#soulmark tattoo

[be-the-glenn-to-my-maggie]

A locorro soulmate au would be so interesting, image lo’ak is born and on his arm is “miles socorro” who knows how neytiri would act😭

BRO THE WAY I DROPPED EVERYTHING TO ANSWER THIS ASK.

Okay so the Na'vi don't have written language, it's all oral. So like, if the soulmate au is a tattoo of the person who is your soulmate at birth, a name would be distinctly human. Maybe the Na'vi don't have soulmate tattoos OR they have a symbol for the person, like maybe their spirit animal that they see in their Uniltaron?

So first of all the lORE IMPLICATIONS ALONE?? Jake being born with no name just some crazy dragon on his leg (I like to imagine Neytiri's spirit animal is an ikran) and everyone is just like shrug, weird man. Jake's is toruk in the deleted scenes, so I imagine Neytiri's tattoo would just be toruk and she didn't think anything of it until Jake, because she knows full well Tsu'tey's is not toruk.

BUT LO'AK'S BEING JUST "Miles Socorro" FUCKING CRAZY DUDE. Jake sees and is like oh fuck. Because there's no mystery like there usually is for Na'vi, or for humans who have a billion in one chance to actually meet their soulmate. Lo'ak and Spider just know they are soulmates from the jump, and everyone just gets to vibe with that knowledge and adjust how they can. Mo'at is like *nods* the great mother knows they need each other, and Neytiri is losing it in the corner because now her son, already set apart from even his sibling with his human features, is even further ostracized. I think Neytiri is pissed about it for a while and then she just comes to a point where she is like "soulmates are chosen by Eywa, she can't be wrong so we'd better make sure this kid is immersed in the culture. Cue Spider growing up hardcore Na'vi, doing every rite of passage that he can. Neytiri is his firm teacher, especially when Lo'ak is little and Spider is just old enough to start learning. She starts to love him because of his dedication, his enthusiasm, and the way they gravitate to each other even as little kids.

God I love this idea I see so much potential drama in it I could go on forever? But I need to chill.

[sinnamonpork]

soulmate au where every inch of Touya's skin is marked with color, all coming from his family to the league to even the various people he had met on the run. He gets easily attached, he can't help the physical proof of his care for them even if it's embarrassing when the League - especially Toga - finds out he's a walking watercolor palette beneath the emo coat.

Enter Hawks, skin clean of any soulmark, who doesn't let himself relax around other people and would sooner sabotage his own relationships before anything could form. He and Dabi are total opposites, but there's still something at their every interaction. Could be hate. Could be love. Could be sexual tension. Who knows?

Anyways, Dabi who immediately got a mark for Hawks in the first month of meeting him - the giant bright red wings on his back makes it obvious who it's for. In contrast to Hawks, who doesn't even get a mark even when they finally get together. And no matter how guilty or how much he wants to bare his heart to the villain, he can't force things like that. So he just has to deal with the disappointment that crosses Dabi's face whenever he maps out his skin or the betrayal in those eyes when the first mark on his skin came from Tokoyami. Lots of angst, lots of misunderstandings, lots of communication issues but it all ends with Hawks exploring all the stories that Dabi's skin possesses, with Dabi reaching back to trace the blazing blue sapphires trailing down his heart, looking like chains at a distance.

[letsgolandoo]

reader pairing: bucky barnes x reader

summary: they're soulmates and have their first words to each other tattooed on their skin.

warnings: swearing

Fuck you.

Those were the words tattooed on her skin. Those were the first words her soulmate would say to her when they first met. Y/N would have done absolutely anything to change what would stay on her side until her soulmate either met her and said those words, or died.

It wasn't because she couldn't tell whether it would be a "Fuck you!" while yelling, or a "Fuck, you are gorgeous," which would be strange for a first meeting, seeing as it sounds more like something that would be said during sexual intercourse.

It was because "Fuck you," was such a popular phrase, that she would have multiple people a week directing it at her. And each time she would check her tattoo to see whether it had faded or not, but it never did.

Y/N was tired of it. She was nearing her twenty-ninth birthday and she still hadn't found her soulmate. What was frustrating was that all her friends had found their soulmates when they were in both High School and college, and none of them had a tattoo like that.

So Y/N was on a walk, walking in front of people slowly and dodging others at the last second to see if anyone said the words. They did, that was certain. But none of them made the tattoo vanish.

After walking pointlessly around New York for an hour, she decided to go home. She didn't even know if her soulmate lived in New York. Her phone was out as she texted Steve, telling him that she would be over at his soon.

It was the one day of the year where everyone celebrated that they had found their soulmate, but it was the one day that Steve really needed a friend around for support. He had found his soulmate in 1940, but he had been frozen for about seventy years just a few years later. When he woke up, Peggy was an inch away from death, lying in a hospital bed. But then she was dead, and he was lost. When a soulmate dies, there isn't another. There's only one in a lifetime.

Just as she sent the text to Steve, she walked right into a wall. At least she thought it was a wall. However, the wall said, "Fuck you," and put its hands on her shoulders before asking if she was okay.

Y/N looked up and saw the most beautiful man she had ever seen. He was just over six foot tall with stunning steel-blue eyes that she could have stared into all day and not have been bored. He had fluffy brunette hair that was combed neatly and he was clean-shaven.

Her tattoo slowly faded.

But Y/N just laughed. She straight up laughed in the man's face, shrugging her shoulders out of his grip and taking a step back. "Oh. So you're the motherfucker who gave me the worst soulmark known to man. I've had "Fuck you," tattooed on my skin for twenty nine fucking years and I've been laughed at and bullied for it. Even when I'm having sex I get questioned about it."

The brunette raised an amused eyebrow. "Well, imagine having that fucking essay written on you."

"Right, sorry about that. I'm Y/N L/N. Great to meet you."

"Bucky Barnes. Likewise."

[grimalkinmessor]

Oh nothing just thinking about the angst potential of a Matsulight soulmate AU where the last words your soulmate says to you are emblazoned on your skin, and the fact that Matsuda would be branded with "I know you understand, so shoot them!", labelling him as a killer from birth, while Light's would read a damning "I'll kill you!" leading him to fear anyone that could even remotely cause his death, both of them completely resigned to their soulmate hating them and abandoning the thought before they've ever even met

[tennessoui]

love your new silly soulmate au idea, but how do those idiots eventually realize that they’re soulmates and that they had met before?

(this au)

honestly ok i am imagining....idk if we're going the route of they have this exchange but neither realize they're soulmates because they're both so tired and cranky, and then meet later and fall in love without knowing.........

either they never find out they're soulmates and just decide they're not going to look for their soulmate because they're already in love, or idk....lol maybe a tiktok is being filmed in the background when they first meet and ahsoka sends it to them and you can just hear that first exchange??? or they remember each other now that they have the prompt there

and the idiots are like 'i guess our words DO sorta match.....'

[acewithapen]

I've got this new tattoo, it reminds me of you

Hi!! Welcome to my fic for Keefitz Week 2023! Thank you so much to Summer (@when-wax-wings-melt) and Avery (@skylilac) for hosting this!! Tragically, I did not finish all of the chapters in time, so keep an eye out!

Read on ao3 here!!

A mix of the prompts, hence the. multichap part.

Keefe Sencen was a maker of bad decisions. Quite frequently, as his friends loved to remind him. In his freshman year of college, his (former) best friend Fitz Vacker had suggested being roommates for their second year. Keefe had enthusiastically agreed. 

But then they’d had a falling out over the summer. And he’d forgotten that they’d put in a request to room together. So there he was: Keefe Sencen, 19 years old, clutching a box (that had all of his decorations) as he stared at Fitz. Fitz who’d changed since July, skin darker and freckles more prominent. And fuck. His hair now had a teal streak that matched the colored contacts he wore. Keefe fought back the blush, and gave him a nervous grin. 

“Hey, Fitz.”

“Keefe.”

“Keefe! Hey, how’s your summer been?” Thank god for Biana. If she noticed anything wrong, she didn’t say anything, just looping an arm around his shoulders to ruffle his hair. 

“Pretty good! You?”

She shrugged, pale cream shirt contrasting beautifully with her skin. “Alright.” She had a dark red streak in her curls, matching Fitz’s. “We went to the beach a lot. Speaking of which! You should come with us on Saturday! There’s one super close, and I think everyone else is free!” 

“I’ll clear my schedule.”

“Clear what? You don’t do anything!” 

“Hey! I’ll have you know I am a very busy man—” 

She cut him off with a laugh, eyes scrunching up from her grin. “Mhm, sure. Anyway, Fitz, you’re all good, yeah?”

He looked up from where he was putting books on his shelf. “Yep. See you later.”

“Have fun! I love you, don’t be stupid.” Biana hugged her brother, and then darted back to give him a quick squeeze. “I’ll see you on Saturday!” She blows them each a kiss and flounces out of the room, shutting the door behind her. 

“Right…I—I’m gonna go get my bedding.” Keefe fled, leaving the box behind. He grabbed the laundry bag and his pillow, and leaned back against his car. This was such a bad idea. 

