#colour soulmates

[anxiouslyfred]

Connections - Dukexiety

Summary: A world of various soulmate connections forming at different ages, The sides need to navigate each having multiple types of soulmate connections and finding each other. Remus takes being unable to see green and purple as a challenge. From the time he turns 11, he will only ever paint in black, black or black. It definitely makes for some interesting art work. 

Part of an ongoing daily series of a DRLAMP soulmate au with each day focusing on 1 ship

/\/\

At 11, Remus focused entirely on painting in 3 colours: Black, black and black.

The twins had been given some paints for their birthday, to be shared between them, which now seemed entirely unfair when he could no longer see his favourite colours. Roman hadn't helped, bursting out laughing when Remus complained of there being too many black paints and asking where the purples and greens were.

It was the fanciest set of paints they'd had so far, both of them actually trying to do great art in order to earn this set. The paints were all in little tubes and had labels showing the colour with a name beside it. After a while of laughing, Roman did attempt to comfort Remus's pouting by suggesting he uses the colour names to know what colours he's painting with, even if he couldn't be certain of the shade.

Remus wasn't comforted, but after scowling for a little longer decided it didn't matter. He could paint a black bat on a moonless night, or a coalminer down in the mines, or a dead volcano in a solar eclipse. There were hundreds of black pictures he could paint and if he wanted to try adding shading that's what the white paint is for.

/\/\

Even young, Virgil knew black was a comforting colour. Occasionally he'd like dark purples, the night sky was perfect for the colours that soothed him.

That was probably why he didn't realise on his eleventh birthday that 2 colours were no longer recognisable from black for him. He'd thought it was only green that vanished; a nice colour but never one of his favourites.

His mom was the one to ask what the second colour was and to explain that the type of connection he'd just had form usually stopped the people connected by it from seeing 2 colours, one important to each of them. She was also the one to pull out his felt tip pens to try and find out which ones he thought were black now.

Even knowing that purple was probably the colour connected to him didn't make Virgil understand the choices. He was most comfortable in black, in darkness that stopped people looking at him and when it fell would bring quieter streets where strangers talking to him could be fought off, rather than needing forced manners to escape.

Now with his own home, and knowing a couple of his soulmates, well Virgil was still sending pictures of tops and hoodies to his family to check they really were completely black, or possibly purple since he wasn't so concerned over wearing purples as he was greens that could be annoyingly bright. Occasionally he'd even double check his jeans and pants were actually black, after an incident in his teenage years where he'd found some cool black jeans, with chains to hook his keys on so they couldn't get lost only to hear as jeers, and comments about a summer look, were actually a purple plaid fabric.

Those pants lived folded on his shelves, waiting for the day Virgil could see colour again and decide if he actually liked them or not.

Frankly in the moment he found himself in, Virgil would very much like to be with those pants, just sat on a shelf at home, not out running an errand he'd put off and encountering a city festival he hadn't heard about before being inside it.

It was the black that caught his eye, squares of black lining part of the pavement in an area that was quieter of people. Virgil had to see what it was all about, and even then was still confused, blinking at the prices in the corners of the black squares.

To one end of the area there was someone painting another black square. He wandered down to them, lips pressing into a scowl as he realised they were actually drawing lines of some pattern. That was either the weirdest amount of effort to put into a black painting, or for whatever reason, this artist was painting entirely in black, green and purple.

“All black like my soul. The hell are you drawing cause it doesn't seem to be selling well?” He grumbled, only to freeze as they looked up and the paint palate in their hands was revealed to be a hurricane of colours, literally all greens and purples swirled together.

“A black bear running through a tire dump on the edge of a city at midnight?” They replied, before frowning down at the page and back at Virgil. “Can I have the blackness back? It's more fun seeing people's reactions when I can't tell what they're reacting to.”

Virgil snickered more from shock than intent. “I'm Virgil, He/him and seriously? You were actually painting pure black pictures and using colours you couldn't see?”

“Remus, he/him and I'll have you know my street art is well-known for it's abstract uses of colour and recognisable through the intriguing uses of purples and greens.” Remus raised the paint-brush towards Virgil in what he initially thought was gesturing with his words, before having a line of purple dripping down his cheek. “And I'd like to have them go back to black if you don't mind.”

