#flower scars soulmate au

[ekat-fandom-blog]

It was known that whenever your soulmate got a scar or a bruise you'd get a flower in the same place. The flowers coincide with how they were feeling when they got the scars/bruises. As the scars/bruises faded, so did the flowers.

Sam and Valerie had figured out they were soulmates because they got the same flowers in the same area every time their soulmate (or soulmates. They weren't sure how many they had.) got hurt. Some of the flowers never faded, showing that their soulmates scar never did either.

As time went on Sam got more and more interested in how the soulmate marks work. Found as many resources as she could, and when she ran out of them, she started experimenting. The experiments didn't last very long. Everyone was very upset with her. It didn't matter, she had proof that the flower meaning guide she found was accurate.

Cass had always been careful to hide her soulmate marks when she'd been with the League. They were a sign of weakness. They were also a sign of a potential traitor. Her father told her to never look at them.

When she left, she found them interesting to look at she didn't understand why they were there or why they appeared or disappeared. They just did. They were pretty. She saw them on other people sometimes too. While she hid them when she was in public as she only wore her Orphan costume and then kept to long sleeves and pants, she took joy in admiring the pretty flowers.

She learned what they meant and what they were after she was adopted by Bruce. She wasn't good at reading words, so the "Flower meanings list" wasn't very helpful, but Steph and Tim helped her figure out their meanings.

Steph didn't mean to hide her soulmate marks, but it was easier sometimes to hide them along with the bruises and scratches and other injuries than it was to avoid covering them up. She started to suspect that Cass was her soulmate when she saw flowers pop up when she got hurt. She thinks Cass noticed flowers appearing on her whenever the other got hurt, too.

After they confirmed their status as soulmates, they started to suspect that they had at least one more. There were a few thyme (courage, strength) sprigs and tansy (hostile thoughts, declaring war) littering them both showed that whoever their other soulmate was, was probably a spitfire. Their soulmate's flowers eventually stopped appearing so frequently.

Valerie left Amity, promising Sam to call as often as possible. The new city, Gotham, was dark and gothic. Valerie knew Sam would love the place. The fact that her soulmate could so easily fit in with the villains made her hope they never decided to settle down here.

It wasn't easy to adjust to the place, given how dreary and loud and crowded it was. She had to deal with too many idiots trying to pickpocket her. It was enough to make her wish she'd gone to a city closer to her hometown. Like Faucett City.

It really didn't help that there were vigilantes that had decided to take an interest in her. Dumb vigilantes that had decided to name themselves after animals. It's almost as bad as Danny's pun. Or "Superman".

[pineapple-frenzy]

Hello! If you are still taking prompts, literally anything from your flower soulmate au for Zutara 👀💜🌸

Aahhh this took quite a while but I had too many thoughts and ideas for what to draw

I went ahead and made another comic and I'm just gonna ramble for a bit qlfjlqkwqk

I think I mentioned this before, but Katara didn't like her soulmark flowers for a quite some time because they remind her too much of painful memories and her inability to protect those dear to her. So for the longest time she would pick them off her face and pretend they weren't there. It wasn't til she worked things out with Zuko that she started to accept the flowers as a part of her and she didn't feel the need to pick them anymore

[badger-tales]

Skin Deep// G.W x Reader

a/n: I love soulmate au’s and I'm not afraid to admit that 🗣️🗣️

Request: Hello!! I've been thinking alot about soulmate!AUs recently and was wondering if you could do a George Weasley x hufflepuff!reader, with the soulmate trope where writing on their skin shows up on the other or if one gets injured the other will have a scar appear in the same place (they don't feel the pain of said injury tho) etc. Reader is close friends with Fred and George, but has obvi been crushing on George (and he on them) in "secret" as they both don't know they are each others soulmates until either a prank backfiring or a rough quidditch match where the reader then shares the scar and George sees it. Then fluff 👀😁

word count: 3.2k

The Gryffindor common room buzzed with its usual post-dinner energy, warm and glowing under the soft light of floating candles. The thick, comforting scent of old books, faint traces of wood smoke, and distant pumpkin juice still clung to the air as students clustered together, filling the room with chatter and laughter. It was a typical evening, a snapshot of Hogwarts life at its most lively, but for George Weasley, everything beyond the small circle around him was merely background noise.

