the two of them find what they need?

Drew Stars Around my Scars - Rated T

James Wilson loves Gregory House in secret, but perhaps he is closer to knowing than he realizes.

Oreos, a Cane, and a Hell of a Lot of Diapers - Rated T

Hilson AU in which House and Wilson are waiting for the birth of their two babies. Watch them survive their first few weeks of parenthood along with the struggles it takes to be a parent.

Impossible - Rated T

“Wilson, hey-“

“…This is James Wilson. I can’t get to the phone right now, but if you leave a message, I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”

Oh.

There was a long, sustained tone, and House cleared his throat.

“Wilson. I’m sorry for what I said to you in January. It was over the line, and I shouldn’t have gone there in the first place. I know you don’t want to talk to me, and… I’ll respect that. I just wanted you to know that I’m…”

He looked down at the flowers.

“I’m sorry.”

House and Wilson both have Hanahaki Disease, and would rather die than give up their feelings.

No Need to Worry (Making Up Your Mind) - Rated T

House makes the mistake of telling his mother he can’t join her for Christmas because of his new boyfriend. Somehow, this becomes Wilson’s problem.

Something to Prove Series - Rated T

Something to Prove

When House suddenly want to initiate a relationship with Wilson, Wilson is overjoyed. The feelings he’d held for years are finally mutual. Or are they?

Marathons

House and Wilson decide to let the other people in their lives in on the fact that they’re dating. But no, they can’t just sit them down and tell them. Of course not. That would be too boring.

After School - Rated T

Gregory House is incredibly bored with his life when James Wilson is hired to teach Anatomy & Physiology alongside him at Princeton Plainsboro High School. Though he wants to maintain that same monotony he’s grown comfortable with, House quickly finds out that one school year can change a lot.

Life’s Harsh and Sweet Lessons - Rated T

House and Wilson find out that a simple act of kindness can turn into something so much more for all involved. (I love this fic so much. They’re just gay dog dads.)

Losing Balance - Rated T

There’s a new case for House, in which Wilson gets stuck by chance. The relationship between the patiend and his best friend brings up new issues House and Wilson have to deal with. While the first simply chooses to ignore them, the second is forced to face the changes in their friendship and the influence that the people around them have on it.

Gaseous Nebula - Rated T

After a hard day at work, House and Wilson intend to spend their evening watching the Princeton Philharmonic Orchestra. Instead, the building collapses, leaving on of them trapped in peril and the other desperate for answeres. The chaos drives them to revelations about themselves and each other, but it may be too late.

Ship of Fools - Rated M

The Captain’s a tyrant and possibly a madman, but when the crew rebels it’s Wilson who gets caught in the crossfire.

Bait and Switch - Rated M

Wilson tricks House into participating in a bachelor auction to benefit the hospital.

Fool’s Gold - Rated M

Don’t threaten what isn’t yours. (Dragon AU)

Old Machines - Rated M

Wilson said, “So we’re just two friends who want to have sex with each other, who aren’t going to do anything about it.”

Spoken with the increduility of a beautiful person with low impulse control. House shrugged.

“We’ve been that for years. Why mess with success?”

Wilson was looking at his mouth. He sounded strained. “I don’t think what we’re doing qualifies as success.”

Not as Easy as it Looks on TV - Rated M

House and Wilson share an intimate moment. the likes of which Wilson had never seen before in their three year relationship. It drives Wilson to realize he wants to marry House, but of course it’s never that easy, is it?

That’s How Strong My Love Is - Rated M

For once, Wilson doesn’t fall into a relationship, much to House’s irritataion.

Fresh Feeling - Rated M

House is tricked into going on a team-building trip with his colleagues. He does far more bonding with Wilson than anyone else.

Love Is The Drug - Rated M

What happens when two best friends love each other to the point of hating each other? They try to date and sulk about it.

The More It Took Away - Rated E

House has been hiding this little secret of his for years. Too bad it’s coming back to bite him on the ass.

The Escalated Butt Dial - Rated E

He thinks it must be an accident. Because all he hears is shuffling and soft… clapping? He’s about to hang up and laugh because House butt-dialed him while drunk when he hears it.

A very, very obviously sexual grunt. A moan, if more specific. Whatever. Not whatever. He can’t really breath right now, or think; call back laterr.

He wants to hang up. This is an invasion of privacy. This isn’t okay. House butt-dialed him while masurbating, for fuck’s sake. And it’s not like he wants to listen. Right? So. Just hang up.