Back in their dorm, he unpacked, made his bed, and set up his lights. He’d texted Fitz the week before, the first time they’d spoken since…That Day. He pushed the discomfort aside, and focused on getting his lights to be perfect. They had a bulletin board in between the beds, and he had decided to put a set around it. The lights are star shaped, connected by thin copper wires. He risked a look at Fitz’s side. He had slipped out, claiming dinner plans with his parents. (Keefe called bullshit, but only internally. Alden and Della had gotten divorced in their 6th grade year, and the two tried to stay away from each other.) 

He glanced at the black bookshelf Fitz had brought, already filled with books. Keefe noted with a slight pang of sadness that he hadn’t brought any of the books they’d annotated together. But it was fine. Totally fine. 

He’d eventually settled into his bed, climbing up the ladder. Fitz had taken the lower bed. Something ached in his chest. Fitz remembered. He remembered how much Keefe hated sleeping close to the ground, so accustomed to curling up far above the floor. 

The door slid open and shut, Fitz left in an exhausted slump. He eyed him. Fitz ran his hands through his hair, head against the door. 

“…Fitz? Are you okay…?” Maybe dinner with his parents had actually happened. Fuck. 

“Keefe? You’re here?” 

He couldn’t ignore the sharp concern anymore and scrambled down the ladder. Fitz blinked at him blearily, faded tear tracks on his cheeks. 

“Yeah. C’mon, let’s get you in bed, okay?” He fell into a similar routine, born of many years. Fitz had always been like this after extended time with Alden. (Keefe had promised to never let Alden near him again, after the last time this happened. Just another way he failed.) 

Fitz stumbled after him, falling face down on his bed. 

“Okay, I know. Do you mind if I help you change? You’re gonna complain if you wake up in jeans.”

He mumbled something, and gave a slight nod. 

“Great!” Keefe rummaged for a pair of pajama pants and a soft pajama shirt—one that proclaimed him as the captain of their Academic Decathlon team, Vacker in bold letters across the back. He helped him into the pants and shirt, and pulled the soft comforter over him. “Sleep well.” 

Keefe left the room. It was just so confusing. They fought, but that was his best friend, but they had screamed until they lost their voices, but he had grown up next to him, and just…ugh. 

He wandered the halls for a while, familiarizing himself with the new dorms. He recognized some of the people, but Foxfire was massive. He followed one of the hallways, nearly tripping over someone. “Oh! My bad, wait. Dex…?” 

The one in question blinked up at him, eyes wide. “Keefe? What are you doing here?”

“I live here. You?”

“Oh, I was helping Tam move in. I live in Onyx.”

Keefe had lived there last year, and he winced in sympathy. “Good luck, dude. You’ll need it.”

“Dex? Is something wrong?” Tam poked his head out, bangs redyed silver. 

“Oh, no! I found Keefe though!” Dex gestured towards him, and Keefe smiled awkwardly. Things had always been…odd around Tam. There was some tension between the two of them, and he hadn’t been able to put his finger on it during high school, and he presumably wouldn’t be able to do it now. 

“Right…who are you rooming with?”

His smile felt painted on. “Fitz.”

Tam’s eyebrows twitched up, and he shared a quick glance with Dex. “Mmm. Well. I’m going to finish setting up.” Tam went back inside. Dex gave him an apologetic smile. 

“I’m gonna go too. You’re going to the thing on Saturday, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Awesome! See you then!” Dex gave him a cheerful grin and vanished into Tam’s room. Left alone, Keefe sighed and trudged back to his dorm. Fitz was asleep, and he changed into his own pajamas, keeping the lights off. 

It’s barely 10, but god, he’s exhausted. 

He woke up the next morning to Fitz’s incessant alarm clock, a familiar sound from junior high and high school sleepovers also known as when Keefe would be kicked out. 

Keefe yawned, and it’s second nature to groan good naturedly at Fitz. “Dude, turn it off.” One loud smack later, and he’d drifted back off to sleep. 

He was rudely awakened just a few minutes later. Fitz’s alarm blared again, and he let out a loud complaint. 

“Up and at ‘em, Keefe! You need to get ready.” Curse Fitz and his incessant morning person-ness. 

“Ugh. Fine, but I get the bathroom first.”

Fitz grumbled, but acquiesced, and Keefe slipped inside before he could. That was the nice thing about living in Ruby Hall was that they had attached bathrooms, unlike Onyx where you had to go to the end of the hall. 

He showered as quickly as possible and went back to the main room, dressed in a pair of black pants and a pale green shirt. Fitz slid past him, not saying a word. He sidestepped the already growing pile of shoes to go to his desk, pushed neatly under his bed. 

Keefe sat down, flicking the lights to his mirror. He pushed gel through his hair, making it artfully messy. Once he was done, he turned on his hairdryer, carefully drying his hair. Sophie had made fun of him whenever he was over for group sleepovers, as he had almost always borrowed hers. Well. It wasn’t his fault she didn’t really care about her appearance. He had standards! 

The bathroom door opened and shut, signaling Fitz’s return. He didn’t turn to look, intent on getting his concealer blended out. The habit had started in high school, when he was regularly pulling all-nighters. And so there he was. 

After that, he checked the time. The alarm went off at 7:30, and his first class was at 9, just down the road, in the Topaz Fine Arts Center. As the name suggested, Topaz housed all of the fine arts, other than the auditorium. (That was next door, known as the Gemstone Theater.) It was just now 8:30, and if he hurried, he could swing by the coffee shop for a quick breakfast. 

“Okay, bye Fitz, see you!” He grabbed his backpack and rushed out. He didn’t bother getting his car, instead running down the road to the coffee shop.

“Oh! Keefe, hey! Haven’t seen you in a while,” Marella enthused. 

“Hey, Marella! Can I—”

“Large iced mocha and sausage egg sandwich?” 

“Yep! Thank you!” He paid her, before sliding to the pick up counter. Linh brought over his order, giving him a gentle smile. “Good morning, Keefe.” 

“Hey, Linh! How was your summer?”

“It was good. You’re coming Saturday, yes?”

“Mhm! I’ll see tomorrow morning, probably.”

“Good. Have a good class!”

“Thanks, Linh! Bye!” He dashed out the door, clutching his coffee. His first class of the day was with Prof. Palmore. She taught graphic design, and generally didn’t care if students ate in her class, especially since it went from 9 to 11:30. 

Keefe waved at a few students he recognized, before entering Topaz. It was nice to be back. Quietly he walked down the hall, making sure to not disturb the other classrooms. Most of the campus generally didn’t care, but he’d seen someone cry from too much noise during the second week last year. Generally, it was just a good idea to not bother people. 

Prof. Palmore’s door was open, the woman in question sitting behind her desk. She didn’t have a typical lecture hall, instead setting up shop in the computer lab. 

“Good morning, Keefe.”

“Hey, Prof! How are you?”

“I’m doing well. How about you?”

“Pretty good! Still waiting for the caffeine to kick in.” 

She smiles at him, and he grins back. “Well, why don’t you go ahead and pick a seat? We’ll be jumping right in this year, since this class is solely for recurring students.” 

He nods and takes his seat. Other students slowly trickled in, taking seats around the computer lab. He’s in the back corner, at his favorite computer. Most everyone sticks to the middle and up, but he’d found this spot last year. Sue him, he was attached. 

Sophie dropped into the seat next to him, clutching a massive container of coffee. She looked exhausted, eye bags ever present. 

“Good morning!” 

“Don’t talk to me.” 

She had been taking classes here since high school, testing into the dual credit programs. Plus, their graphic design class always ended with the class here, so you could start your second year of the course as a freshman. 

He took another sip of his coffee and watched as she upended a can of Monster into it. “Soph, it’s day one.” 

She didn't respond. 

His next class was at two, so he swung by to a little hole in the wall diner. Known as The Canteen, it served the best pasta he’d ever had. Inside, one of the workers from last year was there. Ophelia gave him a wide grin, reaching over to give him an elbow bump. “It’s the Keefester! How’ve you been?”

“I’ve been good! Definitely looking forward to some more of your pesto chicken.” 

She snorts and motions him to follow her. She seats him at his table (again, one of his favorites), and pulls out her notepad. “So. Water, pesto and chicken pasta?”

“Yep! You know me so well,” he laughs and bats his eyelashes. She rolls her eyes playfully and saunters off. He messes around on his phone while he waits, texting back and forth with Biana. She sends him a snap, making half a heart with her fingers. He snaps her back, making the other half. His food arrives a few minutes later and he digs in. 

It’s just as good as he recalls, and soon he’s paying for his meal. His next class—Calculus—is in Peridot, down by the library. The “core” buildings (science, math, english, history) form a loose ring around it, and it’s…fairly common to see someone run from a building to the library and back again. 

He refills his water bottle inside and double checks the room number. It’s taught by a…Professor Glade, so that should be fun. 

Keefe walks in, smiles at the teacher, and goes to sit down. It’s filling up fast, and he makes a note to arrive early to get a good seat. They just go over the syllabus and he makes idle chatter with the person next to him. Their name is Sage, they have bright pink and black box braids, and quite possibly the funniest person he’s ever met. (Excluding himself, of course.) 