He leaned back in his worn armchair, the edges of the cushion threadbare from years of use, his legs casually propped up on the table in front of him. Fred sat across from him, gesturing wildly as he recounted their latest prank, the story weaving together flashes of enchanted pumpkins, glitter explosions, and one very irritable Professor Snape. Fred’s voice rose and fell in animated excitement, drawing laughter from nearby Gryffindors, but George’s attention kept wandering elsewhere.

It wandered to her.

Sitting beside Fred, she had one leg tucked underneath her, her bright yellow and black Hufflepuff scarf lying in a soft heap across her lap. She wasn’t paying full attention to Fred’s tale, at least not in the way she normally did. Instead, her wand traced delicate lines across the back of her hand, leaving behind shimmering ink that formed little swirling vines and flowers. They bloomed gently, one after another, her lips tugging into a faint smile as she added a leaf here, a petal there. It was a small, absent-minded ritual of hers when she was lost in thought, and George had seen it enough times to know that her mind was elsewhere.

Merlin, how many times had he caught himself staring? Too many. He knew her expressions better than he’d like to admit—the slight furrow in her brow when she was thinking hard, the little bite of her lip when she was stifling a laugh, or the way her eyes went unfocused when she drifted into her own world. The three of them—Fred, George, and her—had been close since third year, bonded by shared jokes and pranks, and George had always felt like he could read her better than anyone.

But recently, things had changed. Every time he tried to “read” her, his chest tightened in ways that sent his thoughts spinning. That light in her eyes, the curve of her smile—it wasn’t just friendship anymore, at least not for him. His heart wasn’t supposed to leap every time she laughed or flutter when she brushed past him. He was supposed to be calm, easy, the way he always was around her. Yet here he was, nervously kicking his foot up and down under the table like some love-struck first year.

"Oi, mate! You listening?"

Fred’s voice cut through his thoughts like a splash of cold water, snapping George back to the present. Fred’s eyebrows were raised in mock accusation, a grin tugging at his lips. Beside him, she was giggling softly, her eyes glancing toward George.

"Not at all," George admitted with a shrug, fighting the urge to rub the back of his neck. His grin came automatically, a cover for the fact that he’d been completely lost in thought—thoughts about her.

Fred’s story faded into the background again as George caught her eye. Her laugh shifted into a small, shy smile, and she quickly looked away, cheeks tinged with a slight blush that sent a rush of warmth through him. He felt his heart stutter, and Merlin, did she have any idea what she was doing to him? Could she tell? Were his feelings that obvious?

He hoped not. As much as he wanted to just tell her, to confess how much he’d been crushing on her for months now, the thought of what it might change terrified him. She was one of his best friends. The three of them—it was a trio that had always worked. How could he risk mucking that up by blurting out that she’d been on his mind constantly? And what if… what if she wasn’t even his soulmate? What if all these feelings were one-sided and he ruined everything?

George glanced down at his arm, half-expecting a sudden mark or doodle to show up—a sign, something to tell him whether she was his soulmate or not. There’d been small clues over the years, but never enough to be certain.

A loud crack from the fireplace snapped him out of his thoughts once more, this time jolting the entire common room out of its comfortable chatter.

“Oi, George!” Fred leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “Bet you two galleons you can’t make this a proper night of mayhem. I’ve got the dungbombs ready to go.”

Fred always had a way of bringing George back to the present, and for a moment, George’s worries melted under the weight of potential mischief. He arched an eyebrow, glancing from Fred to her, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “What do you think? You in?”

Her hesitation was brief, but George saw the flicker of excitement light up her face, the playful spark that never failed to make his heart skip a beat. She turned her head toward George, eyes glinting with mischief of her own. "You know I can’t resist a little mischief,” she replied, leaning forward slightly. “What’s the plan?”

George’s grin widened. Yeah, that’s why he liked her. She wasn’t just someone he fancied—she was his partner in crime, someone who never shied away from a bit of chaos. And while the pranks, the laughter, and the camaraderie were all great, it was the moments like these—the ones where it was just the two of them, sharing a glance or a joke—that really mattered to him.

But as the three of them huddled together, plotting their next adventure, George couldn’t quite shake the thought that maybe—just maybe—tonight would be the night things changed. Maybe it was time for fate to step in.

The prank had gone off almost perfectly. Almost. The Weasley twins' enchanted fireworks had burst into life with a dazzling array of colors, setting the usually quiet corridors alight with vibrant hues. Brilliant reds, golds, and blues spiraled through the air, casting flickering reflections on the stone walls as they exploded in bursts of glitter and smoke. The sound was deafening—crackles and pops echoing like mini thunderstorms throughout the castle, and for a few glorious minutes, it had seemed like nothing could go wrong.