The One-Eyed King Takes All - Rated E

The classic crew plays strip poker.

You’re the Only One That Never Gets Old Series - Rated E

You’re the Only One That Never Gets Old

An accidental kiss… and a few taht are not so accidental.

Let’s Take A Breath (Before We Go, Go, Go)

House kisses Wilson to piss off an homophobic patient. It might ahve been his best idea yet.

Keep Me Where the Light Is - Rated E

House has his Earth shattering, (good) knee weakening, life changing revelation about Wilson at such an inopporune time, that he’s tempted to laugh. He would have, if he hadn’t been hands deep in his patient’s organs.

Absinthe - Rated E

Wilson wants a new apartment, House is up to no good, and strange metaphors abound.

Experimental Procedures - Rated E

An offhand comment leads Wilson to test out some unusual methods of pain relief for House. (They’re extremely effective.)

Familiarity (Breeds Contempt) - Rated E

House and Wilson stumble into a relationship, but they run into problems before long.

Around We Go Once More - Rated E

Stuck in a small university town out of the country with Wilson, House is up to day 104, of a ‘grounghog day’ style constatly recurring day scenario. Seeing as the day will repeat, he figures it would be safe to try and seduce Wilson; the one he’s always been attracted to, but never acted on it, for fear it would ‘ruin the friendship.’ This is not as easy as he planned, particularly as Wilson refuses to take him seriously.

Stay With Me - Rated E

House has always depended on Wilson’s friendship, but now he finds himself depending on him for his very life - and Wilson realizes that both mean more to him than he ever realized.

I’ll See You In Court - Rated E

Every year, the council chooses ten alphas to participate in the breeding run — this year Wilson has been chosen. He’ll be forced to bond with whichever omega he knocks up whilst he’s in heat. When House hears, he’s forced to take action. There’s only one way to get pulled from the yearly run, and taht’s to file an intent to bond. And in order to file an intent to bond, you need an omega willing to go through with it.

There’s only a week until Wilson’s heat, but luckily, House knows just the omega for the job.

Things That Go Bump - Rated E

Wilson has nightmares. House gets a headache. Everyone tries to diagnose just what’s going on between them.

If He Spends That Dough (Imma Throw Him a Bone) - Rated E

James Wilson loves to feel needed, so who is hOuse to refuse him?

Money, sex, and love is all you need. In that order.

Howler Tone - Rated E

The calls always happen late at night, and they’re extremely sporadic, with weeks, sometimes months bridging between them. They talk on the phone otherwise, of course; about patients, or dinner plans, or carpooling. Typical stuff. But the calls that always end a certain way always start a certain way.

House develops a new vice. Wilson, as always, enables him.

He Won’t Tell You That He Loves You - Rated E

In which Nolan pulls at the Wilson thread, and House can’t stop it all from unraveling. Repression is a hell of a drug.

A Valuable Friend - Rated E

Wilson has been recieving mysterious late night phone calls. He’s rather House kept his nose out of it - but we all know how well that goes.

Baby Mikey - Rated E

House gets a visitor that will change his life, while Wilson struggles to figure out exactly who he is and where he fits into House’s new life.

Buy Some Time, It’s On My Dime - Rated E

The one where House is a phone sex operator.

You’re So Fuckin’ Special (Run) - Rated E

It was full of pictures.

And all of them are of Wilson.

In Every Lie, In Every Truth That You’d Deny - Rated E

Wilson just needs someone to take care of while he recovers from yet another divorce. That’s all this is.

Ath least, that’s what House thinks.

A Patient’s Guide to Living with ICS - Rated E

House and Wilson share a hotel room at a medical conference.

Hooked (On Feeling Low) - Rated E

There are things even House cannot control.

Can Wilson continue picking up the pieces?

A Modest Proposal - Rated E

Tritter’s case agianst House still depends on subpoenaeded testimony from Wilson. To save House from losing everything, the doctors of PPTH decide on an unusal solution, which in turn leads to unexpected consequences. This is a story about the sacrifices we make that turn out not to be such great sacrifices after all.

Silk, Lace, and Satin Bows - Rated E

“What’re those,” House lilted, taking a firmer hold on the blanket and tugging, even as Wilson cluched the blanket to his chest, his eyse impossibly wide as he shook his head.