They exchange numbers and he waves as he leaves, intent on going back to his dorm. He needs to wrap up an assignment for his graphic design class, properly go over the syllabi he got, and draft up a schedule with Fitz. 

He makes it back to his dorm, relocks the door and kicks his shoes off. At his desk, he pulls out his highlighters and the syllabus from Calc. 

A little past 5, Fitz falls through the door. Okay, not exactly, but definitely close enough. He looks murderous. 

Keefe quickly looks back down. Before summer break, he would have watched. But now…he goes back to reading, making small notes in the margins. Sophie had gifted him a copy of the three books of the Pentecost & Parker series, and he thinks he has solved it when their door bursts open again. 

It’s Tam, who throws a bag at Keefe. “Here’s your stuff.” He leaves just as quickly as he came, door slamming behind him. 

“What was that about?”

“I asked for my stuff back. I guess it works.” The two of them had had a…less than stellar breakup over spring break last year. It had been messy. And dramatic. And hella awkward. 

He opened the bag, pulling out the books and the hoodie. Plus a pair of sweatpants that he’d completely forgotten about. His phone went off and he cursed. “I have to get to the tattoo parlor. I’m working till closing tonight, so I’ll try to not wake you up.”

He bolted out the door, down to his car. It’s a quick drive, and soon he’s pulling into the lot. Renee gives him a grin from behind the counter, wearing a sleeveless shirt that shows off the tattoos on her arms. 

“Hey, Renee! How was your summer?”

“It was great! You?”

“It was alright. Do I have anything scheduled?” 

She flips through the logbook. “Two. A mother and daughter here for a basic ear piercing and two people for noses. They’re together. Walkins?”

“That’ll work.” 

She nods, reaching over to get the phone as it rings. “Hi, this is Sea of Ink, how can I help you today?” He hands her a pen and the legal pad, and she gives him a distracted smile. “Mhmmm. We do have a piercer, yes. We’re open all evening, but he won’t be available from 6 to 7. How does 8 sound?” A pause. “Excellent! We’ll see you then!” 

“What do they want?” 

“Helix. Anyway, I’ll be taking my 15 at 7. Do you want me to bring dinner for you?”

“Ooh, yeah sure. How ‘bout Jerry’s?”

“Sounds awesome, I’ll text you my order.” He heads to the back, going to wash his hands and get his supplies. 

It’s a fairly uneventful time. Closing shift is always really chill, especially once Victoria arrives. Her bangs are still white, but she’s dyed her hair a dark blue, and gotten an industrial. It has a rainbow sheen, to no one’s surprise. 

They don’t have many appointments, and Victoria has a firm no walkins policy. Renee hasn’t ever had a problem with telling someone to fuck off if they disrespect that, so they’re all set. 

At ten to eight, he’s sitting on the loveseat, feet up on the seat. He’s reading again, this one a gift from Della. It’s part of a box set of Blood of Olympus series. This time, it’s the Mark of Athena. He’s afraid to write his little notes on the page, so instead he has a stack of sticky notes and tabs. 

Renee is sitting behind the reception counter, a textbook cracked open. Victoria lounges in one of the armchairs, drawing on her iPad. The bell rings as someone walks inside, and he flinches as he looks up. Fitz is here, looking ridiculously out of place. 

“Hi, I’m Fitz Vacker. I work at the new flower shop, you know, the one down the road? It’s called Bouquet Boutique? Anyway, I wanted to give you a bouquet, if you want it.” 

Renee hurries over to take the bouquet, which is made up of pale blue and cream flowers. “Thank you so much!! I’m Renee Bright, and that’s Victoria Parsons. Welcome to Sea of Ink, and we offer a discount to shops on the road. Oh, and that’s one of our piercers, Keefe Sencen!” 

“I thought you said you had to work…?”

“This is my job…?” 

The two stare at each other, before Fitz flushes and turns away. “I should head back, but it was nice meeting you!”

“Same here! See you around, Fitz!” Renee waves cheerfully before she turns to him. “How do you know him?”

Victoria lets out an incredulous laugh. “Dude, you can’t just ask him why they know each other, oh my god.” 

She holds her hands up. “That came out wrong! All I meant was that he doesn’t seem like your…type.”

“My…type?”

“Yeah! I mean, he’s not exactly the kind of person you typically date, yeah?”

“I…we aren’t together!” He can feel his cheeks heating up. 

“Oh. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to assume—”

He waves her off. “It’s fine. I should get ready for my next appointment, okay?”

She nods, lips pursed. His client comes in though, clearly used to this. He does it quickly, adding to the piercings slowly climbing up their ears. 

And then he stays until nine, reading and joking around with Renee and Victoria. And that’s that. Rinse, repeat, huh?

-------

Thank you so much for reading!!! I hope you liked it! This has been so much fun to write!

[glitterinlowgravity]

I'm thinking about mighty nein soulmate AUs, and lucien and molly obviously having different ones and different marks representing them, and how they're the only tattoos from before molly that he's able to cover up

[temp-says-hello-hellsite]

Current Brainrot: Soulmate AUs where the mark moves when your soulmate touches you.

[eddywoww]

I know literally all soulmate mark fics have been done (tw: scarification and abuse)

But I’m imagining one where Steve has a mark and it’s fucking huge on his forearm. It says “Are you okay?” And his mom absolutely hates it. She glares at it when it pops up when he’s only eight years old and she won’t stop talking about it, won’t let it go.

She wants it gone.

So she pays to have it lazered off. Steve hates the process, cries before and during and after because he’s only a little boy and it hurts so badly.

But it doesn’t work. The phrase only pops up somewhere new. On his ankle. It’s a little smaller but it’s the same phrase. He tries to hide it this time but it’s no use, his mom spots it at a clothes fitting. Being rich meant that he had little to no privacy growing up.

She takes him to a different place this time and the process is even worse and Steve wishes they’d get better at it. Soulmarks aren’t like tattoos. The process is much more painful even than that. And poor Steve doesn’t get why he can’t have it, why his mom doesn’t want him to have it.

He would figure out later that she only wanted to control everything aspect of his life. The next time it pops up, she gets more egregious. Wants it to be cut out of his skin. Steve sobs the night before, knows it’ll scar so much worse on the meat of his bicep. He hates it, hates that she won’t let him have this and he just doesn’t understand. He keeps hoping it’ll show up somewhere she won’t find it.

After many failed tries, it finally does.

Steve almost doesn’t believe it when he finds the phrase, as tiny as possible, on the sole of his foot. He hides it. He wears socks, he tries his best to make sure his mom never sees it. He spends his teenage years trying harder and harder to get away from her. Stealing and saving money, making sure she can’t keep him locked away anymore.

Steve runs away eventually. Ends up going to college and buying goodwill furniture and getting a part time job and-

But it’s rough because he’s always been sort of shut in. A pretty ornament for his mom to show off at parties and galas. He didn’t spend much time around other kids. So school makes him nervous. Anxious to a startling degree.

It happens on a normal Tuesday. He’s in the campus lunchroom, a tray in hand. It’s shaking, his drink nearly spilling as he tries to make his way through the moving mass of students. It’s too much, all his senses firing at one hundred or more.

And then it happens. He almost drops the tray as someone bumps into him, only to grab Steve by the elbows, turning big brown eyes and curly hair toward him. A boy. A very attractive, apologetic looking boy.

Steve was mesmerized before he even opened his mouth.

“Are you okay?” The boy asks in shock. “I didn’t mean to almost knock you down, man. That’s my bad.”

Steve stares at him like he’s just seen the sun for the first time.

“I like your hair,” He says, because he can’t think of anything else to say and he really does.

Eddie Munson nearly drops him a second time. Just behind his ear, he too wears a phrase. Unscarred and unmarked. He has no problem showing it to Steve right there in their busy campus lunchroom.

“I like your hair.”

Eddie might be without Steve’s scars but he has some of his own. A life well lived, not very far from Steve. They don’t lament over lost time. After all, it was meant to be.

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

1.2k / 18 / soap soulmate au, part 1

...

You're Soap's enemy. One of Graves' Shadows. You just betrayed him, and now he's seeing his name tattooed across your skin. The Las Almas night nearly eclipses the soulmark's inky color. But it's there, clear as day. He can't wrap his adrenaline-addled mind around it.

He ghosts up behind where you're posted--pacing, patrolling, on the lookout for him--and wraps his hand around your mouth. You react in surprise, grabbing his wrist. But before you can twist out of his grasp, he slides the blade of your fallen Shadow's knife against your back.

If you're his soulmate, it changes nothing. He'll still be one man against dozens, chances slim to none that he'll make it out of this alive. But he has to know.

"You," he growls. "What's your name?"

You still. You're trained to keep a cool head under far more extreme circumstances than this.

"Your name," Soap repeats, voice like gravel.

He loosens his grip just enough to let you speak.

You release a slow breath out. "Classified."

He increases the pressure of his knife against your back. "That bastard Graves trusts you, aye? Not many others posted this way. Nobody'll find you for awhile." He presses the tip of the knife back into the fabric of your uniform. He'll keep the pressure there until he gets what he wants. "Your full name."