But, as always, Peeves had other plans.

The poltergeist had swooped in out of nowhere, gleefully cackling as he swooped through the fireworks display, scattering the shimmering lights into utter chaos. He’d knocked a few of the rockets in the wrong direction, sending one whizzing toward Filch’s office and another careening into a stack of dusty armor, which collapsed with a loud crash. The next thing George knew, Peeves had started hurling ink pots, parchment rolls, and whatever else he could get his hands on, sending the three of them sprinting for cover.

Which was how George found himself tearing down the darkened hallways of Hogwarts, side by side with her, laughter bursting from their chests in gasps between breaths. The adrenaline thrummed in his veins, making everything sharper—the echo of their footsteps, the distant sounds of Peeves chasing after Fred somewhere behind them, and the feeling of her arm brushing against his as they ran, her grin as wide and wild as his own.

His lungs burned from the exertion, but the thrill of it all—the chaos, the risk of getting caught, the way she looked at him, eyes bright and full of mischief—made every second feel electric.

“Oi! Over here!” George panted, grabbing her hand and pulling her down a narrow corridor, his laugh echoing against the stone. But in their haste, neither of them noticed the uneven stone floor. Her foot caught on a loose flagstone just as they rounded a corner, and the next thing George knew, she was tumbling forward with a startled yelp.

The world tilted, and she hit the ground with a jarring thud, the stone floor cold and unyielding beneath her. Her elbow took the brunt of the fall, and George winced at the dull ache spreading through her arm as she landed. But the sting of it seemed to be overshadowed by her embarrassment. Of all times to trip, of course it had to be in the middle of a prank escape.

George skidded to a halt beside her, his own breath coming fast as he bent down, concern replacing the mischievous grin that had been on his face moments before. “You alright?” he asked, voice breathless but soft, the playful spark in his eyes now replaced with something gentler.

She winced, rubbing her elbow where it had slammed into the stone. "Just my pride," she muttered, pushing herself up into a sitting position. The dull throb in her arm was more annoying than painful, and she flexed her fingers to test it. "And maybe my arm," she added with a small, self-deprecating chuckle.

George crouched beside her, his expression still serious as he extended a hand. “Here,” he said, his voice quieter now, his usual teasing tone absent. She hesitated only for a moment before taking it, his grip warm and solid as he helped pull her to her feet. Even once she was standing, his hand lingered in hers for a second too long, his thumb brushing over her knuckles before he finally let go.

“You sure you’re alright?” he

asked again, his eyes scanning her for any sign of injury, as if he hadn’t fully believed her the first time.

She offered him a small smile, more to reassure him than anything else. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. Just a bruise, probably.”

George didn’t look entirely convinced, but after a moment, he nodded, though his gaze flickered to her arm one last time. “Alright,�� he said, but there was a softness to his voice now, a thread of concern that hadn’t been there before. “Let’s catch up with Fred before Peeves decides to throw dungbombs.”

Later that night, after the adrenaline had worn off and the glow of the common room fire had given way to the quiet of the Hufflepuff dormitory, she found herself lying in bed, staring up at the ceiling. The familiar comfort of her four-poster bed usually brought her peace after long, chaotic days, but tonight, she couldn’t shake the lingering feeling of George’s touch, or the way he’d looked at her with that worried frown.

She rolled over onto her side, absently running her hand over the spot on her elbow where she’d fallen. There was a dull ache there now, the kind that would probably bruise by morning. But as her fingers traced over the skin, something caught her attention. Her brow furrowed, and she sat up, pushing back her sleeve to get a better look.

There, just below her elbow, was a faint scar. Not a bruise, as she’d expected, but a small, silvery mark that hadn’t been there before.

Frowning, she traced the scar with her fingertips, the skin smooth but slightly raised. How had it healed so quickly? She hadn’t felt any serious pain when she’d fallen—just the usual sting of hitting stone—but this scar felt… strange. Unfamiliar.

A prickle of unease crawled up her spine as she continued to stare at the mark. Scars didn’t just appear out of nowhere, not like this. And something about the way it had appeared, so suddenly, sent a ripple of confusion through her.

What if it wasn’t just a normal scar?