“It’s nothing,” Wilson gritted out, cheeks flushing hotly. “I just… I borrowed some underwear from Sam. It’s nothing. Just get out, House,” the younger man hissed, clutching the blanket more firmly to his chest.

The Marrying Kind - Rated E

The one where House is a wedding planner and Wilson keeps on getting married.

TGIF - Rated E

House is stuck living the same Friday over and over and over and over again. A Groundhog Day AU with a medical mystery, the pursuit of true love, and egregious references to Bill Murray and Andie MacDowell.

Correlation Does Not Equal Causation - Rated E

“This… this hasn’t happened before.”

“Most people say that in the opposite situation.”

Alternatively titled: Wilson Doesn’t Actually Have Whiskey Dick

Don’t mind me just adding another fic here.

Grin and Bear It - Rated E

In a world where soulmates can feel each other’s pain, Wilson had always grown up wondering if he really had a soulmate. Sure, he could feel the occasional twinge like that of a bruise or cut without actually seeing one, but he had always chalked those up to random aches and pains that everybody got.

Wilson would keep this mindset until both he and House begin feeling agonizing leg pain, and a realization dawning from it causes Wilson’s entire life and well-being to change forever.

I’m always looking for new Fics so if there’s a fic you think is missing from this list, let me know and I’ll check it out!

#house md #hilson #james wilson #malpractice md #medical malpractice #greg house #gregory house #hate crimes md #house #fanfic #masterlist

440 notes · View notes

darknights-beloved · 29 days ago

Text

King of Hearts!Diluc R. headcanons and ideas

wc ⸺ 1.4k

cw; just a heartbroken diluc. </3. not exactly a diluc x reader as in direct insert but rather doing a personality, appearance just to properly decide on his overall character. not exactly ooc though obviously its a different au so, you get it. also lots of bittersweetness ‎૮ ꒰ྀི╥ ᴗ ╥꒱ྀིა ultimately he is the sweetest hopeless romantic ever ♡

also if this was an xreader fic then it would be soulmates trope w/ a tinge of forbidden love. so there.

At first glance.

Diluc is a king with a broken heart.

He rules over a kingdom that grows more delicate and fragile as his heart weakens the more years he spends in his immortal life, lonely with exhaustive volumes of blood dirtying his hands.

The kingdom suffers a famine due to the power loss. He lies to himself, tries to trick himself into thinking he has it all under control.

He doesn't.

Perhaps in this case, he- the king - is the damsel in distress, waiting for the one he holds dear to hold his heart in her hands and kiss it until it heals.

Comes to life, eagerly. Thump thump thump...

He waits.

Personality , Traits, etc

Diluc's eyes are canonically [ ? ] sharp, I think. It's like a hooded gaze. Alert, ready...present. always making sure that no danger is in sight. As for koh Diluc? I'd like to believe his eyes are more weary, droopier. His eyebrows, however, are always etched in a furrow. But his eyes? His eyes are just sad. Canon Diluc's dominant emotion is anger (phlegmatic-choleric) and koh Diluc is more sad (melancholic-phlegmatic). It's really the long years of his immortality, fighting alone despite his army, men and all. (But he is also secretly very kind. Any tough demeanor remains a demeanor)

You know what? Now that we're talking about the temperaments. Why not just get all into it.

I believe koh diluc's pdb is

Intj (T) 6w5 ,, tri type 615 [?] ,, melancholic phlegmatic ,, Ni > Fi > Te > Se ,, sp/sx ,, neuroticism (?) please give ideas.

Koh Diluc is so, so much more exhausted. He falls asleep on his throne with his arms crossed sometimes and furrowed brows relax into a softer expression. His Guards don't dare make a sound or try to wake him up. They know how he works himself to the bone.

He's actually a little more quieter, the only time he'd usually speak is when he needs to give out another order to his men, soldiers or servants. Other than that, he's quite quiet and keeps to himself a lot /isolating

King of hearts Diluc loves desserts. He adores them. Tarts, cookies, coffee and cake - oh, he loves cake (especially red velvet/chocolate…a little self-indulgent there haha) – caramel, little toffees, pastries, chocolate.... Gods, you name it. It’s not much of a secret since at every feast and dinner table there’s always an overly generous number of deserts and sweet treats.