You say nothing for a long moment. But then, you see no reason to die overlooking these twisting Las Almas alleyways. You tell him your full name.

It confirms what he already knows. It's the name printed on his own skin, the name he's repeated to himself thousands of times over. The knife disappears from your back.

"Look at me," he tells you.

You push his arm away and turn on him, drawing your sidearm and training it at his chest. You step back, looking him up and down. "You're the one we're looking for. Aren't you? Capture or kill--" Your voice falters when you see he pulls his shirtsleeve up, revealing his own soulmate. He doesn't give you one goddamn second to try to deny it or turn your eyes away the way you've been trained. Your name. Tattooed on your target's arm.

Seeing you eye to eye, Soap's breath catches in his throat. His own name on the side of your neck is clear as day to him now.

"You're her," he says, still not quite believing it.

You take another step back. What are you supposed to do? You should shoot him, yes, but could you even make your finger pull the fucking trigger now? You lower your gun, but you don't put it away.

"You should go," you tell him, voice low. "Now."

But he doesn't move. He wants to take this moment in, study your face, memorize every detail. You're the real thing. His blue eyes stay locked onto yours, and a myriad of scenarios play through his mind, just like yours. What happens if he leaves? Will he be able to find you again?

He takes a step toward you.

"Don't do that," you warn him, sliding back a step to keep the same distance between you. "Don't make me hurt you."

"You wouldn't." He moves for you now with the confidence of a man who believes that, too. He wants to touch you again. Just to make sure you're really here. His voice is rough and thick. "I need to look at you."

You bite down on a gasp when your heel knocks against the wall. He's getting too close. You can't let your control on the situation slip. You can't forget why you're here or what will happen if Graves finds out about this.

"Back off," you warn him again. You still have your sidearm in hand, but you're terrified he's right--pointing it at him is an empty threat.

"Can't."

He moves in close to you, his breath hot on your neck. You swear you can feel his body heat through the layers of both your uniforms. Your nerves are on fire. His scent is everywhere. This can't be happening. Not now. It should be a dream, meeting your soulmate, but it's a nightmare.

"Listen to me," you force out. "They'll find you and kill you. Leave. Now."

"Can't." Soap is close enough to whisper it into your ear. His hands close around your arms. "Can't think straight with you in front of me." His gaze darkens as he pushes forward, pressing you into the wall and pinning you there. If he's not going to live to see morning, he's going to kiss you. He has to taste you.

You hear another Shadow under you, boots thudding against the metal stairs, scaling up to your lookout perch.

You try to fight the panic welling up in your throat. You could both be shot for this. Killed for it. Worse.

You can't let them see him. If you give him what he wants, he'll go, right?

You grab his collar and pull him forward, meeting his lips in a searing kiss. His lips feel like stubble and taste like blood. He shudders, feeling your body suddenly pressed against his. He deepens the kiss. He's starving, but it's not enough. Just the taste and feel of you isn't enough. His fingers weave into your hair and he pulls you close, pressing even harder against your body.

You forget yourself for a moment. Your brain chemistry shifts hard, heat and want burning in your veins.

Then you hear voices from below and reality washes over you again. With a strangled groan, you push him away. "God damn you. Hide."

Soap has to force himself to let you go. It takes every ounce of control to keep from reaching for you again. But the look in your eyes when you push him away... he knows you've crossed a line.

He disappears the moment two more Shadows crest the top of the iron staircase.

You avoid rousing suspicion as you lie to your allies' faces, reporting no sightings of either target. By the time you're forced to leave your post and follow the others back to the nearest rendezvous point, you're resigned to never seeing him again. It's better not to wonder.

All you can think about are his fingers weaving into your hair, his lips on yours, the burning grip of his hands around your wrists. You tell yourself not to think about it... but then your mind goes back to it, over and over. No matter how much you tell yourself it's better not to fantasize.

Even when you learn he evaded capture, he's a wanted man. A dead man walking. You're better off pretending you never saw your name tattooed on his skin.

...

There is no other thought on Soap's mind but you long after he slips away into the Las Almas night.  The sight of you leaving with the other Shadows haunts him when he closes his eyes. He wakes up adrenalized, thinking about you in his hands, his heart pounding like it could punch through his rib cage.

His soulmate got away, and the weight of regret is setting in.

...

[part 1] / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5

more Soap / masterlist tag

[suppose-i-was-worm]

Like the Beat of a Drum pt 1

It began when Tim’s soulmark came in- fourteen years later than most children. He didn’t tell his parents, already well aware of what they thought of his late/non-existent soulmark.

He knew what society thought of people who were more than ten years older than their soulmate, and he didn’t want to be labeled a cradle-robber, so he discretely bought a patch to cover it with. Being markless was also helpful for being Robin- nothing to identify him by or to threaten his soulmate with.

Bruce said that having a soulmate was fine, as long as nobody ever saw your mark- even Tim hadn’t seen Bruce’s mark, though he knew where it was.

Tim didn’t know if he wanted a soulmate, but he was the first (and only) to admit that he couldn’t wait to meet this “Daniel Fenton”.

What he wouldn’t admit to anyone is that sometimes, when he was feeling particularly lonely, he could hear a heartbeat other than his own, pulsing from the mark just over his sternum. People would think he was crazy, and that was something he couldn’t afford on top of being labeled markless.

Nobody could know that Tim had a soulmate. He almost pitied the kid who got stuck with him.

~~~

Danny hadn’t had a soulmate before he died. He’d never heard a heartbeat that was a perfect harmony to his own, even when he listened hard.

After he’d died, the heartbeat he began to hear was always loud in his ears, and he had a smudged bit of writing on his hip. When he’d gone to Frostbite about the weird new mark, the yeti explained that other universes had soulmates, and their marks might be different from his own universe.

“You’ll find the right one someday, and then your mark will become clear.”

Sometimes Danny tried to imagine what his soulmate would look like. Would they be fine with him being a ghost? Would they treat him like the rest of the world did, with disgust and revulsion and distrust?

Surely not. Soulmate implied that they would be perfect counterpoints to each other. He assumed that meant they would get along.

The mark was always clearer when he was Phantom. Sometimes he imagined it cleared up a little as Danny depending on the choices he made, but he wasn’t sure about that- it’s not like he’d told anyone that he had a weird new tattoo, and it was in an odd place to look at.

He often found himself floating and looking up at the stars on quiet nights, day-dreaming about having someone perfect for him and him alone.

~~~

Tim grit his teeth and kept moving, trying to ignore the stabbing pain in his chest as he fought. He knew he hadn’t been stabbed- that felt different. Clearly, his soulmate was in some kind of trouble.

It’s not like he could do anything for them- he was currently fighting some ninja-cultist-assassin weirdos with Jason.

“We will raise the Ghost King and he shall bring fire upon the world!”

Dick had already swooped in and saved the little girl they were trying to use as a sacrifice, but something had triggered the summoning circle anyways after Tim had tried to mess up one of the lines. It was bubbling neon green, and Tim couldn’t decide if it looked more like the Lazarus pits or more like highlighter ink.

His second heartbeat pounded, a loud drum beneath his hidden soulmark, a soulmark that had been sore for days.

He had worried, of course, that someone was in danger and he couldn’t save them- especially as the fight started and the pain became worse.

To his relief, after the sigil started bubbling, the pain receded, as did the noise, and he could think about other things. Such as the so-called ‘Ghost King’.

With a rumble and a crack like thunder, the green pit spit out a slight figure that hung in midair for a moment, before dropping like a rock onto the place where the pit had been moments before.

Tim knocked out the last cultist and turned to face the new threat, but was instead greeted with a young man with floating white hair, curled up on his side, green blood oozing rapidly from… All of him.

What the hell?

~~~

Danny woke up slowly, feeling all sorts of sluggish. The ectoplasm in the air was thick, so he must be in one of two places- Amity, or the Infinite Realms.

The lack of restraints around his wrists and ankles made him think it was the Realms, but when he pried open his eyes, he was shocked to find himself somewhere altogether unfamiliar.

It was a medbay, of sorts- that he could tell, but from the glass wall he could see a vast cavern, filled with various bits and bobs. He could hear bats distantly chirping above him.

Before moving more than his head, Danny took stock of his situation. He did feel weighed down, yes, but it felt more like blood loss than anything else. There were bandages across his chest, and the heart monitor was letting out a long beep, as if warning everyone in the vicinity that the patient was dead.

Something heavy was taped to his hip, over his soulmark. He winced at the thought- Jack and Maddie had attacked that area with a single-minded intensity, thinking it was the thing that caused him to ‘possess their baby’.

Probably another bandage, but who would go through the trouble of wrapping him up? No one in Amity would, at least, nobody who had the kind of tech he could see. Vlad would just find a way to manipulate him because of his pain, not patch up his wounds.

The last thing he remembered before losing consciousness was a tugging at his core, pulling him away from the Fenton lab and into a world of green before that world went black.

“You’re awake.”

Startled from his thoughts, Danny looked to the door to see a young man in primary colors and a domino mask. The stranger tilted his head.

“Can you understand me?”

Danny tried to answer, but all that would come out of his dry mouth was a rasp, so he settled on a nod.

The stranger came closer, bringing with him a glass of water that he held to Danny’s lips.

Suspiciously, Danny took a sip, but all he could taste was clean water, so he drank slowly until the stranger pulled the glass away.

“Wh-where am I?”

“Gotham City, New Jersey.”

Now, Danny hadn’t ever been stellar at Geography, but he was pretty sure he’d never heard of a city called Gotham. Part of him thought that it would be just the right place for Sam to live- Goth-am.

“Would you be up to answering a few questions?”

The stranger was looking at him expectantly, so Danny nodded. Maybe he’d get information if he gave some.

“Wonderful. Do you have a name?”

“Phantom.”

The stranger typed something out into a computer Danny hadn’t noticed before.

“Thank you. Where are you from?”