The thought came unbidden, and she swallowed, suddenly feeling the weight of the silence in the room. There’d been stories about soulmates—about marks and scars appearing between them, about the way their bodies mirrored each other in ways that defied explanation. But she’d never taken it too seriously before. Until now.

She lay back down slowly, eyes fixed on the scar, her thoughts spinning. If this was what she thought it was… what did it mean?

The next morning found her in the Great Hall, surrounded by the steady hum of students enjoying breakfast. The long tables were laden with platters of eggs, toast, and bacon, the air filled with the mouthwatering scent of sizzling sausages and the sweetness of pumpkin juice. But despite the warmth and bustle around her, her mind was elsewhere—fixated on the mysterious scar now etched into her skin.

She sat quietly, absently twirling a spoon between her fingers, her eyes flickering down to the faint silvery line that now marked her arm just below her elbow. It hadn’t been there before last night’s prank, and she couldn’t shake the strange feeling it gave her. The scar felt like a puzzle waiting to be solved, a question gnawing at the back of her mind that refused to be ignored. How had it appeared so suddenly? Why hadn’t it been a bruise like she’d expected? She traced it lightly with her finger, the skin smooth and slightly raised.

But before her thoughts could unravel further, a familiar raucous energy interrupted her reverie. Fred and George slid into the seats across from her, both wearing expressions far too pleased for this early in the morning. Fred was practically vibrating with smug satisfaction, his wicked grin giving away that he was still riding high from the chaos of last night.

“Peeves owes us one after last night,” Fred declared, plucking a slice of toast from the pile and slathering it with jam, his tone gleeful. “We’ve still got some fireworks left, if you’re up for round two tonight.” His eyes twinkled mischievously, clearly already planning their next bout of mayhem.

But while Fred was cheerfully plotting, George wasn’t joining in on the excitement. In fact, George wasn’t paying attention to his twin at all. His gaze had shifted, brow furrowing as he stared at her arm, specifically at the scar that had consumed her thoughts all morning.

“Hey,” George said slowly, his voice tinged with confusion as he pointed at the mark. “When did you get that?”

Her stomach twisted sharply. The casual noise of the Great Hall seemed to dull around her, her heart skipping a beat as she looked down at her arm again. A knot of unease formed in her chest. She had almost convinced herself it wasn’t a big deal, that the scar was just a strange accident, but now that George had noticed…

“I—” Her voice came out quieter than she’d intended. She cleared her throat, feeling the weight of George’s eyes on her as she forced herself to meet his gaze. “Last night, after the prank. I tripped. It just… showed up later.”

Fred, completely oblivious to the tension now brewing at the table, continued munching on his toast, not missing a beat. “Weird,” he said with a nonchalant shrug, already moving on in his mind to their next prank. “Anyway—"

But George wasn’t listening. He didn’t even glance at Fred. His focus was fixed entirely on her, and something unspoken hung in the air between them. Slowly, deliberately, he rolled up the sleeve of his jumper, revealing the pale skin of his forearm. And there, in the exact same spot, was an identical scar. The same shape, the same placement.

“I got this… last night,” George said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. There was a note of disbelief in his tone, as though he was still trying to wrap his mind around what he was seeing.

Her heart stopped. Time itself seemed to falter as she stared at the scar on his arm, then back at her own. The world around her—the clatter of dishes, the chatter of students, Fred’s carefree voice—all faded into the background, muffled by the rush of blood pounding in her ears. This couldn’t be real. Her mind raced, piecing together the impossible puzzle that had been forming over the years.

She’d always wondered who her soulmate might be. There had been signs, little things that appeared on her skin now and then—a faint doodle, a random bruise, fleeting but noticeable. She’d wondered, even daydreamed about what it would be like to finally meet them. But never, in all those daydreams, had she imagined it would be George. Her George.

“Wait… that means—” Her voice trembled as she spoke, barely able to get the words out, her eyes wide as she looked up at him. “We’re… soulmates?” Her heart hammered in her chest, so loud she was certain he could hear it.

George’s expression softened in a way she hadn’t seen before. His usual playful, carefree demeanor melted into something far more tender, far more intimate. The way he looked at her now—it wasn’t just his usual teasing glance or a friendly smirk. No, this was deeper. Warmer. He reached out slowly, his fingers brushing against her scar with a featherlight touch, as though he couldn’t quite believe it either.