Despite his cold almost burnt out demeanour hes actually very soft. He love gardening a lot and tends to his flowers. He loves reading romance novels, he loves woodwork and crafting. And blade/weapon crafting too! Usually, he keeps himself occupied to distract his mind from a lot of things. Also he's immortal. so....yeah

Aesthetics / Appearance

His color palette is wine red, velvety crimson and all reds royal. Gold as well, but it's more of a light-silvery gold. He doesn't appreciate things too bright. He really likes dark colors. But he'd also appreciate the simplicity of saturated colors. (He’s a goth/victorian king.)

Having fought for more than half of his immortal life, he had earned many scars. Printed on his skin, either a proud mark of his achievements, a proof of the brunt of his responsibilities or the shame that comes with being a king that his citizens fear.

He has claw gauntlets. They're silver and the claws are long, intricately and finely designed. Despite his battles against any corruption or evil that may seep into wonderland, the gauntlets almost remain unscathed. It was a show of both beauty and strength it held.

Also what if diluc had an army outfit. like im not sure what is called but omg

Diluc doesn't like his crown. It's heavy, flashy and it irks him more than he likes to admit. It was a crown crafted for royalty, gifted by the hands of fate. It was a sign of his responsibilities, the burdens he had to carry as a king with a broken heart. It's a striking gold crown. Adorned with the rarest gems of his world, but prominently rubies and garnets.

His cape is long, it's either a dark, commanding or an intense black. Hanging over his shoulders attractively, it trails behind him as he walks with such poised posture, and he never stutters in steps. Luxurious, soft fur drapes around his neck, coating the hood of his cape perfectly.

Diluc loves rings. He loves them, he loves them, he loves them. He has many of them, all beautifully designed for his liking. The intimacy of the beautiful piece of jewelry makes his heart thump. He's a romantic.

Secret Desires, Hidden Pain

He yearns to be a kinder, softer king to his citizens. But the fear of his vulnerability slipping, his heart crumbling, he wears a mask of stoicism. He already had a fragile, broken heart. If any enemies caught sight of his weakness, wonderland would be done for. Needless to say, the mask felt heavy and unnatural.

Because he's lonely there are times where he sits in the grand chair in the huge library, right across another, slightly shorter chair (fit for a queen). It remains empty and has remained empty for as long as he remembers. He sits in a deafening silence, letting his thoughts and the overwhelming gnawing of his emotions consume him. Before him lay a chess board, on the table. White faces against him while black faces the opposite side. A few pieces were scattered beside the wooden, intricate board. He moves a piece, slowly and deliberately as if time had melted away into a misty fog his present couldn't make sense of. His feels as though his immortal life is killing him. He moves another piece- his rook- playing the two player game by himself. One day, he's sure all the turmoil would mount and he'd throw the board, send it flying across the room so that it hits the wall. Slowly, he moves yet another piece. The king's shoulders slump.

Koh Diluc feels like he misses someone. Feels like there is an ever lingering feeling his heart. Feels like some memories of him in his mind is blurred and surreal, something he can't make sense out of scientifically. He feels it. He feels a distant love. It's almost a dream, an illusion. But part of him vaguely knew it was a little secret of his soul shared with him - well, maybe. Or his mind playing cruel tricks on him, mocking him for his loneliness.

Another rather...personal Diluc headcanon! His heart (if healed and well, and hypothetically the famine is gone) can heal injuries of his (fated) beloved with a simple touch. Just a hug, just a kiss, just a brush of his fingers against her delicate skin...

Because Diluc and his dearest lover's heart beats as one.

Architecture of the His Majesty’s Castle + Other sights

His palace is a show of extravagance. How big it is. At first glance it may seem as though it would take two whole weeks to explore it fully. From the chandeliers that hung proudly on the ceiling to the velvet carpet on the floor. Every room, despite big or small, was created with purpose. The most beautiful paintings were pedestalized on the walls. They were adorned with golden frames, or silver ones or perhaps even a void-like noir.

Diluc harbours a library, abundant with books. Books with lacy covers and intricate designs. Each page would surely cost a fortune. The information it contained was almost prestigious, for the library held knowledge that can't be found easily outside its confines. Tall, grand shelves and and shacks filled to the brim with books. Despite the grandeur of it all, it had a comforting feel to it. Oh to be snugged up in a plump couch by the window of the castle, leisurely reading a book during the dark hours of the night...

He has a bountiful, grand and extensively handsome rose garden. The whole piece of land was designed elaborately, with the finest of care. He takes long walks in them whenever he gets the chance to, to simply take a breath and clear his thoughts even for a moment. And appreciate the beauty of the scenic area. Despite his strength and ferocity, he tends to all of them with nothing but gentleness. To say he loves roses is an understatement.