~~~

“Illinois.”

Tim hadn’t been expecting such a mundane answer from the odd person in the Batcave medbay, but he was well aware that metas came from all over the world, even if they got spit out by Lazarus portals.

“Do you know how you got here?”

Phantom shook his head.

“I was- in the lab, and then everything was green. I passed out pretty fast after that.”

Now, the bats might be emotionally stunted, but Tim was the greatest detective that ever lived, so analytically he was fine. ‘In the lab’ plus the wounds the meta was sporting? That told a disastrous story.

“Can you tell me if anyone else was in the lab with you?”

Phantom paused for a long time.

“I just want to help, Phantom. There might be other metas in danger there.”

“Meta?”

Tim hadn’t expected Phantom to not know what a meta was- that painted an even worse picture than he thought.

He made sure his voice was kind and even when he answered.

“Powered individuals with the meta gene. I haven’t run your DNA yet, I was waiting for you to wake up for permission, but I’m sure you have the gene. There are protective acts in place to stop the abuse of powered individuals- we want to help.”

Much to his surprise, after gaping through his explanation, Phantom laughed!

“No! I’m not- no- my condition- it’s medical, not genetic.”

Tim winced. This poor guy, he’d been brainwashed.

“There wasn’t anyone else in the lab. I saved the rest of us before getting caught.”

Phantom’s tone was airy, but Tim could hear an underlying strength to it.

“What am I supposed to call you, by the way?”

~~~

Danny watched as the stranger went through several stages of grief at his question, and wondered how in the world it had been an odd query.

“I’m- Red Robin. Of the Gotham Bats.”

Oh. That’s why. Danny nodded sagely.

“Sports, I see. Which one requires masks? Cribbage?”

Ope, there went several more stages of grief, perhaps even some as of yet unknown to man.

“No. The Bats are vigilantes. We work with the Justice League, a group of superheroes in charge of world safety.”

Look. Danny might live under a proverbial rock in Amity Park, but superheroes? Never heard of ‘em. Point one to being a different universe.

Well. Point several, he just couldn’t remember the others. Wait a second-

“Are soulmarks a thing here?”

“What? Yes, why?”

Danny shot up, despite the pain in his chest and side and- everywhere.

“Can you show me a soulmark? Do you have one?”

Red Robin’s face shuttered behind the mask, and the heartbeat in Danny’s ears sped up a little.

“I do not.”

“Oh. Sorry. I just- Sorry.”

There was a noise from outside of the medical area, and then a voice called out.

“Red Robin? Is our guest awake? I brought a representative from the JLD.”

The vigilante got up and went out quickly, and Danny felt really bad for hurting him. For a few minutes he was left alone, so he lay back down and stared at the wall.

And then. And. Then.

“YOU!”

Danny shot up into a sitting position again, pointing at the man in the trench coat who came into the room.

Trench coat man looked confused.

Not caring for his stitches or monitors or anything like that, Danny struggled onto his feet, forgetting the pain in his anger.

“Do you, John Constantine, know how much of a pain in my ass you are?” He sneered and let his voice take on a nasally tone. “’Oh Great One, Phantom, lord of the realms and all that shit! John Constantine sold his soul to me, but he sold it to my cousin too! Who gets the soul now?’”

Danny ran a hand through his hair in frustration.

“You know who gets his soul now, Constantine? I fucking do! I-“ He flagged- maybe he shouldn’t air out this guy’s dirty laundry in front of strangers? “Anyways, fuck you, dude. Find a way to get me home and never fucking sell your soul again.”

~~~

Tim was honestly shocked that Phantom had been able to move in the state he was in, even with what Tim suspected was accelerated healing.

His extra heartbeat had started pounding a mile a minute the moment Phantom saw Constantine, but Tim ignored it for now, instead focusing on their guest.

When Phantom mentioned being sent home, Tim had to step in.

“I don’t believe that is wise, Phantom. You came to us severely injured. My conscious would not let me send you away without-“

Constantine was backing away from Phantom, so fast that he ran into Dick standing at the door.

“Nope. Not dealing with that. No offense, King Phantom, but you’re above my paygrade.”

Phantom (king?) stood still for a moment, looking lost, but then he drew himself up.

“John Constantine, I am your paygrade. Send me where I’m supposed to be.”

Tim watched curiously as Constantine winced.

“That’s some. Pretty vague wording there, your royalness. That is a spell, that I can cast, but whether it does anything or not?” He shrugged. “Can’t tell.”

Phantom slumped, and then waved a limp hand at Constantine.

“Yeah, I didn’t figure. Sorry I yelled at you. I’ll try not to lord the whole ‘I own your soul’ over you too much. Can you at least get me back to the Realms?”

“It might take me a while. What will you do in the meantime?”

Sighing, Phantom made his way back to the med cot, sitting on the edge gingerly.

“Heal the rest of the way. Haunt an abandoned building. Do whatever the hell ghosts do in this dimension.”

“Ghosts?”

Dick spoke up, and Tim could tell his brother was a little shell-shocked.

Phantom winced.

“I mean, as long as ghosts aren’t like, science experiments in this one. Been there, done that. Not fun.”

Constantine shrugged.

“There aren’t a lot of you running around, you should be fine.” He turned to Tim and Dick. “Bats, don’t cause an interdimensional incident. Phantom may be a good king, but he’s still a king.”

“Only on days that end in y.”

With another shrug, John disappeared in a swirl of tan trench coat.

Tim looked to Phantom, who was scowling at the place that Constantine vanished from.