“Looks like it,” he murmured, his voice soft, eyes locking with hers in a way that made her pulse quicken. His fingers lingered on her skin, tracing the line of the scar as if confirming it was real.

For a moment, the world stopped. Fred’s voice was still a faint hum in the background, but she couldn’t hear him. All that existed was George—his hand on her arm, the warmth in his touch, the way his eyes searched hers with a quiet intensity. The realization was like a wave, crashing over her and pulling her under all at once. George was her soulmate. The boy she’d spent years laughing with, confiding in, pulling pranks with… the one she’d harbored feelings for in secret.

Her face flushed, a soft heat blooming in her cheeks as the weight of it all settled over her.

“I…” The words tumbled out of her mouth before she could stop them, her heart racing ahead of her mind. “I’ve liked you for ages.” The confession slipped past her lips in a rush, almost like she was afraid she wouldn’t be able to say it if she hesitated. “But I didn’t think—” She stopped, suddenly unsure how to finish, barely believing she’d even said it out loud.

George’s lips curved into a soft, almost disbelieving smile. He let out a low laugh, shaking his head as though the whole situation was too surreal to grasp. “You’ve no idea how long I’ve been waiting to say the same thing.”

His hand slid down from her arm to take her hand fully in his, his grip firm but gentle as his thumb brushed lightly over her knuckles. The warmth of his touch sent a flutter through her chest, and she couldn’t help but smile back, the weight of unspoken feelings finally lifting.

“Well,” George said, a mischievous glint returning to his eyes, “now that we know…”

“Now what?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, though her smile was widening.

“Now,” George said, his grin widening into the full, charming smile she’d known so well, “we’ll have to come up with a proper soulmate prank, won’t we?”

Her laughter bubbled up, the sound of it light and free, and the tension that had wrapped itself around her heart for so long melted away, replaced by something brighter—something thrilling. She didn’t know what was coming next, but she did know one thing: things would never be the same again.

[buddierecs]

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

[earlgreyinpajamas]

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

[hihhasotherfixations]

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

[sanest-bsd-delegate]

──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.

[queersolarfandompage]

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!

[dreaming-of-lu]

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.

[sunshine-and-moonshine]

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.

[wooahaeruby]

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

[creativepromptsforwriting]

Hi! I’ve recently been reading a bunch of soulmate fics, against my better judgement, so I’ve been thinking about them a bit. Do you have any prompts or ideas for playing the soulmate concept for horror? Thanks! Have a nice day!

Hi :)

I'm not the best with horror, because it's not something I read, but I'll try my best for you!

Dark Soulmates AUs

Soulmates are supposed to live and die together. That means as soon as soulmates lay eyes on each other, their souls get entwined, so that if one dies the other does too. It has become quite common to hire people that specialize in finding and killing soulmates, so that they never randomly meet them and risk dying through them.

Words can get written on each other's body, but every single letter appears as a wound, leaving nasty scars that won't go away.

Being away from your soulmate will lead to excruciating pain, if they go too far, both soulmates will die.

Soulmates get the same injuries, so it is not uncommon to see perfectly healthy people suddenly collapse with gashing wounds, when their soulmates get into accidents.

The concept of a soulmate being a romantic partner was a fairytale. In this world you share a soul with your worst enemy, having to fight for your life and the right to your soul.

People who don't find their soulmate by a certain age will eventually wither like flowers, not being able to live a life without the second half of their soul.

Soulmates feel each other's pain and criminals use this to torture two people at once.

Every touch from your soulmate will leave an imprint on your body, but everyone can clearly see if it was done in a loving manner or if your soulmate caused you harm. People pity you when they see your imprints.

Starting at age 18, people will stop aging until they find their soulmate to grow old with. Many people don't want to give up possible immortality and hire hitmen to get rid of their soulmates.

Hanahaki Disease: If your love is not getting returned, flowers start growing inside your body, suffocating you from inside. Surgical removal is dangerous and you're dying without your soulmate's love.

More: Soulmates AUs | Multiple Soulmates Prompts

Hope you like them, I had a lot more fun writing these than I thought I would. :)

- Jana

[buckrecs]

Hello! You are doing the lords work here on this blog🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻 do you have any soulmate au recs? I know some people don’t like them so no problem if not and sorry if you’ve been asked before!

Soulmate AU

masterlist | req masterlist

ONESHOT

the knowing by @noctumbra

ten days later, james barnes got a call from the police.

for your love by @noctumbra

they were very young; a little shy from being fourteen at that time, but both of them knew they were it. soulmates.

The Owl and the Wolf by @waiting4inspiration

In a world where a person can their soulmate’s spirit animal speaking like a human, Bucky hears your owl’s voice one day.

Snowflakes by @all1e23

Steve drags Bucky to a Christmas festival to take his mind off the fact that he has yet to meet his soulmate.

Colors in the Dark | 2 by @buckychristwrites

The world is without color, and that’s never bothered the Winter Soldier. The Fist of HYDRA didn’t have time for love and soulmates. At almost a century old, what are the odds that his soulmate was even still living?

Say That Again by @justsomebucky

Everyone hears a key word or phrase in their head from their soulmate, something only heard in person when the moment is right.

Teddy Bear by @softlyspector

in which when one soulmate loses something, their other half finds it.

Winter Sun by @softlyspector

When you and Bucky are kidnapped, you find out just how far you would go to keep each other safe.

Assassination to Soulmates by @bxcketbarnes

See the World the Way You Do by @vanderlustwords

You start to see colour when you meet your soulmate. Bucky thinks that soulmates are a one of a kind thing—you get one and that's it. His world used to be colourful once and then he lost that. He's resigned to see black and white for the rest of his life...until flashes of colours would appear from the corner of his eye. And it seemed to happen more and more as Bucky spends time with you.

Stay Still | Please, don’t by @buckysknifecollection

What if your soulmate was the one person you had hurt the most?

Enchanted by @natasharomanovf

The reader is in a loveless relationship when she meets her true soulmate, Bucky.

what’s in a name? by @ciarawritesmarvel

When you love someone, their name appears on your shoulder. If it’s in blue, it’s unrequited. If it’s in red, it’s requited. The name turns black when your love dies. 

SERIES

Who I Was Looking For by @soopranatural

Even after you started wearing cuffs, the words are engraved in your mind as well as your wrist. You know you’re not destined for love as soon as you learn how to read. How could you? When the words “Sorry, you’re not who I was looking for” are written in black ink on your skin.

The Only Exception by @whitestarbucky

Humans were originally created with four arms, four legs and a head with two faces. Fearing their power, Zeus split them into two separate parts, condemning them to spend their lives in search of their other halves. A lesson that taunted Bucky Barnes his whole life. Perhaps it was why he refused to believe in it. He couldn’t afford to. Then you came into his life to challenge his fears to their deepest degrees, not once, but twice. Whether he liked it or not.

A Moment Of Your Time by @stevesbestgirl

A soulmate AU where the headstrong reader realizes that she’s meant to love the brutal mob boss of New York City, James Buchanan Barnes. She doesn’t want to be a part of organized crime and she doesn’t want to rely on anyone, but how do you ignore your soulmate? 

Scars by @tokoyamisstuff

whatever you write on your skin, it appears on your Soulmate’s.

Flowers Bloom by @revengingbarnes

Whenever someone is injured, flowers bloom on their soulmate at the area of the wound. She is born with flowers around her entire left shoulder.

Heartbeat by @after-avenging-hours

Where your heartbeat matches the beat of your soulmate’s; they speed up together, slow down together, skip at the same time, but that means they also stop together...  

The Color of Blood by @theidiotwhowritesthings

In this world, a person didn’t discover color until they locked eyes with their soulmate. As an agent of SHIELD, finding your soulmate was hardly a priority. Especially since you were currently dealing with the shocking discovery that HYDRA had been pulling the strings behind SHIELD actions this entire time. Life was all about timing, and you were about to find out that your timing was absolute shit.

My night demons by @themorningsunshine

In which one can see their soulmate's dreams and communicate with them through those dreams.

.

.

.

.

.

[wren-kitchens]

I found this on pinterest earlier and Have Not been able to stop thinking about it and I have no idea if i’m gonna write it but I have to express my thoughts because yes