Identity, Status, Trivia, other...

It is no secret that this man is ridiculously, obnoxiously and impossibly rich. Diluc is typically rich, yes. But king of hearts Diluc? He's on a whole other level. He owns everything. Everything.

The king is a warrior. He has fought many battles in the past, taken part in wars against other worlds which threaten to rip apart the fabric of reality of Wonderland and claim it for themselves. Wonderland is whimsical, strange- truly a place fit for the curious who are either brave to delve into the world or too foolish.

This is a more personal-ish headcanon, but I'd like to think that his citizens are similar to the ones in Simulanka. While the world may [ ? ] have been not created by Alice or other mages, I just like to switch it up. A little.

I'm thinking...hamsters, bunnies, frogs, cats, dogs, horses and? May be other animals I have to research more.

okay but also wonderland diluc owns a black steed <3 he pampers it a lot lol and its the toughest horse in the land. both kinda have the same personality

Mermaids, colorful fish, knights (they have no body, their soul holds their armour together somehow), those nut-cracker like figures in simulanka? Maybe. This needs a little more work but hopefully you get the idea.

Want my wonderland to be more comforting.

also he genuinely has nerd-like interests in black (barred) owls and hooded owls. He admires them, and has many paintings of the creature in his castle.

a/n: im open to ideas ok like 🥹♥️plis

#the library #diluc x reader #diluc ragnvindr x reader #genshin x reader #genshin diluc x reader #diluc #diluc headcanons #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact diluc #diluc ragnvindr #sorry for the long wait and other requested fics taking time :') i write then i anaylze write some more and try to perfect it all #: plus . . . ik...i made him sad but what can i do hes just #it is what it is #he sounds like vampluc >_<#its probably bc of his immortality #images from pinterest #theyre for inspo only none of those images are literal-literal #had to say this lol :oohfs:

81 notes · View notes

dreaming-of-lu · 8 months ago

Text

cause it's me birfday eue decided to spoil myself with the soulmates au. A special surprise at the end 👀

Time

Normally, one would scream at the sight of a vast, wide open field of grass rather than their room being the first sight to see when waking up,

"Did I fucking die?" instead was the first thing that came out of your mouth. The wind was cool against your skin, lightly ruffling your bed mess hair. Miles around was knee high grass, no trees or civilization around. Just the green grass of mother earth and the blue skies with clouds that looked straight out of Ghibli movie.

"I died, didn't I?"

"I wouldn't necessarily say that-" a short yelp left your lips at the sudden voice appearing next to your ear. You scrambled back in shock, stumbling over yourself to get away from the mysterious, possibly stranger danger. Your eyes landed on the man that somehow happened to quietly sneak up on you, your words caught in your throat at the sight of him.

Long pointy ears, shoulder-length blonde hair, red and blue markings that framed his face, low brows lightly furrowed and...his right eye is shut due to a scar overlining it. Though his remaining eye made your breath hitched due to how blue it was,

"Yeah, I'm dead."

A soft snort left him before clearing his throat, "I promise you aren't, what is your name?"

"I-," you made a face at him, "why should I trust you?"

He lift his hand, pinching his arm that made your own sting, "Ow!"

"Because I am your soulmate."

First

The night seemed endless due to how long it was dragging on. With the ailed fragments of sleep begging for him to close his eyes, yet they held wide open to the stars of the night.

'Can't sleep, handsome?' their voice was like warm water drifting around him in a bath after a long day of hard work. A pleased, tired sigh left his lips, making his muscles eased from the tension his body felt. He weakly smiles to himself,

'Not without you by my side, that is.' The light snort that they gave him had his smile become more genuine, and heart pounding against his chest. The soft flush of heat burned his cheeks and neck as they softly laughed at his comment,

'Ever so the heartbreaker, my love,' they lightly teased.

'Maybe to others,' he huffs, 'though to you, my sweet, I shall carry it carefully as if it's a precious gem throughout the land, even when I meet you. It'll still be beside me.'

It's suddenly quiet, causing him to worry and flustered that he might've said something wrong to them. Only to hear a soft sniffle, 'That's...that's the sweetest, sappiest thing any one had said to me. You're too cute.'

His ears wiggled in delight. Goddesses, he felt like a school girl due to how giddy and mushy he felt, 'I'll shower you in them till you melt in them, my heart.'

They tearfully laughed, 'Okay, sap bucket, try and get some sleep, hmm?'

'Stay with me until I do?'

'Always, my darling.'

Drac

"Why this?" You blinked up from your book at the platinum blonde that took his place next to you on the sofa in the parlor room. He wasn't wearing the normal day to day werewolf shawl, instead, fortaking the shawl and adventuring attire to comfortable clothes to lounge around in. It seemed Aryll was put to sleep easily, since her moans and groans of pain used to distill the air of the house they both reside in.

The chain soft snores in the other room was definitely one to be jealous of due to how easily they knocked out. Though, you can't bring yourself to be angry too much, since the beds were soft enough to ease any ailments they might've felt throughout the day.

You shut the book, placing it aside on the table next to the sofa before turning your attention to him, "why what? did something happen?"

He gives you a flat look, grumbling lightly as he rolled his left sleeve to reveal dark ink marked upon his pale skin. He nods his head to it, "we share the same marks."

You stared wide eyed at the ink that lined his thick forearm; vines rolled around in swirls, flowers with fairies splattered here and there. The same picture that lined your own,

"I-I uhm-"

"While I don't mind the pretty ink, however, getting side eyed for it is not one that I want to deal with," He raised a brow at the shock silence that overcame your form.

"I...I think we're...yanno...soulmates?" you give him a sheepish look, grimacing when his stare hardens.

"...Well, that explains it," he leans backwards in the seat, "...could've chose a different place for it though."

"Asshole," you puffed, "I wanted something pretty to make me feel a little more confident and-"

You squeaked when his hand cupped your chin, he carefully maneuver you in laying position. His other hand came right down next to your head as his body hovered over you, he lowered his face, letting his lips ghost against yours. Gosh, was his eyes always this intense?

He smirked, "is this your way of saying we're married?"

"...you ass."

He snickers.

#.bea's writing #lu x reader #linked universe x reader #link x reader #lu time x reader #lu first x reader #linksona x reader #linksona drac x reader #soulmates au

202 notes · View notes

wooahaeruby · 6 months ago

Text

Master List

Will be edited as time goes on, currently working on getting the chapters up on tumblr too

The main group I write for is ☆Seventeen☆ but Ateez is coming!

☆Series☆

One Soul, One Heart

This series will include 12 part series for the members of Seventeen. Note that there are only 12, VerKwan will be a joint story (To You explains why).

Fallin' Flower

I am the cowriter/editor for this series. It's a Fantasy, Magic AU written by my friend. Seventeen AU.

List of Members' Soul Bonds

S.Coups/Seungcheol: All colors in the world got muted and dull Jeonghan: On the palm of their hand has a counter of how many times they have passed each other. Joshua: Being next to soulmate heals injuries quickly and the injuries that the other gets will leave a scar that appears on the other soulmate’s body Junhui: Both have '5201314' tattooed on them, meaning 'I love you forever' in Chinese text slang Wonwoo: They each have a notebook where they can write back and forth to one another. They can’t give any personal identifiers, but can still communicate things about themselves. Hoshi/Soonyoung: Craves whatever type of food their soulmate is craving (salty food, sweet food, spicy, etc) and a timer Woozi/Jihoon: Countdown timer and the ability to feel soulmate's emotions. DK/Seokmin: Hearing the song the other has stuck in their head. Mingyu: Black and white tattoo that is assumed to bloom with color when he meets his soulmate (Possible change to this) The 8/Minghao: Can hear each other's thoughts in their head/can communicate telepathically. VerKwan: Countdown timers x2 Chan/Dino: Shared Talent and each other's zodiac constellation 'tattooed' on their skin.

☆Finished Works☆

To You

Jihoon/Woozi x Reader

Tumblr Link

Ao3 Link

Tags: Soulmate AU, Canon Divergence, Fluff, Angst, Slow Burn Fluff

Fallin' Flower

?? X Reader

Tumblr Link

AO3 Link

I cowrote this with @doahaesunshine

Tags: Magic AU, Fantasy AU, Trauma, Depression, Manipulation, Angst

☆Works In Progress☆

Blood Stained Hands

Jeonghan x Reader x Joshua (Maybe more? hehe)