“Well, your majesty, can we offer you any assistance?”

~~~

With a groan, Danny stood back up off the bed.

“No- I think I’m healed enough to get out of your hair by now. Uh. Thank you for your hospitality and all, but I should be… Trying to find a way home.”

“Whoever is back where you came from wants to hurt you, Phantom.”

Danny wasn’t sure why Red Robin seemed to care so much. Sure, he had pretty much decided that if anything happened to Red Robin he’d ice everyone in the vicinity and then finish the job on himself, but that was just him. He was pretty sure everyone imprinted on the first person they saw in a new reality.

Right?

“There are people I have to protect.”

He had to keep himself from wincing at the half-truth. He’d ordered the ghosts to stay away from Amity Park right before Jack and Maddie had captured him, so they were fine, but he had to protect Jazz and Sam and Tucker from finding out that the Fentons were so awful as to attack their son.

“You have to protect yourself first.”

The other man had stepped into the room.

“You’ve obviously been through something hard, Phantom. Take a break. We can find a safe house for you to stay in until you are feeling better. I’m Nightwing, by the way.”

Danny nodded to Nightwing, and then looked expectantly at Red Robin, who was tapping away at his wrist computer.

“Collectively, the only one of us with a suitable safe house is Red Hood. His have great security systems, but aren’t connected to the bats main computer network in any way.”

He looked up from his computer with a smile.

“Ready to meet a zombie, Mister Ghost King?”

[stevesbipanic]

Soulmate Marks Steddie AU but instead of like a guitar or dice or something for Eddie they get a nail bat and a nail shield.

Steve had grown up very confused with his soul mark. The crudely made shield with nails wasn't like anything he'd ever seen, normally soulmarks were something that represented his soulmate and helped him find her. People had flowers and sports equipment and things like their name. Tommy had a Christmas Tree for Carol and she had Tommy's favourite car. So what his soulmate was a Viking??? Maybe she was super into history, he signed up for AP history in hopes of finding her, but no luck. His parents hated that he didn't want to cover it up, it's not very feminine, what will people think Steve, but he didn't care He loved his soulmark and his soulmate, whoever she was. He knew Nancy wasn't his soulmate even though she matched the warrior personality he'd created in his head of his soulmate and he wasn't surprised her camera matched Jonathan's notepad and pen.

He kind of forgot about his mark for awhile. Too busy with Upside Down stuff and the kids and Robin and work and his parents always being away. He had a bisexual crisis in the Family Video bathroom with Robin when she said it was ok to like both, eerily reflecting Starcourt.

When it all came back again he swore that he felt something for a brief moment when Eddie pushed him against the boathouse but then there was the lake and Eddie talking about how soulmarks aren't everything if he truly loved Nancy and the chaos of getting out of the Upside Down.

Maybe if Eddie and Dustin weren't always so loud, their laughter cutting through the gloom of the situation, Steve wouldn't have noticed what they were doing. But there they were, battling each other with shields that Steve was all too familiar with. He almost dropped the makeshift molotov.

There was no time to confront this though, they had a job to do, a Hawkins to save. Eddie had stopped him for just a moment and he almost said it then. Oh how he wished he'd said something then, when he'd come back to Dustin's screams, a rush of bloody bandages, a slurring dying Eddie in his arms and a speeding van to the hospital, police be damned.

Steve didn't move from his bedside for a whole week. By then the party had seen the soulmark on Steve's hip, they knew why he was there. Steve had never seen a more beautiful sight than Eddie finally opening his eyes.

"Those bats bit off half my bat tattoo those ironic bastards" was one of the first things Eddie said. Steve couldn't help but laugh, Eddie was still being Eddie despite everything.

"shit they better not have-" to Steve's alarm, Eddie was pulling on the edge of one of his bandages, "oh thank fuck it's still there," and there it was, Eddie's soulmark, Steve's nail bat.

Guess Steve's soulmate was a warrior after all.

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

Fated

Your soulmark has formed on your arm. The little bat was a mystery to you until you moved to Hawkins and met Eddie Munson...

Too bad he has a girlfriend and wants nothing to do with this "soulmate shit"

Or so he says anyway.

Warnings: Angst, meanish Eddie, soulmates, rejection, jealous Eddie, Eddie gets his head out of his ass, fluff.

Don't copy, reuse or repost my work.

I've left Eddie's soul mark up to interpretation. It's up to you what you want it to be.

♥️

Finding your soulmate should have been one of the best things that ever happened to you.

When the bat mark had appeared on your first day in Hawkins you were sure something had went very bad with this whole soulmate thing. Even though your family insisted that fate was never wrong.

Who the hell had a bat as a soulmate mark? It didn't make sense to you until you met Eddie and saw his tattoo.

There was a sharp pain and a burning feeling and you were aware Eddie was watching you for a response but you were trying not to show you were in pain.

Chancing a glance at your arm you find the small bat glowing brightly.

Eddie's eyes widen and he winces as if he's in pain too. When he removes his jacket his mark is now burned onto his skin.

"No, no no no. I have a girlfriend, she's called Chrissy and I can't... We can't, this whole soulmate bond mark thing is a load of shit sweetheart" his big brown eyes are full of panic.

Evn though you've only just met Eddie you feel your heart crack at his full on rejection.

You finally meet your soulmate and he has a girlfriend. Just my fucking luck you sigh and you don't know what to say to him.

The excitement of finding your soulmate fades as a pretty blonde bounds over to Eddie and introduces herself.

There's a sharp flash of pain that's radiating from your mark and you try to ignore it but it sits there all day, a dull ache that never really fades.

♥️

Despite Eddie being with Chrissy you manage to settle in Hawkins and make a few friends.

Robin and Steve are great and you get on well with Nancy who you're working with at Hawkins post. It's your first job out of high school and you want it to be a success.

Despite trying to avoid Eddie he's very much in your friend group and very much does not want anything to do with you.

You find out from Steve that after Chrissy found the soulmate mark on Eddie she left him.

Just another reason for him to hate you. He didn't want to know the person who broke up his relationship.

It wasn't very obvious to you but it was to Steve and Dustin his friend/pretty much like his little brother that Eddie despite his annoyance at the situation was intrigued by you.

Dustin caught him staring at you a few times or listening intently when you were chatting and answering questions about yourself.

He would turn away as soon as you noticed which made both Dustin and Robin roll their eyes in exasperation.

It wasn't your fault that Eddie was your soulmate and you were his, though Dustin did sympathise with Eddie for losing Chrissy, he was beginning to like you and didn't like seeing you hurt when Eddie would avoid you.

All that Eddie's coldness decided for you was that you needed to move on. It was crushing having your soulmate reject you but you had to accept it and move on.

That's when you met Josh, he was a friend of Steve's. Charming, sweet, funny. He was great.

Nancy was sitting with Jonathan and she was asking your plans for the evening as you diligently ignore the ache you feel with Eddie around. Thank god Nance offered a distraction.

"Oh, well I met this guy and we're going on our second date" you beam as Josh comes in and you head over to him, you're keen to introduce him to everyone.

♥️

Something dark and intense burns in Eddie's gut as he meets Josh. He's all perfect hair, perfect smile and is making you laugh.

That stupid mark burns so intensely that he swears under his breath and gulps his beer. He didn't like this guy one bit. Couldn't you see that Josh was a fake preppy dickhead?

Nancy asks how you met Josh and the growing envy inside him kicks up a notch at how charming Josh was being to everyone.

"I was a little hesitant at first, Josh admits but I couldn't help wanting to get to know her" Josh smiles at you and Eddie scowls.

"Hesitant about what exactly dude?" Josh throws him a dark look and there's a smug smirk on his face that pisses Eddie off even more.

"This soul mark thing but after hearing you were so adamant about it being a lot of shit I feel like I should thank you man, otherwise I would never have met this sweet lady"

Eddie grits his teeth and bites back a retort. Sensing danger Robin changes the subject but Eddie's in no mood to listen to Josh spout of a load of crap.

He's snappish and yeah he's aware he's being an ass but there's just something about this goofy idiot that Eddie doesn't like.

Eventually he makes an excuse to leave. He needed to destress and the only thing that could help him was jamming out a few tunes on his guitar.

♥️

You don't know what the hell was up with Eddie today but you were pissed off and somehow you ended up at his trailer, ready to confront him for being such an ass.

He opens the trailer door and looks suprised to see you and you push past him, eager to pour out your feelings.

"Why were so mean to Josh?" he leans back against the table and you feel a delicious ache build up inside you at how good he looked.

"What to you want from me Eddie? You don't want me. You want Chrissy! So why should I not be allowed to find someone? You acted like an asshole and for what!" you were full on ranting now but you didn't care.

Eddie watches you rant torn between wanting you to shut up and kissing you. The urge to kiss you was growing stronger and he tried to resist it.

"Princess, he's a fucking douchebag okay? He's fake as shit. Anyone can see that" you frown at his use of the word princess and can't decide if you like it or not.

Judging by the butterflies in your belly you did... Fuck. Irratated at how he affected you and the lack of chemistry between you and Josh you let out your frustrations.

"In case you forgotten Eddie you rejected me because you were with Chrissy and it's my fault she left you so whatever game you're playing cut it out"

The two of you are like magnets as he moves closer to you and his expression is soft, his big brown eyes full of tenderness.

"I've been such a dick to you and I'm sorry sweetheart. It's not your fault about the mark and I shouldn't have acted like it was" he caresses your cheek gently and it feels like your nerves are on fire.

"Don't think you can soften me up with those pretty brown eyes and that charming grin Eddie Munson" you warn him and he shrugs sheepishly.

"Pretty and charming huh? I'll take it" he winks at you and you feel yourself growing incredibly flustered, okay now was the time to leave.

"Ive been trying to avoid this for weeks but I can't sweetheart. I'm so drawn to you and I understand that you're seeing Josh but if he fucks up even once then... He's an idiot and I'll be waiting"

You leave at that point and your mind is racing, so much for moving on from Eddie, now you're more into him than ever.

♥️

Chrissy didn't expect to find Eddie at the Hideout tonight, it wasn't his night to perform with Corroded Coffin but here he was knocking back a couple of beers.