“Can't undo a soulmate meeting, you madman. Suffer!” Virgil snickered, making no attempt to wipe the paint off since he had no tissues with him and didn't want to get paint over his hoodie.

“Shame! Pretty sure Pat would have already figure out how to if we could. He thinks trying to wrap a ribbon that refuses to stay solid around someone's neck is too violent. Not that he could actually see anything though.” Remus shrugged, frowning at his painting for a moment, before deciding to place it alongside the others. “Once that's dry I'll add a price to it.”

Virgil looked back over the rest of the artwork, fighting to keep his snickers contained. “I can definitely tell you couldn't tell the difference between colours for all of these. Why on earth would you become an artist when you can't see the colours you're using?”

“Why would I want to see everything the way everyone else can?” Remus countered. “This is great because I got to learn to see an image in my head and paint it without knowing quite how well it was coming out. You can't say my pictures are indistinguishable for what they are!”

“And I can't say there's any type of bear that's purple in sunlight but looks green in shade.” Virgil nodded at the one drying, shaking his head.

Remus beamed at him. “I like you, patchwork purple. Even if you made me see colour again, I think I'm gonna keep you.”

“Glad to hear it.” Virgil agreed, carrying on to look and shake his head at the pictures he could now properly see. They were definitely interesting to say the least and he thought that probably described Remus too.

[hinamie]

"I'll show you every day that choosing to live was worth it"

some of my favourite scenes from @hijinks-n-lowjinks' fic things i would miss from the other side . this fic tore my heart out fr but like in a good way and i wanted to pay it homage the only way i know how <3

[malkwin]

sidgeno + favourite quotes + bi lighting

[wikitpowers]

just saying ty is gonna be blinded by all of kit’s shades; his blue eyes, his golden hair and if he wears that green shirt from the seasons of shadowhunters artwork, ty is going to be truly and royally fucked

[milquetoast27]

oh man I love this show

[kindlespark]

godddddd rereading the canton scene is so fucked up like robin is finally apologising to ramy about hermes with genuine understanding and regret. before that moment he couldn't reconcile babel's bloody foundations with his own enjoyment of it; couldn't grasp how everything he'd worked for had always been this death and exploitation until he saw it with his own eyes. how ramy knows that he's finally opening his eyes to something ramy had known his whole life; that he and robin are tragically, horrifically connected by that web of exploitation, not just through babel but through their own countries that are being forced to serve empire and destroy each other in the process!!! their countries and their lives are irreversibly undeniably caught up in the other's downfall, thrust together by no choice of their own, but by the systems of exploitation that ensure only the british can win. LIKE IS ROBINRAMY NOT THE MOST DOOMED TRAGIC FUCKED UP RELATIONSHIP IN EXISTENCE IM GOING TO THROW UP i just can't get over it i can't get over how robin and ramy as people and as cogs in the imperialist system were given no other choice but to cling to each other in britain, to help each other as the only other boys of colour around, but then to ultimately doom and work against each other and their countries for the crown. im srsly going to pass out and die

[ddagent]

Margo/Sergei + S4 routine

[itshype]

Something I really love in fics is really wild soulmate indicators:

Each person has one terrible joke that only their soulmate will think is funny.

Your soulmate's hardest won skill is your natural talent.

You taste whatever your soulmate eats.

Scar and/or pain sharing.

Soulmate minis (tiny cute representative of your soulmate that only you can see and interact with).

When you touch blood, you get to see their entire life until that point as an invisible ghost offering only comfort.

Share a dreamscape with your soulmate.

[mintcakeart]

even more of Steve, Eddie and Robin sharing a wardrobe bc it itches my brain just right

[braveclementine]

Chapter 25

Warnings: 18+readersonly, oral sex, smut, pet names, King kink

Copyright: I do not own any Marvel characters or locations. However, I do own a few OCs like Elizabeth, Katherine, Stacy, and Jessie. I do not condone any copying of this.

It had been about two weeks since you had gotten back from the Bahamas. That place had seemed like a dream and a second life. Now, everyone was back in the tower- or traveling between the tower and their countries they governed.

T'Challa and you were privately planning a quiet Wakandan ceremony to officially make you the Queen of Wakanda. Every time you talked about the conversation, you wanted to throw up. The idea of becoming a Queen of a country you didn't belong to was uncomfortable to you. You weren't even sure the people there would appreciate you.