Tumblr Link

Ao3 Link

Tags: Mafia AU, Violence, Non-Major Character Death, Mentions of Drugs

Unnamed Seungcheol Soulmate AU

Tags: Soulmate AU, Teacher, Single Mom

Unnamed Wonwoo Soulmate AU

Tags: Soulmate Au, Streamers/Influencers AU

☆Upcoming Works☆

Unnamed VerKwan Au

Tags: Idol AU, Soulmate AU

☆Social Media☆

Twitter: CallistoSVT

131 notes · View notes

sunshine-and-moonshine · 9 months ago

Text

Soulmate Aus

Requested: No

Warnings: Discrimination based on tattoos and brief description of kidnapping

Ghost - His scars as tattoos

Twisted and burned flesh blooming into roses along your chest, deep cuts and gaping holes turned into pitch black stars that shone on your skin, drawing all sorts of attention that you hated to have on you. The whispers that follow after in your shadow leave you nauseous and uneasy. Marks, given to you by your soulmate. Barbed wire in a slash across your throat, stitch like markings on either side of your mouth like a permanent smile, thorny vines and skulls and knives littered throughout your body. That wasn’t even speaking to what might be on your back, too afraid to ask anyone or try and even maneuver to see it in a mirror.

Making friends was hard, making money even harder. They said you scared people, that you looked unprofessional. But you managed, you got by. Found work in the back of a butcher shop, so far removed from the customer service section that no one would ever even catch a glimpse of you. Straight to work then straight home, maybe a chat or two with one of your gruffer co-workers, those just as covered in tattoos as you were. Those who got it, who understood you in a way no one else seemed to.

It was in one of those conversations that you got invited out for drinks, something you regretted accepting as soon as the words had left your mouth. But it was too late, your friends already abuzz with excitement at you joining them. Assuring your that this joint was filled with people like yourself.

And they didn’t lie. Every glance you took of the place revealed someone who appeared to be in a similar state to yourself. A man with a black dagger going over his eye, little blood droplets making a trail like tears down to his chin. A woman with snakes peaking all around her hairline, their tails curving along her jaw and intertwining on her chin and down her neck. Most you couldn’t make out except for giant globs of black ink painting their face. It was reassuring, putting you at real ease for the first time in a long time. Relaxed enough to have a drink, then another, then another, laughing along with some corny joke the bartender was telling when a big man sat beside you, some surgical mask over the lower half of his face, the hood of his jacket over the upper half. But it revealed just enough for you to make eye contact with him when he glanced your way, feeling the world shift beneath you and crumble away.

Soap - Colorblind until you touch your soulmate

Shades of grey. White and black, sometimes you think you might be seeing colors, something just a hint different then the usual monochrome of your existence but you turn your head….and it’s nothing, just more of the same. It was fine when you were younger, when everyone your age saw things the same way. When you were, in this sense, just like everyone else. But things changed, you got older. Your classmates changed, met their people. People who became friends, family, lovers. Their closest confidants. Their soulmates.

And you were left behind, drifting further and further from the people who you, at one point, might have called your friends. Unable to escape their giggles and whispers of seeing color, the wonder in their voice when they described how vibrant everything seemed, that shift in their eyes. And then afterwards, getting to know the person that held that other half of their soul, it was almost as emotional for them all. But you, you were left without that.

For a time you could convince yourself that it could still happen, that you could find that person, that you would be able to see what your peers did. Eventually.

But time moved, it changed, and your vision stayed the same. Unable to witness the beautiful colors of the flowers that line your driveway, the shimmering scales of fish in the pet shop, the color of a soulmate’s eyes.

You gave up after a few years after secondary school. Defeated and broken down, chipped away at by your school mate’s whispers about how you still hadn’t met your soulmate, the only one in your grade that hadn’t. You convinced yourself that you didn’t have a soulmate. That you were just one soul, not intertwined with anyone.

Or maybe they were dead.

That was the thought that haunted you, no matter how much you tried to tell yourself that it was just you. That you were different. Or that maybe you just hadn’t met them yet. It would keep you up at night, nightmares of a faceless person reaching out to you, only to fall short, darkness swallowing them whole, drifting farther and farther away no matter how much you ran after it. Always just out of reach.

It was one of those nights when you decided to take a walk, shaking hands shoved into your coat pockets and neck slick with sweat, just wandering aimlessly when you bumped shoulders with some guy you hadn’t even seen til last second.

“Ey, watch where you’re-” He started, only to stop, anger leaking into worry. “Oi, you okay?”