(this au but like last life people in some kind of modern au)

jizzie (fuck you i’m using that ship name it’s hilarious): the only one in the (newly formed at the start of the au) friendship group who has actually found their soulmates—they were at a concert one time and the performer came on, and lizzie was excited and so grabbed joel’s arm and neither of them noticed their black marks had turned rainbow until halfway through the concert

ethubs (i’m especially insane over this one): etho wears a mask because he has a black handprint on his cheek/jaw and is embarrassed at how it looks like his first touch is his soulmate slapping him—fast forward to him being brave enough to show his closest friend (bdubs) who carefully cups his face against the ‘slap’ mark. both of them are incredibly excited when it promptly turns rainbow

scarian: scar has always had streaks of black in his hair and he just assumed it was some weird genetic thing (and is quite upset that he ‘doesn’t have’ a soulmate). grian was always pretty reserved and doesn’t like touching anyone he’s not incredibly close to, but after a couple months was inseparable with scar but was too shy to actually touch him, until one day when scar admits he thinks he’s unloveable because he has no soulmate, and grian starts running his hands through his hair to calm him down. it definitely works, after the streaks of black and the tips of grians fingers turn rainbow

flower husbands: both scott and jimmy have relatively confusing soulmate marks—scott’s is on his thumb and barely the tips of his index and middle fingers, and jimmy’s is around the edge of his ear. neither of them really understand it, until one day where scott plucks up the courage to tuck a flower behind jimmy’s ear and their marks turn rainbow

[wolfwrenweek]

What is WolfWren Week? Five days in November (Nov 6-10) dedicated to the relationship between Sabine Wren and Shin Hati from Ahsoka. Check out our About and Rules for more info. A detailed explanation of our daily themes can be found on our Prompts page and down below! Don't forget to tag your works with #wolfwrenweek and #wolfwrenweek2023 ♡

The below themes are intended to be used as inspiration for fandom creators participating in WolfWren Week. Each day has a unique motif and a corresponding collection of related prompts to pick from. You are welcome to use one or more prompts from within the same category for your creations.

NOV 6 devouring heavenly bodies | a day for possessive love. Biting, Blood, Scars, Wounds, Obsession, Jealousy, Rivalry, The Hunt, Murder

NOV 7 intricate rituals | a day for sacred acts. Courting, Body Worship, Sparring/Dueling, Makeup and Hair, Tattoos and Piercings, Collars and Restraints, Armor, Mandalorian Culture

NOV 8 between two lungs | a day for tender intimacy. Belonging, Domesticity, Cuddling, Dancing, Firsts, New Beginning, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Only One Bed, Confessions, Force Bond, Found Family, Promise

NOV 9 howl of affection | a day for the spoken word. “Are you blushing?”, “Who did this to you?”, “Going somewhere?”, “Wait!”, “Who’s that?”, “Let me help you.”, “I hate you.” — “I know.”, “I can help you.”, “Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum.”

NOV 10 dreams and madness | a day for bending reality. Sith AU, Flower Shop & Tattoo Artist AU, Clone Wars AU, Role Reversal AU, Band/Musician AU, Modern Day AU, Medieval AU, Soulmate AU, Imperial Academy AU, Time Travel AU, Padawans AU, Werewolf AU

While you are encouraged to use the prompts shared as inspiration, they are not mandatory. If you have a concept for something you really want to make that does not fit any of these, you are still welcome to participate during the event week!

[chrysalis-the-butterfly]

Huskerdust and Soulmate Flowers

I was recently researching the various Soulmate AUs that people have come up with for their fandoms, and one in particular stood out to me: the Flower Soulmate AU.

What if every time something tragic happens in your soulmate’s life, a flower appears on your body somewhere? ... Imagine having a partner at war, and flowers are appearing everywhere over your body. When they return home, they have scars while you have roses.

And I started thinking about Huskerdust, and what would happen if they were soulmates, and what would happen if one man grew flowers when the other was hurting.

Imagine Husk behind the bar, late at night, feeling a tingling on his face and noticing a patch of cherry blossoms around his eye, and watching as more and more of them bloom on his chest and under his trousers, and realising, "Yeesh, Anthony must be having a really hard day at work," and heading upstairs to run a bath and find the First Aid kit.

Imagine Angel at work on another day, in his dressing room, yanking red roses out of his spine and knees, muttering, "Come on, Husk, can you not have chronic pain while I'm trying to shoot a movie?" and then immediately feeling guilty, and resolving to give Husk the best darn back massage he's ever had when he's back at the Hotel - with all six arms out.

Imagine Charlie noticing Husk's cherry blossoms and Angel's roses, and knowing what this means because she has an izote flower by her left eye, the same eye that Vaggie is missing. Imagine Charlie squeeing at the prospect of Husk and Angel being soulmates and getting married and whatnot, and the two men insisting that they're not soulmates, the flowers are a coincidence, they don't even like each other ... except they do.

Yeah, I think I want to write a fanfic about this.