Meanwhile, Thor was working his 'God of Fertility' magic, so that though you were having sex with everyone you were soulmated to, hopefully only T'Challa would take root so that he had an heir to the throne. Which, naturally, sped up T'Challa's want for the ceremony.

Shuri, Okoye, and Nakia were also helping plan this ceremony and you mostly took a backseat, really only inputting what you wanted if it came to a certain colour of the plates or flowers.

You weren't allowed to choose the style of your dress either, but you could at least choose the colour. You just told them to match you to T'Challa because you really didn't want to show up in a colour that would clash with his.

In the meantime, you were also trying out a lot of your traits like the archery and using the flexibility to train. Now that you had mechanical knowledge, Tony was even more excited when you came down to the lab because then you could help him with his projects. Not to mention your photographic memory from Stephen- although now you understood why he couldn't be around the Avengers for more than a few hours at the most.

Y/S/N and you hadn't really had a chance to talk yet between everything about your father's death.

Tony had arranged it so that it was a week after you guys had gotten home from the Bahamas. He had everything planned and neither of you had to lift a finger or push over a penny (although apparently now all of Tony's money was yours so-).

But between recovering a week, the funeral, and now planning for a Wakandan marriage ceremony, you had barely been able to even see her, much less talk to her.

Elizabeth had been sending you update texts. Pietro, who had never lived in the tower anyways, had moved down to Ohio along with Hogun. The two of them shared an apartment that was near Elizabeth's house so that they could continue to court her as she finished up her last year of High School. Pietro however, did come back every weekend so that he could spend time with Jessie and Katherine too.

Vision and Wanda were preparing to go down and see her as well, but both of them were unsure of whether they would stay like the other two or not.

Oh! And Heimdall was down there as well- though only for a few weeks- as he was courting Katerina from gymnastics as well. Apparently they met at the wedding and they found out they were soulmates. Neither of them had any other soulmates so that was kind've cute.

After another week, everything was set. You and T'Challa were the first to arrive in Wakanda. You had gaped, looking out the window, seeing everything that they had built. Everything just looked so intricate, advanced, and beautiful.

"I think you'd like to see where Bucky lived after the Avengers disassembled for a little bit." T'Challa's voice was soft next to your ear.

You nodded and then said, "This place is beautiful T."

T'Challa kissed the back of your ear. "Are you nervous my Nkosazana?"

"A little bit. I don't think your people will like me very much." You admitted. "I mean, from what I know, you have very ancient customs and I. . . I'm not." You gave a laugh. "I mean, you're marrying an outsider."

"We can't help where our soulmates live." T'Challa said simply. "And I wouldn't trade you for any of 'em."

You blushed, turning away from the window so that you could snuggle into T'Challa's side until the quinjet landed.

Shuri, Okoye, and T'Challa's mother, Queen Ramonda, was waiting for us along with another set of the dora milaje were waiting on either side.

You quickly hooked your arm around T'Challa's around the two of you walked down the Quinjet ramp to meet them. Shuri was waiting there in a T-shirt, a pair of long pants, a belt wrapped around the both at the same time. Her hair was tied up in space buns, a choker around her neck.

"Y/N!" She squealed, darting forward to throw her arms around you. You could feel yourself relaxing and smiling as you hugged her back.

Queen Ramonda smiled. She was absolutely stunning, wearing some formal white dress and headdress that you wished you knew the name to.

It was also the first time you had seen Okoye in her full red and silver uniform, her spear in hand. She looked on stoically as though you didn't know each other. But she also looked at T'Challa like that, so it was probably just a thing.

"Welcome to Wakanda Princess Y/N." Queen Ramonda said, setting forward to take your hand.

"Thank you Queen Ramonda." You said awkwardly, hoping beyond hope that you were actually allowed to call her that.

T'Challa smiled, hugging his mother. "Come, let us go inside."

He took you inside, Shuri, and his mother following- which didn't feel right. Then you remembered that she wouldn't even be the Queen anymore since you were married to T'Challa. After the ceremony you would be the Queen of Wakanda.

You nearly threw up right then and there.

T'Challa sensed your nerves, moving his arm from yours, to hook it around your waist, pulling you close to his side, kissing the top of your head, "It's going to be fine, even fun, you'll see my Nkosazana."