"Soulmate thing not working out for you?" she asks sympathetic and Eddie fakes a smile and at her gentle smile is coaxed into explaining all that has happened.

"Oh Eddie, can you blame her for moving on? You've acted like you want nothing to do with her and now you're all jealous because she's found someone. I hate to be mean but get your head out of your ass"

Eddie almost chokes on his beer at Chrissy's words but he knows she's right. He's been such an idiot.

''I'm a total butthead huh? I know that now"

Chrissy nods and kisses his cheek.

"Eddie, you've obviously fallen for her even if you've tried not to and you're jealous of this Josh guy so why don't you be Eddie the Brave and go and get the girl" she blushes a bit and tucks her hair behind her ear.

"Maybe I could pluck up the courage to talk to Jason. He's changed so much these last six months and he's my... He's my soulmate you know, I just know it"

Eddie nods. He needed to get his head out of his ass and just talk to you again.

Chrissy was right, as much as he tried to fight this soulmate bond, it was pretty obvious that you were his dream girl and he was being an idiot for letting you slip through his fingers.

Well no fucking more.

♥️

Josh had no showed tonight and after you managed to give him a call to check if he was okay, he casually dropped into conversation that he had met someone else (a non soul mark someone else)

It's not like you were heartbroken or anything but it still stung a little bit that in all your attempts to get over Eddie he was still at the forefront of your mind.

Frustrated you decide to get ready for bed and watch one of your favourite comfort movies. Maybe with some comfort food to go with it.

Just as your ready for a lot of much needed fluff and comfort your doorbell rings and Eddie is standing in the snow storm looking a little bedraggled but determined.

"Eddie" he comes inside and for a second he looks nervous but then he begins to speak and the nerves vanish.

"Look, I fucked up sweetheart. I know I did but I just have to say that Josh isn't right for you and I know I don't deserve a chance when I've been such an asshole but fuck him, you're mine and I'm going to fight for you every single day and show you how serious I am about being with you"

Oh wow. That you didn't expect.

"Eddie the truth is Josh met someone else and we aren't together anymore" Eddie stills and his eyes flash with fury.

"See what I mean now princess? He's an asshole" you stifle a smile. He takes your hand and looks to you with a hopeful expression on his face.

"One chance, that's all I'm asking" he pleads and you nod.

"Don't make me regret this Munson" you warn him gently and he grins.

"You won't princess, I promise you" He moves closer to you and presses a kiss to your lips.

It should have been a chaste and sweet kiss but the minutes your lips touch it's impossible to pull away. Eddie deepens the kiss and a soft moan issues from his mouth.

"Shit" he looks dazed and you giggle and kiss him again.

"That's not fair. I wasn't finished kissing you princess" he whines and tugs you back to him for another kiss.

♥️

Authors note: Can just imagine Eddie turning into a can't keep his hands off you, smitten boyfriend like super fast.

[teatoptony]

The Whole Being Soulmates Thing

summary; in this world, soulmates exist. he has one. it’s just that he already found someone, and your marks don’t match at all.

or, in which a stupidly stubborn punk in stupidly in love with someone who’s not his stupid ‘real’ soulmate.

pairing; hobie brown x reader, spider-punk x reader (soulmate!au)

warning(s); mentions of police brutality, not-too-detailed descriptions of injuries. r is non-gendered, no mention of r’s race. not proofread & written in the wee hours.

i am not black, i don’t have wicks. i did some research on how to properly care for them and wrote tiny parts in here with the info i had, but it may not be totally accurate. if something is wring, let me know. same for the lcp.

also hobie might sound a bit ooc but it’s a quiet fic and we don’t rly see him ‘quiet’ so eat my ahh(/j)

inspired by this post by @corrodedcoffeen ! not exactly 100% accurate but yea

He lived in a world full of soulmates and soulmarks.

Everyone who had a soulmate had a soulmark, like a little tattoo; whether it be on their arm, leg, back, even on their face. Sometimes, a person would have multiple soulmarks. In other cases, they wouldn’t have any at all. Some people were born with their marks, some appeared later down the line.

In most cases, people would do anything to find their soulmate. To be with them. To unite with their missing half.

Hobie Brown was among those who’d been born with a soulmate. Four little streaks that wrapped halfway around his left arm, like a scar from an animal that had halfheartedly tried to claw the whole thing off at birth.

Hobie loved his soulmark.

Not because he’d met his soulmate. Nor was it because the idea of a predestined partner made him giddy. No, it was because he felt a sense of pride whenever he looked at it. Pride that he’d beaten the system when he got you.

His thoughts wander as he sits on your your and his shared bed, a towel flat under his bum to prevent any grime that may be on his suit from rubbing off on the sheets. His vest and T-shirt had been haphazardly folded and placed on the bathroom sink, desperately needing a thorough cleaning after a particularly hard day, which left his torso bare for you to assess and repair the damage he’d been dealt once you peeled off the top half of his suit.

“Bit eager, yeah?” He’d joked as you hastily helped him out of his clothes, that cheeky smirk still shining through on his tear-streaked face. You’d answered with an exasperated laugh.

He had come home at two in the morning, stumbling through the window with a hand over the right side of his mask. When he’d ripped it off, tossing it on a random bit of the floor somewhere, you were met with red eyes, wet cheeks, a runny nose and a blood-crusted lip. Apparently, he’d been at the frontlines of a protest when one of the tear gas shells hit him right in the face, cracking his right eye lense and leaving him vulnerable to the gas’s full effect. You didn’t need to be told what happened to know what came next. After all, it was always the same routine with the pigs - gas the crowd and beat any individuals that strayed from the mass.

Now, as Hobie’s fingers tap a little rhythm on the mattress, your hands glide a washcloth long his skin, being careful to minimize pressure on his bruises. Which, granted, is hard when they cover most of his back and ribcage, but you made it work somehow. Tear gas residue sticks to anything it can, and although his body was mostly had been mostly covered, it gave the both of you peace of mind to clean anything off just in case. He thanks you by softly gripping your other hand, his fingers lacing together with yours.

“Need more milk?” You ask, going to put the cloth down and grab the already half-empty sprayer on the ground next to the bed, having already been used in the bathroom just minutes prior and put there just in case. He shakes his head, the hand that’s not on yours gently grabbing your wrist and guiding it back to his chest.

As you continue, he thinks back to the first time he’d held your hand like that.

It was when the two of you were barely teenagers, when he didn’t fully understand how the whole ‘soulmates’ thing even worked, or how messed up it really was. The only thing he really knew was that people were supposed to stay together forever if their marks matched, even if that wasn’t always the case.

Having known each other since you were just kids, he remembers wishing so badly that your soulmark matched his. He had wished that little planet on your ankle could be washed away, a temporary tattoo or doodle instead of an actual mark. He remembers drawing little black holes at the corners of his school worksheets, hoping that one of them would eventually swallow your mark whole and replace it with four lines identical to his.

Back then, he had wished his ugly little bands would somehow arrange themselves into a square. At least then he could insist that his mark was a planet. A weird square one, yeah, but a planet just like yours.

But as you looked at him with that warm glow in your eyes, he swore you were the best thing that had ever happened to him, soulmate or not.

If only that kid could see him now - here, with you.

He suppresses a smile that threatens to slip onto his face, as moving his lips makes the cut sting.

“You almost gave me a heart attack,” you mutter, wiping at the last bit of his torso. Hobie lets out a low sigh.

“‘M sorry love,” he says back, giving your hand a little squeeze. He really does mean it. He hates seeing the worry and sadness in your eyes every time he came back to you after one of these days. Fuck knows how he’d cope with it if you came home like this just every now and again, let alone what seemed like every other day recently. “I do try to be careful.”

You hum in response, getting up from your spot and holding out your hand for him to do the same. He does so with little to no hesitation, only waiting a moment to brace himself for the soreness that would follow. You lead him to the bathroom.

“Everything off,” you say, then immediately follow it up with, “Don’t.”

“I didn’t even say nothin’!” Hobie protests, feigning offense. As if that glint in his eye didn’t give it away.

“You need to get cleaned off properly.” You stress the lest word, letting go of his hand so that he can strip. “You can’t just go to bed after a quick wipe-down tonight. You need a shower.”

“But it’s gonna be cold.” Hobie groans. Tear gas wasn’t anything new, he’d had to clean the residue off of himself more times than he could count. That didn’t mean he was a fan of the cold showers that did most of the actual cleaning. Despite his complaints, he hastily steps out of his remaining articles of clothing as you start the water.

His muscles tense as he steps into the shower, pulling him out of his somewhat drowsy state. He quickly scrubs every part of his body, wanting to get out as fast as possible.

He washes his hair out last, taking care to not mess them up no matter how much he hates the temperature of the water. He’d made the mistake of trying to shampoo the whole of his head in one go just once before, and he’d be damned if he had to go running to the auntie down the street again to fix any tangles neither you nor him could sort out.

In his defense, he’d almost bled out just a couple hours beforehand that day. Having your first (superhero-related) near-death experience tends to shake you up a little.

“You’re such a man-baby,” you’d teased him as Hobie gripped your hand for dear life, the woman you’d guaranteed could get that nightmare of a knot out sorting through his hair with an arsenal of olive oil and a wide toothed comb.

“Oh piss off—” his reply was cut short as she detangled a particularly nasty bit of the problem, unfortunately having to tug exceptionally hard at his head. “Ow!”

The woman - Aunt Margaret, as you’d introduced her - tsked at him to sit still, poking at the tangle with the handle of her comb to see if it would give way now. Luckily, most of it did. She muttered something along the lines of ‘young people nowadays’, but in a sort of gruffly affectionate sort of way. From what you’d told him, Aunt Margaret was sort of the neighborhood mom, always helping people who needed it no matter how much she gave them grief for it.

The three of you made small talk over tea after his hair was nice and hairball-free, albeit a little slippery. Turned out, Aunt Margaret had plenty of stories of her own to share. Hobie had been delighted to hear about everything that had happened when she was a part of the League of Colored Peoples, almost ready to practically beg the woman to adopt him.

Two weeks later, when he decided to drop by again, the topic of soulmates came up. Aunt Margaret asked if he’d found his soulmate yet, to which he replied he didn’t believe in the soulmate system. She nodded in agreement.

“Just as well,” she had said, a frown making its way onto her face. “I’ve seen too many good people get their hearts broken because of that bloody mark.” She eyed his upper arm, exposed in the sleeveless top he’d worn at the time. “I got mine covered ages ago.”

“Did you meet your soulmate before that?”

Aunt Margaret shook her head. “That’s a story for another time, Bartholomew.”

He still makes time for tea with her every week or so.

The second he steps out of the shower, he’s greeted with a huge, warm towel fresh from the dryer. He wraps it around himself as you usher him back to the bedroom where you’d laid out some comfy clothes for him. Out of the corner of his eye, he notices the clothes he’d discarded on the bathroom floor is long gone, along with his vest and tee that were sitting on the sink.

“I put the studs out on the veranda to air out,” you say, noticing him glance at the empty sink. “They’ll need washing, though. My eyes got all weird when I looked at the vest too close, and your belt’s not much different. The rest of everything’s in the machine.”

Pulling on his bottoms, Hobie silently nods at your words before pulling the tank top you’d dug out for him over his head. He then walks over to place a kiss on your head. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you close to leech off your warmth. He lets out a little noise of contentment when he feels you hug him back.

Wordlessly, he walks the two of you to your the shared vanity, plopping himself down on the seat. You grab the hairdryer off the table, checking to make sure it’s okay for you to help before switching it on to dry his wicks. Hobie closes his eyes as you make your way through each piece, eventually stopping once there’s no more water to be purged. Your fingers sorting through his hair so carefully is calming - almost therapeutic, and it takes all his willpower to keep himself sitting straight up for you.

After that, he clumsily grabs you and throws you over his shoulder, ignoring how you yelp in surprise and unplugging the dryer. He then proceeds to carry you around your place, flicking off all the lights before getting back to the bedroom and (softly) throwing you on the mattress.

“Was that really necessary?” You groan as he throws the sheets over the both of you. Hobie then proceeds to drag himself half on top of you, using you as a full body pillow.

“Definitely.” He replies, his voice a bit muffled against your pajamas.

You laugh. “Sure.”

He tilts his head up to give you a goodnight kiss, murmuring ‘dream ‘bout me’ next to your ear to which you respond by playfully pushing him away.

“Rude,” He mutters, smiling into your clothes as he huffs in indignation. Your laugh echoes through your body, a sound more beautiful than any music he had or would ever hear.

He doesn’t fall asleep too easily that night. Rogue thoughts on soulmates and fate flinging about his skull. For some reason, they’d all picked tonight to bug him to pieces.

Unknowingly, his grip around you tightens, feeling your weight in his arms. It grounds him as all the doubts try to throw him off, to destabilize something perfectly happy.

What if they find their soulmate? Then they’ll decide if they want me or them. (Me.)

What if I find my soulmate? What, like I’d break their heart for a stranger? Yeah. Fat chance.

He swatted those questions away like pesky little mosquitoes until he eventually fell asleep, choosing to focus instead on your heartbeat ringing in his ears.

So what if you two weren’t soulmates? He loves you, you love him. That’s all that matters.

The universe can suck an egg.

—

The next morning, Hobie woke up at 11, as usual. You woke up right after him as he stirred, like you always did. The two of you lounged in the comfort of your the sheets for a while before you had to eventually get up for breakfast.

Hobie was trailing behind you on your walk to the kitchen when something catches his eye.

His reflection in the vanity mirror.

Something’s… off.

Oh.

Oh.

Oh shit.

“Y/n?” He calls, looking down at his upper arm just to make sure the mirror isn’t playing tricks on him. Sure enough, there it is.

You turned around at his voice, eyebrows furrowed in a confused way. “Hm?”

“Look.”

He watches as your confusion morphed into surprise and then back to confusion again. Then you auickly check your ankle, confusion turning into realization.

“We match.”

Your soulmarks had somehow changed overnight, turning into small, stylized sun symbols that stand out more than either of your marks before ever did, clear as day.

It’s a few moments of stunned silence before laughter breaks out between the two of you.

“You know what we have to do now,” you manage, an arm around the front of your midsection and the other hand on your face.

“I think I do.” Hobie says, practically wheezing

By the end of the day, the two of you have covered up your new soulmarks with mismatching tattoos.

[7ndipity]

Soulmate AU Scenarios

Jin x Reader, Jungkook x Reader

Warnings: only partially edited, not proofread

A/N: These have been sitting in my drafts for soo long, I don’t even remember when I wrote them tbh, but I figured since I didn’t have anything else ready for today, I’d share these with the class!

(Note, these are part of my Non-Linear series, which means they’re unfinished and ask motivated, see m.list for details)

Masterlist Non-Linear m.list

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

J: (Feeling a shock when you touch your SM)

Jin braced himself as he wove through the crowded streets, trying to avoid bumping into anyone as the static air began to make his hair bristle.

Everywhere he went, tiny zaps of electricity would hit him, sometimes from just the slightest of touches. It was like wearing a wool sweater all the time, and it made him tense and anxious every time he left the house.

He had gone to multiple doctors and specialists to try and figure out what was going on, but all they could ever come up with was he was just hypersensitive to his type of soulmark, feeling things too intensely.

He had hoped that they would be able to help him find some sort of treatment or solution to his problem, but all they had basically told him was to try wearing extra layers to lessen the sensation and to just ignore it as best he could.

He made his way slowly down the crowded sidewalk, trying to avoid getting too close to anyone, but it was almost impossible to avoid bumping into a few people. By the time he made it to crosswalk, he could hardly stand the static buzz around him anymore, more than ready to just go home

Suddenly, he heard a small curse as someone behind him stumbled, falling against him.

“Yi-aish!” Lightning shot up his arm, sending him flying back in shock and pain. Heart pounding from the sudden jolt of electricity, he looked up to see you sitting on the ground, gripping your shoulder in pain from the shock.

Realization hit him as he stared down at you, his fingers still tingling from the intensity of the shock.

“A-are you okay?” He asked, hesitating for a moment before offering you his hand.

Glancing between it and his face, you cautiously accepted it, your expression mirroring his curiosity and concern.

This time, when your palms touch, neither of you felt a painful jolt, but rather a soothing warmth that spread up your arm, like sunlight in your veins.

He smiled shyly at you. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

Jungkook:(sharing a very specific mark with your SM, SM’s tattoos/scars appear on your skin)

For the nth time today, you tugged down the sleeve of your sweater to cover your right hand, hiding the writing and designs that decorated your skin.

Having the same tattoos and scars as your soulmate would be enough to make anyone feel a bit self conscious at times on its own, no matter how beautiful you might think they are, but when your soulmate was someone famous, having such a visible marker of who you were bound to made you a target for all kinds of attention, some of which could even be potentially dangerous.

So many people tried to copy tattoos, trying to pass themselves off as the real deal, the only way to know for sure was to get some kind of test to know if it was regular ink or a ‘soul mark’ as they were sometimes called.

When the marks first started showing up, you were in complete denial, but the collection of designs had quickly grown beyond the point of denying, so you had switched to ignoring/hiding them. Lots of people chose to ignore their marks and make their own lives, and you knew enough about your soulmate to know there wasn’t a real possibility to be together.

Until your manager came by to tell you that you would be giving a tour of the venue/museum/historical site/smth where you worked to some very important visitors.

When you walked out and saw him standing there, it was like the world stopped. Everything seemed to slow for a fraction of a second, your breath hanging in the air as your eyes met.

But then, painfully, the world kept going. Everyone kept talking, your manager introduced you to everyone and left you to show him and his members around.

Pushing your initial shock aside, you focused on leading them around on the tour, answering any questions they had and chatting easily. You actually found yourself having a really nice time with them, almost forgetting your earlier nerves, until you noticed Jungkook's eyes on you, or more specifically, your hand.

As you had been pointing out something, he caught sight of the dark patterning over your knuckles, just barely peeking out of your oversized sleeves.

You tried to tuck your hand out of sight, but he was too quick, stepping forward and catching your arm, tugging your sleeve up to reveal the numerous, interweaving tattoos that covered your skin.

You locked your eyes on the floor, afraid of what he would say.

“Finally.” He breathed, making you look up in surprise.

He smiled down at you in disbelief. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @feminympho @a-gayish-unicorn

[tiagems]

I'm obsessed with the idea of a soulmate au where every universe's soulmate thing is different. Tattoos with your soulmate's name, matching eye colors, feeling each other's pain.

On Earth 138, it's a birthmark tattoo that matches your soulmate. There's a lot of variation in that one and it fits the style of the world. Of course, Hobie doesn't like the idea of soulmates, just in general he doesn't believe in them. Despite the sunflower printed on his left shoulder, he's very loud and proud about how he "doesn't have a soulmate" and how he doesn't need some weirdo cosmic power telling him what's best. "It's creepy," he says when Gwen asks one night, looking at her own soulmark(a black band around her ring finger; it was pink when Peter was alive). "Some dickhead up in the clouds makin' decisions for me? Gross."

Earth 1610's soulmate mark is the nickname your soulmate will give you written on your wrist. Miles spent his entire childhood not really paying attention to it, but as he grows older he starts to get anxious. "Sunflower" isn't exactly a common nickname, but then again isn't that the point? And then he thinks that maybe Gwen is the answer- except she can't be, because she's from another universe and besides, she's never once called him anything other than Miles or Spider-Man.

And then he starts spending time with other Spider-Men his age. Pavitr, Margo, Peni. Hobie.

And one day Hobie just casually says "Wanna go for a swing, sunflower?"

Miles thinks his heart has exploded.