“Piss off-” You snapped in return, whipping around to face the man, only to freeze, eyes locked onto his, both of your pupils’ widening, visions shifting. “What….what fucking color is that?” You whisper when the grey of his irises shifted to something vibrant, bordering on overwhelming.

“Been told that they’re something called blue.” He breathed.

Gaz - His name on your wrist

Gaz.

The name written on your wrist, messy chicken scratch that resembled scribbles more than actual writing. It was confused for dozens upon dozens of other names growing up, but this one. Gaz. It resounded in your skull in a way none of the other nicer or more normal sounding ones did. It rolled off your tongue, appeared in your dreams, a whisper in your ear that just wouldn’t fade away.

Gaz.

For someone with such an unusual name, he was certainly hard to find. Everywhere you went, everywhere your friends and family went, they asked if they ever heard of anybody named Gaz, only to come up with zilch. Nada. Nothing. A needle in a haystack but it seemed the needle grew legs and ran away, or maybe even just got dropped into a wormhole somewhere. It was an unhealthy and depressing thought but it was what came to mind when you became overwhelmed with it, consumed by thoughts of an elusive soulmate that you might not be finding just because you keep getting stuck on what you think his name is instead of any of the other possibilities that it could be. It was days like this that you wanted to find your soulmate just to strangle them for their shitty handwriting that would brand you for your entire life. Written on your flesh in a deep black.

Gaz.

It was during one of these times where one of your friends asked to set you up on a blind date. A cousin of theirs, good looking they’d said. Sweet guy in the military, on break for now. If nothing else, he’d make for a good shag to take your mind off of the whole soulmate ideal. It was with great reluctance that you accepted, dressed in a semi formal/semi casual outfit for a date at a place that was a few steps above a Maccy’s but nothing michelin star worthy. Not too formal, not too casual.

And the guy was nice, introducing himself as Kyle. Shook your hand and pulled out your chair for you, letting you set the pace for the date. Made you laugh, his eyes sparkling at every chuckle you couldn’t contain. He seemed too good to be true, and you agreed to a second date despite the name inked onto your wrist.

A second date led to a third led to movie nights led to slow kisses under the sheets led to moving in together led to meeting his friends, his brothers in arms. Where, for the first time, you heard them shout his callsign.

Gaz.

Hearing it from someone else was sweeter than any of the times you’d whisper it to yourself at night.

Alejandro - The first words he says to you written on your wrist

“Now what’s a beautiful thing like you doing here all alone?”

Possibly the blandest soulmate question anyone could ever have written on their arm, looping cursive that was on the edge of appearing just a little hard to leave. The question itself may be awfully common but the handwriting was not. It was something you liked about your soulmate, tracing the letter with your thumb over and over and over until you were sure you could perfectly write out every elegant letter with your eyes closed.

It was what you were doing now, scared and curled up into a ball after being kidnapped by some drug lord or other. No matter how much you tried to plead that they had the wrong person, that you didn’t even know who they were, it didn’t matter. They snatched you up all the same, tossing you in this grimy cell and leaving you on your lonesome. You were scared, terrified. You wondered if you’d die before you even had the chance to meet your soulmate, all because they nabbed the wrong person.

It felt like weeks, but surely must have only been days, before you saw another person again, hazy, on the brink of a sleep you weren’t sure you were going to wake up from. Your eyes were heavy, so much so that they almost didn’t have the power to open again when the door slammed open, the rushing of feet following, the whoosh of fabric as someone knelt beside you and pressed their fingers to your throat, checking for your pulse.

“Now what’s a beautiful thing like you doing here all alone?” A voice whispered, an arm curving under your knees and another cradling the back of your head, a warm body pressing against you, offering you the first real source of comfort you’d had since you were taken.

“I think I’m dying of thirst.” You mumble, voice a shaky slur. So out of it that you didn’t feel the man pause for a moment before gripping you tighter.

“Probably, Amor.” He says, voice more strained now. There were more sounds now, more stomping and heavy doors slamming. It was hurting your head. “But we’ll fix you right up. Get something for you to drink.” He says, his voice fading for a moment before he said “I’m Alejandro, by the way.”

You weren’t sure the babble that left your mouth before you passed out was any sort of comprehendable to him.

#cod #call of duty #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #john soap mactavish #john soap mactavish x reader #kyle gaz garrick #kyle gaz garrick x reader #Alejandro Vargas #alejandro vargas x reader

176 notes · View notes