You nodded. His voice was alluring and you were sure that everything was going to be alright. There was just a small nagging feeling that you couldn't shake. Although you weren't sure what that nagging thing was.

T'Challa showed you around the entire palace, including Shuri's lab. He showed you the specially designed cryo tank that Bucky had been in until Shuri had managed to fix him, getting rid of his trigger words.

After that, T'Challa led you up to the main wing where Dora Milaje lined the hallways and also where the royal bedrooms were.

He opened up the door, letting the both of you into his room.

You looked around in interest. On your left where you entered, there were several tribal decorations as the wall curved. When the wall flattened out to be straight, there were two bookcases in the wall on either side of the two doors, one of which led to the closet and one that led to the bathroom, before the wall curved again and there were more tribal decorations there as well.

The bed was directly across from the room, white sheets and two pillows propped up against the headboard. It was square shaped and lower to the floor than you would have expected.

In the middle of the room, there was some sort of funnel there where four seats sat underneath it.

"It's the hologram table." T'Challa said, noticing you peering at it curiously. He gave a little laugh, "Because even in sleep a King is never not working."

You nodded, looking at the doors that led out onto a large balcony that overlooked the all of Wakanda. They weren't glass or had any curtains to pull out over them. Instead, they seemed to be woven of metal, small slots between them so that when they were pulled closed, decorative patterns would break out on the floor.

Yellow lights hung everywhere, circular in shape, hanging by metal wire of the same colour.

"I like it." You said, turning to T'Challa with a grin. "It's different and it's very you."

T'Challa checked the one and only clock in the room, "Hmm, we have time before dinner." He picked you up in his arms, bridal style, carrying you over the threshold. "You'll have to let Captain Rogers know about that one."

You giggled at T'Challa's playfulness as he brought you over to the bed, laying you down on it carefully before crawling over you. You kissed him excitedly. "Are we trying out the bed my King?"

He chuckled under his breath, making shivers go down your spine. "Indeed we are Nkosazana." He captured your lips in his again, as his hands slipped down to the hem of the dress you had decided to wear to meet his mother and sister in.

He pulled it upwards, letting you sit up a moment so that you could toss the dress over the side of the bed.

T'Challa pinned your hands lightly above your head with one hand, slowly and sensually kissing up your body. You could feel every spot that his lips lingered. You closed your eyes, lips parted slightly as you felt him press another low kiss right above your belly button.

You flickered your eyes open again as you felt his fingers undo the clasp of your bra, pulling it from your body to join the dress on the floor.

You let out a tiny mewl as his lips wrapped around your nipple. You rubbed your thighs together, wishing that you could get some sort of friction from him. But you also knew that T'Challa was not one to tease either.

"Patience Nkosazana," He murmured, teeth grazing over your now erect nipple, moving over to the other.

Your chest heaved as he finished with your breasts, before moving up to kiss you again. You smiled up at him as he pulled back. He grinned down at you before he pulled your knickers down your legs, tossing them behind him.

He hooked your legs over his shoulders, releasing the hold on your hands as he buried himself in your weeping pussy.

"T!" You gasped, moaning at the feeling of his cool tongue against your hot core, licking you, tasting you. "Oh fuck!"

You could feel his smile, his cheeks growing a little as his smile widened. His hands were firm around your thighs to hold you still. Your hands were gripping the pillow by your head as your orgasm started to build up inside of you. "T I'm gonna-"

"Go ahead my Nkosazana." T'Challa murmured against your lower lips, vibrations pushing you over the cliff, the waterfall dripping down, T'Challa licking up every drop you gave him.

He slowly lowered your legs from his shoulders as you came down from the slight high. He stroked himself a few times before he moved his tip through your wet folds, collecting your slick, before pushing in.

You both moaned at the lovely feeling. Your arms came up, sliding your hands behind the back of his head, pulling him into a kiss as he started to move through you. His hands came down, fingers sliding smoothly down your shoulders as he caressed you tenderly.

Your breaths came out in quick pants as he sped up a little, both of your foreheads together sweetly as he made love to you. "T. . ." You whimpered as the next orgasm came upon you. He sighed in content, "Y/N."

After you both collapsed on the bed, he pulled out of you before heading off to the bathroom to grab a wet washcloth, taking care of you.

"Now then." He said, once you both dressed in fresh, new clothes. "I think we should go downstairs and grace the citizens with our presence, shall we?"

You giggled. You were much more relaxed now that you had spent some time here, "We shall, my King."

[anxiouslyfred]

Connections - Royality

Summary: A world of various soulmate connections forming at different ages, The sides need to navigate each having multiple types of soulmate connections and finding each other. Patton and Roman cope with being unable to see red and blue until they meet one night at the theatre.

Eventual DRLAMP

/\/\

The year before, Roman had spent ages laughing and occasionally taunting Remus when his brother lost 2 colours from his sight. It wasn't so funny now, when on what he could only assume was this soulmates 11th Birthday, he found himself just seeing black for the sash he was certain should look red, and the sky outside just as dark despite being a clear, sunny day. It definitely made the clouds more fascinating than they had been against blue skies for some bright side.

It took a few moments before the 12 year old decided the best course of action was to circle the date on the calendar and note what had happened. Perhaps he could use knowing their birthday to find them in a few years. Roman was sure there had to be a way to find them from that.

/\/\

Patton would tell people that she'd always liked pastel colours and that her second soulmate had no impact at all on her choice of clothes. In reality though, it was simply easier to recognise blacks that others would see as pale blues when looking at clothes sections filled with other pastel colours and he did actually like the types of clothes that came in those shades.

The biggest thing Patton missed was actually seeing all the colours flowers could bloom but he would carry on gardening while he wasn't allowed to study animal care. There were plenty of creatures to be met outside among the plants anyway, and at least there the spiders would blend in or be hidden from his view in their homes rather than his.

Patton was resolute that life should be just as colourful with 2 colours subtracted from it as it was before and if people disputed that then she'd just have to find more flowers to grow, more wonderful animals to study and learn about.

/\/\

The amateur dramatics group was Roman's favourite thing. Of course he loved the school performances he could join, but for those he kept being put in the older roles, letting younger students fill the parts of other characters and honestly, Roman could only enjoy playing a wizard so many times.

It was even better because the costume department at school had little flexibility to fit outfits to actor preferences but the costumers with the amateur dramatics group asked him about his own colour preferences for outfits before making sure they'd fit the performance being rehearsed. It was wonderful to know that even years after his favourite colour in childhood was removed from his sight he could be wearing it to perform in.

Tonight was opening night for their performance and he was ready to steal the show.

/\/\

Patton had tried. He'd tried to convince his family to leave him out of this outing, and then attempted to feign sickness when that hadn't worked. She just didn't see the point of watching a play when the lighting and occasionally costumes could leave sections completely black to her.

It had happened before that her sibling would be leaning forwards in awe, whispering about how lovely a scene is while Patton's is squinting and hoping he's following the scene properly from the words since red or blue lights means he can't see the stage for the moment. Tonight he assumed it would be more of the same and no matter how interested she was in the play, she just didn't want to go through that again. At least with her flowers there were always other colours to look at around the black shapes.

Still, he'd been brought here and was going to try his best to enjoy the show.

That became a lot easy and immensely more difficult when during the second scene a character looked out to the audience just before being addressed for the first time and met Patton's eyes.

The black outfit draining to become red was the first thing to have Patton gasping, and he was soon turning in his seat, looking around and back to the actor, shocked to see they weren't showing any of the shock and joy he was going through.

The play was going on as normal, the character sassing a shop owner before agreeing to help with an errand. Her father however was leaning around her sibling frowning. A sharp point down to her seat and jab toward the stage was enough to tell her that if she didn't sit back down and pay attention to the show she'd likely be grounded for all the months until she left for college.

/\/\

Roman collapsed into a seat as soon as he was off stage from his first scene, looking around at the props and costumes of the other actors. It felt like he'd been fighting his reaction for hours rather than a few moments and was entirely happy that he'd managed to stay in character even while the audience had black clothes draining out to reveal blues and reds.

His soulmate was out there. They were sat in the audience, and he could peek through the curtains to try and find which seat. “Remus.” He muttered, too used to his brother attempting to sneak up on him after breaking into back-stage to be shocked at a presence behind him. “You need to ask for an announcement to be made. The person sat in Row E, seat 12 is requested back-stage on the interval. If they ask why it needs making say Roman can see all the colours again.”

“Not here to take orders from you. Why don't I shove you through the curtain and into the audience now? Quicker introduction that way!” Remus suggested, only lightly shoving his back, not enough for Roman to actually stumble.

“You know how close our parents are to trying to kick you out. Have you saved up enough for that to happen yet?” He felt bad bringing that up, neither of them liking the comparisons that had been getting more pointed recently, but needed the play to go well, just as much as he needed to actually meet that person.

Remus laughed, “Not yet, but nearly there. I'm gonna go out with a BANG!” It's odd hearing a quiet yell, but Remus had always been able to manage it. “I'll get your announcement made.” He'd vanished before Roman could turn to thank him.

/\/\

“You caused trouble so you can go and face it now.” Patton's father sounded grave as he turned to her, but she was fairly sure trouble wasn't the reason for her seat to have sounded from the tannoy. She only held her hand out for the ticket her father was bringing out of his pockets.

He nodded anyway. “Of course. I'll make all the apologies needed, just as you saw me doing to those sat around us once the lights went up.”

Leaving his family, it was easy to head to reception, show his ticket and ask how to get to back-stage. They were smiling at him so he assumed the actor must have said something in requesting the announcement, but didn't ask anything more after giving him the directions.

“Are you my bluebird?” The rouge was stood just behind the door of back-stage when Patton walked through it, looking for them.

She smiled, nodding. “I guess I am, if you're my rosebud.”

“Roman at your service, he/him pronouns. What's your name, lovely?” He bowed to her, managing to keep her attention away from the hustle that was back-stage.

“Patton, she/he pronouns. You're more eloquent than your character.” He stated, wondering if he could make some puns yet or if his soulmate would need to start getting ready for the next act.

The five minute call delayed any reply, but Roman shrugged as he straightened up. “Of course. One might portray anyone on stage, but how one carries themselves off it is wear the most important impressions are made. But you best be returning to your companions now, while I prepare for the stage once more.”

“Let's meet for hot chocolate tomorrow! The theatre cafe, maybe?” Patton suggested, doubting they'd be seeing each other after the show given his father usually had reservations for immediately after shows.

“I'll be there for 3pm.” Roman promised, bowing again as she turned to leave back-stage once more.

[tilescel]

That the universe was made just to be seen by my eyes

-

[clumsycapitolunicorn]

"Yeah. Uh, Field Of Dreams? I guess ya'll don't really like baseball here, so why would you like movies about it?"

[forcedhesitation]

mr. hux. hello... mr. hux

[dreamieparadise]

What Colour Is Your Love?

Tagged by @mimiruku

Tagging: anyone who wants to do this! But specifically calling out @discendia @cloudvaria @nagobeifong because I'm curious 🤭

Momina is...

bright sunny yellow

Sweet tasting popsicles, summer dresses and shielding your eyes from the sun.

Your love is the excitement of something brewing, something growing. It's the almost childish bubbling giggles of something new, but with the potential to stay. It's wide smiles, blinding sunny light and warm bodies that gravitate to one another. It's the the softness, the willingness, the slight holding of breaths in a crucial "what if" moment.

It's the impatience too. The bouncing on tiptoes to see further than your eyes can reach, the holding out for a future that never seems to come even though you're ready, you're so so so ready. It's the constant feeling of warm sand beneath your feet, holding out for the crashing waves. And still you wait, dry and impatient and with burnt soles of feet. Your love is sour candy, enjoying it as your nose scrunches up from the aftertaste of it. It's hands that grab and take hold, that reach and ask them to stay and hope and beg and wait.

It's bubbling excitement sure, but it's also demanding, focused, driven.

It's love like a plan, with a path and route and a clear destination. And you bonce on your tiptoes, and burning, waiting for the soothing water, the crashing waves, you hold onto the melting popsicle, you wait and wait and wait. It's tiring almost as much as it's lazer focused ambition, deeply rooted desire and the unrelenting hope that it will work, that it will come. And it does, I promise it does.

The waves crash, the beach floods and the pain passes, the water cool and soothing and you can let yourself fall in, sinking, sinking. And it's good, it's perfect, what you were hoping and more, holding and embracing you and welcoming you into the stillness you always knew you were reaching for.

[strawbubbysugar]

If ya don’t mind me asking, what color is Matt and DJMM’s string?

How Matt sees it:

How the DJ sees it: