#tattoo identifying marks

[ghostlynimbus]

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Stranger Things (TV 2016) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington Characters: Billy Hargrove, Steve Harrington Additional Tags: Soulmates, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmarks (Name Tattoos), Temporary Steve Harrington/Nancy Wheeler, Background Relationships, Abuse, Child Abuse, Abusive Neil Hargrove, Neil Hargrove is His Own Warning, if it happens in s2 it might happen here, Rating May Change, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

Summary:

In a world where your soulmate's first name appears like a tattoo somewhere on your body sometime around the age of five, certain secrets can be hard to keep.

A soulmate identifying marks AU.

-

If you like me & my work  and you have the money to spare any tips appreciated. Capitalism is rough and I am not built for this shit.

Ko-Fi - https://ko-fi.com/ghostlynimbus

[chenziee]

Like a sticker

@lawluevents - Day 4: Tattoos/Possessive @onepiece-bingo: Sticker

Alternate summary: Luffy gives Law the highest compliment of all

[ Read on AO3 | series ]

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Slumping over the kitchen table while waiting for his snack, Luffy turned his head to gaze up at Law. The man was sitting next to him, leaning back into his chair comfortably while he studied some thick, ancient looking history book that Robin had lent him earlier that day. He was so engrossed in the complicated words that he was already almost half-way through, the coffee mug in front of him had long since gone cold, completely forgotten.

He really was beautiful. Luffy could see why Nami always teased him about Law’s supposed fans and admirers.

Not that that mattered to Luffy; Torao was his soulmate and no one else’s. Also Torao was free to do whatever he wanted. He could have a fanclub like Luffy had the Barto Club and everyone else in the self-proclaimed fleet. It was basically the same thing, right?

Right.

Luffy snickered to himself when he realised just how busy Law was with his book. Usually, he would have snapped at Luffy to stop staring at him by now but today, it seemed like he had all the freedom to study Law’s features and—

“Stop staring at me.”

—or not.

“Sorry, Torao. But I’m bored,” Luffy whined.

“Then go out to fuck around with God-ya and Tony-ya or something,” Law suggested, shooting Luffy a look.

“Don’t wanna.” Luffy stuck out his bottom lip in a small pout. “I wanna hang out with you and also I’m hungry, Sanji!”

“You have to wait, I told you it will take a while,” Sanji snapped from where he was busy cooking at the stove while there was also a pie being baked in the oven.

Both dinner and dessert smelled heavenly already. Luffy’s mouth was watering just thinking about being able to eat it all soon.

Luffy groaned again, the pout on his lips growing ever so slightly. He wanted to eat it now…

“Be a big boy and wait for the man,” Law said with amusement. 

Putting his book on the table, he went to ruffle Luffy’s hair like he so loved doing for some reason… but Luffy grabbed his hand before he could so much as touch his hair. Law’s eyebrows shot up but he didn’t say anything, only watched as Luffy took his hand and brought it up to his face, studying the back of it intently. 

Even Law’s hands were beautiful, Luffy thought. Long elegant fingers, deft and trained to do precise work during surgeries, his nails kept perfectly clean, cut and filed to be the exact length they needed to be. And then, of course, there were the tattoos.

When they had first met, Luffy thought they were cool; really edgy, but so incredibly cool. Now, years later, he knew that not only were they still cool, the DEATH spelled out on both of his hands fit Torao better than anything else could and he couldn’t imagine Law’s hands without it—or any of the many other tattoos Law carried on his skin.

Luffy tried counting them once but he lost count at some point and settled to simply admire them.

But there weren't just tattoos for Luffy to admire; there was also the chain that covered most of his left arm, broken. Setting Law free and giving him the room to fly. It always made Luffy smile when he looked at the soulmark. He only regretted that it took 26 years of Law’s life to make the mark fulfil its purpose—and for Luffy’s to fulfil its own. 26 years of Law’s life to mimic the way the giant fist on Luffy’s thigh was crushing a birdcage until it was nothing but pieces of crooked metal junk. 

As it should be. It was so suffocating inside.

He was really glad that was over with.

Letting his fingers gently trace over the soulmark, and the tattoo partly covering it, Luffy hummed thoughtfully.

“What is it?” Law asked finally, his voice quiet as if not to disturb Luffy’s thoughts.

Luffy, however, replied immediately, without a second thought, “I want a tattoo.”

A beat of silence passed but before Law could say anything, Luffy corrected himself. “Wait no. I want us to get tattoos. Matching ones.”

“Why would we need matching tattoos?” Law asked slowly, voice carefully measured—Luffy wasn’t sure if that was because he was struggling not to show how touched he was by the suggestion… or how unimpressed he was by Luffy’s impulsive decisions.

Either one wouldn’t be the first time. Or last time.

“To show we’re together?” Luffy tried. He wasn’t entirely sure how to explain it; after all, he had decided on it exactly 30 seconds ago.

“Luffy, we are literally soulmates. We already have matching soulmarks. And Big News Morgans wrote so much shit about us already that I’d be shocked if someone didn’t know about us being together.” Okay, yeah, he was definitely unimpressed.

But Luffy wasn’t about to give up. “Hardly anyone can tell our marks match though!” he complained, poking at Law’s forearm where the chain on it was breaking to stress his point.

“The point is—” Law sighed— “that we don’t need matching tattoos.”

“We so do! I mean, getting tattoos that match exactly would be more obvious to anyone, right? Like when I put ‘ME’ stickers on Sanji’s pirate bentos!”

A beat of silence followed before—

Law snorted. 

“Did you just compare me to a piece meat?” he asked, trying to sound offended but failing in the delivery with the way his voice was shaking.

“Yes.” Luffy didn’t even try to refute him; it was a compliment, after all.

“You’re impossible,” Law said, prying his hand from Luffy’s hold to grab his book once more.

“Torao~! Come on!”

“Don’t be a brat,” Torao huffed, shooting Luffy a glare.

Puffing up his cheeks, Luffy blinked up at Law innocently. “Torao…”

“Puppy eyes won’t work. I don’t want a matching tattoo, it’s embarrassing.” With one final huff, Law turned away, raising the book up to his face to signify the matter over.

“But I love you, Torao. Please. For me?”

“If you two are going to keep being an annoying couple over there, I’m going to kick you out of the kitchen!” Sanji snapped then, apparently having had enough of listening to the exchange.

Luffy totally forgot he was there…

Whoops?

“Sorry, Sanji,” Luffy mumbled sheepishly.

Law, however, pulled his book down a little, just enough to be able to look at the back of Sanji’s head for a moment, the corners of his mouth twitching like they did every time he was about to say something that made Luffy laugh—and that always got them both into trouble. “Should I go get Zoro-ya so you don’t feel so lonely?”

Luffy held his breath as silence settled over the kitchen.

“Get the fuck out.”

Luffy didn’t bother stifling his laughter—not even when a knife came flying at him, landing mere inches away from his head. Honestly, the fact that Sanji got angry enough to use a knife as a weapon only made it funnier.

He continued laughing when Law used his power to move them to the deck to escape Sanji’s wrath, he continued laughing when Law pulled him on his lap, pressing a soft kiss to his temple… and he continued laughing quietly even once they settled into each other, with Luffy sitting between Law’s legs and leaning back against his chest while Law finally went back to his book. It was so warm and comfortable and in that moment, Luffy was happy.

Ah, Luffy really wanted to slap a sticker on this man.

One that would make it clear to everyone who he belonged to.

[samwiselastname]

having finished saw 3D: I take back what I said about saw V, either hoffman only accidentally made the nazikiller pendulum shaped like thor's hammer, or he got like. a lot lazier after the 20th white supremacist execution

[the-faultofdaedalus]

mmmmmmmm lily to come back home after her year and a half absence having her tattoos be visibly fucked up (her back one is already and permanently fucked ip, since that’s where the death blow happened and any pre-death or at-death scarring is kept) but like,,, her sleeve as well, bare sections of unscarred skin where she’s been healed with magic

[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

[crystalflygeo]

Mark of an Archon ft. Venti / Zhongli / Ei / Focalors / Nahida / Neuvillette + gn!reader

cw/tags: Mostly suggestive but nsfw in some parts (mostly Zhongli, Neuvillette) marking, kissing.

notes: Alright so... this is different from anything I've written before but I got inspired by the concept of the elemental symbols used as marks by the Archons to denote those important to them. Just short fluffy little dabbles I guess, first time writing everyone except the dragon men heh. I tried REALLY HARD to keep this gender neutral and be inclusive in descriptions but regardless, reader bottoms lmao. Hope y'all like it. (Y'all will NEVER guess where did I get the inspiration for all the marks' placements hehe) Edit: Y'all I have never played obey me WHEEZE the marks placement actually comes from a very old magical girl anime I loved as a kid XDDDD (except geo, it was on the belly button but-//hit)

It is said that the Archons place a mark on the body of their loved ones. A symbol of protection, perhaps of “ownership”, imbued with their elemental energy. Legends has it that they remain mostly invisible to the naked eye, glowing brightly only when the Archon in question touches it, but leaving behind a distinctive trace able to be identified with elemental sight.

However, none of this has been proven at all, and remains mostly as a fantastic tale, just a rumor…

Or is it?

-Barbatos

Venti’s mark rests between your shoulder blades, the small Anemo sigil emulating tiny wings in the most appropriate of places. It makes him fond of calling you his “angel”, though, you know it cannot compare to his own real wings... it makes your heart flutter nonetheless.

It remains mostly covered, and yet without fail, Venti’s hand would always gently rest on it before his hand slides over to your shoulder or waist. At this point the touch soothes you and you’ve come to expect it every time you enter Angel’s share and bright Aqua eyes land on you.

In the dark of night, those precious moments of closeness and passion among the bedsheets, Venti’s nimble fingers, calloused by the Lyre and the bow alike, trail along your spine and stop at the mark, before he leans in and places a kiss on it.

For the God of Freedom to brand someone like this… it would seem as a contradiction, but you know it to be his blessing, his vow to you and your love. As his lips go up to your shoulder and his hands slide down to your waist, sneaking between your legs, he closes his eyes and hums a soft tune.

-Morax

The Geo mark is found on a rather unusual place, and to tell the truth, it even embarrassed you a little at first. The golden diamond placed just below your navel, partially hidden by the line of your underwear. When asked about it, Zhongli simply murmured something about dragon mating, fertility or virility… his cheeks dusted red.

You admit though, that once you get used to it, you do find yourself idly tracing it from time to time. Sometimes it seems to glow softly, or feel warm, perhaps responding to the Archon when he thumbs gently at it, contrasting and comparing with his own blackened arms, etched with veins of gold. Amber eyes staring up at you with love and desire as he places a kiss on it making you shiver.

Zhongli constantly wants to mark you more, in all sorts of ways. Drape you in silks and cover you in gemstones and gold. Leave bite marks along your skin. Douse you in his scent. It appeases his draconic instincts. But nothing compares to that little geo sigil, a personal indisputable claim, tattooed on your skin.

In a way, the mark could be taken as the God of Contracts’ signature and an unbreakable oath to you, his mate. It makes the dragon purr as he rolls his hips into yours, sinking deep inside you and making you whine as his palm presses against it.

-Beelzebul

Right at the center of your collarbone, like a pendant held by an invisible necklace, that is where the Electro mark was placed by Ei. Sometimes it’s a real shame it can’t be seen normally by humans, it would make for a pretty nice tattoo…

It’s not like the Electro sigil is rare to see anyway, quite the contrary, a rather popular choice and common sight all over Inazuma with deep cultural and religious meanings alike honoring Her Excellency. But one look from a youkai or one of the mikos at Narukami shrine and you know this is different.

Ei could act aloof and have a hard time expressing or understanding feelings, but the way she looks at you as she straddles you… dark violet hair cascading down her back and sides, hands roaming your chest and settling at your shoulders. She pins you there under her intense purple gaze and then bends forward to kiss at the sigil before moving to your lips.

The Goddess of Eternity considers her choices deeply and rarely ever goes back on her word or breaks a promise, and that is what she bestows upon you with her mark, a promise. Of love, of respect, of loyalty. Who would’ve thought the Electro Archon could be so… passionate?

-Focalors

You couldn’t believe just where Lady Furina had placed a pretty, blue, Hydro symbol on your skin. When asked about it she’d just giggled and said everything had a reason when it came to divine marks such as these… then proceeded to not explain at all. But seriously, your inner thigh?!

You could only sigh but smile softly at her antics as she laid across the couch, head rested in your lap, taking a nap by using your thighs as pillow, or demanding to be fed more sweets and sputtering indignantly when you poke at her nose or cheek instead, blushing.

She often drives you insane, paying special attention to the hydro marking with kisses and nibbles when you need her lips to go just a little more to the side… but oh, how she enjoyed teasing and riling you up. Mismatched blue eyes blinking coyly under thick eyelashes.

This is Lady Furina’s pledge to you, her word of honor as the Goddess of Justice, to love and cherish you no matter what. For despite her innocent act, she is guilty of having fallen for you.

-Bonus: Buer (Platonic)

Many people underestimate and doubt Nahida. A grave sin, in your opinion. When she places her mark of Dendro softly in your forehead, you feel nothing but pride, willing to follow and defend her and her teachings, for it is an honor to be her acolyte.

You see her wisdom in her actions, in the contemplating looks at her beloved city and people, in the way she always tries to solve problems and learn from difficulties, in her kindness, gentleness and little smiles. You see her love in the way she helps the elderly and soothes the children, in the candied ajilenakh nuts she shares with everyone, in the sparkle of her unique green eyes.

Like any other Archon, her nation and all its inhabitants are like her children. Despite her preferred appearance, the way she holds your hand as she guides you along and brushes at your hair gently with comforting words and praise feel more akin to a mother.  

Just as you trust her, she trusts you, that is the covenant her sigil represents. And in the eyes of the Goddess of Wisdom, one day you’ll reach the sky and stars above.

-Bonus II: Hydro Dragon Sovereign

You stare at the sigil in the palm of your hand. An ancient symbol of power, no doubt, but with a meaning long since lost to time and shrouded in mystery. Yet, its significance is crystal clear to you: “I am yours as you are mine.”

The way the Iudex would always, without fail, hold your hand gently and kiss your palm instead of the back of it as it was traditional would no doubt confuse some people, but it makes your heart skip a beat. This special connection, the knowing look from those gorgeous lavender eyes and the hidden smile pressed against your skin…

Your back arches with a moan as Neuvillette ruts softly into you, slow and reverent, peppering kisses and nuzzling at your neck. His hand takes a hold of yours, fingers intertwining and you shiver as the marking in your palm seems to react. Your grip his hand tighter, canting your hips as well and surrounding him with your legs, asking for more, more, more-

It’s unknown if one day his kind will return to power, just as it’s impossible to predict the flow of the elements and the energy in leylines or just what the future will bring. But for Neuvillette, having you by his side feels like the most refreshing spring water and makes life that much sweeter.

[teaboot]

Reading the comments on the vague post make it clear 1) that the people criticizing you have no reading comprehension and 2) that most of them have never even shoplifted in their lives. "Oh he's saying that face tattoos make you a thief" no you dense motherfucker keeping your tattoos covered is vital to not being identified and it's a lot harder to cover a face tattoo. If this starts discourse about what jobs are ethical vs unethical I'm gonna start blowing things up idc

^^^^ if you are doing ANYTHING, be aware of your tattoos. PLEASE be aware of tattoos. I've seen people I'D by tattoos so many times, if someone sees or records you with a distinct marking anywhere on your body it narrows the pool SIGNIFICANTLY.

I specified the guy with face tattoos not because face tattoos indicate poor morals or criminal behaviour but in a world where nobody remembers your face they will ALWAYS REMEMBER A TATTOO.

Can the average Joe sketch your face, photorealistic, from memory? No. But he can sure as FUCK remember if you had a bird on your cheek or a cross by your eyebrow

[creativepromptsforwriting]

Drabble List #8

75 prompts to write drabbles or longer stories.

"Just one of those days, I guess."

"This makes it easier to identify them."

"Have you ever had friendship bracelets?"

"Feel free to walk all over me."

"You're the one stirring the pot."

"I feel like you don't actually believe me."

"What a tragedy this is."

"This will be permanent."

"Oh well, nothing I can do about it now."

"The media is lying to you - and so is everyone else."

"Just gonna pretend I didn't hear that."

"Silly me to assume you would care."

"You should clean the mess you make."

"My life is amazing, it really is."

"Nothing to complain here."

"I can't believe that we finally made it."

"Thank you so much for this opportunity."

"Mark my words, this will not end cute."

"Have you looked in the mirror lately?"

"You look hot, mama."

"Can you bail me out? Please?"

"What a silly thing to say."

"So, this is it? Really?"

"It will never be truly over."

"That is a fascinating tattoo that you have."

"You're going to jail for this."

"What a dramatic exit."

"I know your friends."

"A seat will be assigned to you shortly."

"Here is a list of all the ways you are wrong."

"We should talk about what happened."

"Do you have your ticket ready?"

"I'm sorry, but our personal goals just don't match up."

"The boxes are all labeled incorrectly."

"Well, you should've listened to me."

"Tragic. That outfit is a disaster."

"I'm sitting front row. I always do."

"Oh you silly little thing."

"What is your star sign?"

"I'm not who you think I am."

"Can't say I'm that surprised."

"Truly legendary."

"Please, sing for me!"

"You are a true party pooper."

"No means don't even try."

"I want to find my soulmate."

"Just forget what you heard."

"Why does this always happen to me?"

"Let's go out for a cheap dinner."

"I don't want to hear about it."

"This must be a joke. Not very good one."

"A list of all the times I was right."

"I can't control my dreams."

"Finally, some common sense."

"Throw me under the bus while you're at it."

"What a wonderful surprise."

"Poor judgement is what it is."

"I was just defending myself."

"Fine, but this will be the last time."

"Oh, that's too bad."

"I will take that as a yes."

"Did we meet before?"

"Sell me your story."

"What's the point in all of this?"

"I couldn't see what actually happened."

"Can you lend me some money?"

"So start from the beginning."

"Truly, a flawless plan."

"I haven't done this in forever."

"Let's have some fun."

"What an icon."

"Make me believe it."

"It's an investment."

"There will be an extra fee included."

"Let's go back. Nothing to do here anymore."

Drabble List #1|List #3|List#4|List #5|List #6|List #7

Have fun creating and writing!

If you like my blog and want to support me, you can buy me a coffee! And check out my Instagram! 🥰

[glassgob]

five oh furst

[First Image ID: Digital illustration of ARC troopers Echo and Fives from Star Wars: The Clone Wars. Echo is kneeling and Fives is standing beside him, both with blasters at the ready. Instead of their traditional design, they have dog features including paws, tail, ears, and muzzle. Echo's hand print is replaced with a paw print.

Second Image ID: Simple digital illustration of the 501st Legion from Star Wars: The Clone Wars as a small pile of sleeping dogs. Each member is identifiable by blue markings on their fur, evoking their armor or their tattoos. End ID.]

[thedreadvampy]

Guys I am BEGGING you to mask up if you're going to counterprotest the fash. They DO take photos and they DO spread them around their networks for targeting reasons.

This is not just targeted at people who consider themselves Serious Radgy Activists, antifa or anarchists.

This is for you, your mum who's angry about people targeting your neighbours, your nan who thinks the racists are being silly, your pals from the pub.

This is for everyone. We all need to stay safe at anti-racist demos.

It can feel paranoid, but things can escalate fast and it's hard to walk back once your photo's out there. A bit of overabundant caution when it's not 100% necessary is better than looking over your shoulder for years or getting jumped unexpectedly in the pub because of a photo you didn't even know was taken.

Honestly, especially with more and more police crackdowns against protesters, this is a good habit to get into at any protest or demo where there's the slightest chance of things kicking off, with fash or with cops.

You don't have to go full black bloc, but even if you're not planning on diving into the fray, stay safe - consider:

Cover your face. Wearing a mask can also help prevent COVID in your network, but if you don't have one or don't want to wear one, cover the bottom half of your face with a snood, balaclava, scarf, etc. If you need to eat, drink, smoke or vape, turn AWAY from the front of the line and ideally duck behind a banner or another person to do it. Keep masked until you're out of line of sight of the demo.

Cover your hair, especially if it's coloured or you have an interesting haircut. I usually part my mohawk down the middle and tie it to disguise the undercut, and bundle it up at the back to disguise the length, before I put on a hat or scarf - but I'm paranoid, and a hat, a headscarf or a hood will be fine. A baseball cap is good too - the brim further obscures your face from a lot of angles.

Cover up big tattoos, or tattoos that are highly identifiable from a distance. I have an upper arm sleeve and I'm honestly still working on summer options for this, but consider long sleeves for arm pieces, a light scarf/bandana for chest/neck tattoos, long trousers or leggings for leg tattoos, and/or gloves if you have hand tattoos (often the easiest to identify cause they're rarer). Even mesh or fishnet can be ok, or in a pinch you can use plasters or draw over it with a felt tip - you don't necessarily need to hide it fully if that's too hard, but try and make it harder to recognise.

If there's an accessory you often have on you in your regular life - colourful shoes, a bag with a fun design, exciting glasses frames, favourite earrings, etc - consider swapping it out for a more generic option. You don't want to put loads of effort into covering your face then get jumped on the way to work because someone recognised your backpack!

Don't help the fash out - if you take any photos, try to avoid including people's faces or tattoos as much as possible. If you post pics on socials, give them a quick once-over and consider putting an emoji or drawing over anyone's face visible.

If you see photos of someone you know at a demo, let them know (especially if they've come from rightwing accounts). If you see one of the fash taking photos, warn people and make the effort to help others cover up if they need it.

We haven't seen fascist/white nationalist mobilisation at this scale in a long time, and most people trying to help haven't dealt with this shit before. The risk factors are different to protests you may have gone on before.

Fash do sometimes come back and target people individually outside of demos if they've marked you out as an enemy. Keep safe, keep covered, keep together.

Few additional safety/security tips:

Once you've arrived at the demo, don't go anywhere alone until you're well away from the area. Stick with a buddy or a group you feel safe with and you're less likely to be jumped. Definitely don't leave on your own.

Cops are not your friends! They've been arresting as many anti-racist activists as racist ones. so remember: no comment, no personal details, don't tell them anything, and this includes blue bib PLOs. If they tell you to do something, ask 'under what power' and if they can't demonstrate that you're legally required, don't.

Don't drink or do drugs at a demo - you're adding risk for everyone around you

If you have your phone with you, make sure it's password-locked. We all sometimes lose or drop our phones and if it gets into the wrong hands you want it to be secure.

If you don't want to risk fighting, that's ok - numbers are still super important and tbh most of us aren't super keen on throwing down. Make sure that if things do seem like they might kick off and you don't think you can defend yourself, that you're moving towards the centre of the crowd and that you're not out on your own.

Look out for each other. Step in if someone's being harassed or attacked - step in as a group so you have more backing, if possible. If you're white, even if you're not able/up for fighting, it can be helpful to be part of a human barrier around people who are more likely to be targeted (eg people of colour and people who are wearing hijab/are otherwise visibly Muslim). When you're surrounded by other people, you're way less likely to get attacked.

If the fash seem to have gone, don't immediately disperse and don't post on socials that you're leaving. Especially if you're defending a specific place, it's very easy for them to wait till you've gone and come back later - give it at least an hour after the expected fash action, ideally longer.

On the flip side, don't be the last small group of people left standing. The usual rule for higher-risk demos is 'when we leave, we leave together as one' - however, for community defence, as above, doing that too early can out the people you're defending at greater risk. However, if there's like 5 of you there when 20 fash come back, you might be screwed - unless you're confident you can handle yourself, try to make sure the counterprotest crowd doesn't fall below 10-15 people. If it does, and you haven't specifically planned for that, you should consider calling it quits and leaving together.

If you're traveling to and from a demo on public transport, keep security in mind - you and the fash may be traveling to and from the same place. As much as possible, stay with buddies. Put away any signs and try not to look like you've just come from a protest. If you feel nervous, consider taking a more roundabout route home, or hopping off the train partway and getting back on the next one.

Don't do the fash's work for them. It's tempting to repost white nationalist calls to action to warn people, but you're kind of just spreading their rhetoric along with it. Instead, keep info to places, times and groups - you don't need to include the fearmongering about immigrants!

Don't post about where you are in too much detail, for the same reason - especially hotels and refuges!!! Fash are targeting those places for a reason, and when you've gone home, the people they're targeting are still there. If you post "we're at X hotel where asylum seekers live," could the wrong person see that and think "oh, that's where the bastards live, I'll remember that"? Remember, it's people's basic safety we're here to defend! Similarly, think about how much detail you share about tactics, who told you or how they knew - on social media you're not only talking to your own side.

also Stand Up To Racism have been at the forefront of a lot of these counterprotests. there's a whole sordid history there which mean a lot of people hate them, but more immediately they're just not always the best example of practical security. Just today they called time on a demo in Newcastle before the advertised fash demos were even due to start, and they are often very free with information and with people's photos. don't take your lead from them! they're playing a role in coordinating things, but ultimately they are not prepared when it comes to keeping either activists or the communities we're protecting safe.

if in doubt, skew on the side of caution - cover up more, share less info, stay in larger groups for longer, and stay later. If you come alone, it's ok to attach yourself to the side of an existing group - they'll understand.

[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?”

[osamucide]

⊹ LOOKIN’ FOR THE ONE THAT WANTS TO MAKE MY NAME A TATTY!

cw: multifandom (bsd+jjk), suggestive, name tattoos!!! all around questionable? feral and whipped and lovesick and possessive and stupid stupid hot men

reid: down bad for this concept and these mfers anyways stream aggy by coco and clair clair

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Who would get your name tattooed on them?

This SCREAMS GOJO. He’s so shameless—he’d get your name tattooed on his asscheek if you asked. He’d let you do it. He’d let it be Comic Sans for the meme. Not because he doesn’t take you seriously—quite the opposite, actually! His six eyes know he won’t ever regret this—he loves you so much and there’s hardly anything in the world he wouldn’t do to put a smile on your face even if it’s dumb. But really, tell him to be for real—suggest along his bicep in a pretty script font and consider it done <3

SUKUNA’S probably going to do this under one condition—he gets to mark you as his too, and this does not necessarily mean you also get a tattoo. But let’s say you do! I think he wants yours between your tits on your sternum running vertical, and he’ll probably get his in the exact same place—exact same font, exact same color. . .there, or down his spine, or if he’s feeling especially soft the day of the appointment, across his Achilles tendon, for obvious reasons—don’t make him say it.

If this screams anyone else on this list, it’s TOJI. He won’t even hesitate; he’s not exactly the most responsible guy around, but you like him, and he thinks you’re perfect—why the hell shouldn’t he have your name wrapped around his upper arm like a cuff, especially if it means your eyes light up and you flash him that gorgeous smile? Just don’t be too surprised when you find his baby mother’s name haphazardly covered up/half removed somewhere else on him.

I can see NANAMI doing this a few years into marriage, maybe, but doing it nonetheless. Look at him—he’s the dictionary definition of a keeper, and this is hardly any different to him than never taking off his wedding ring (and believe me, once you’ve got him on lock I mean he never takes it off). Matching ones would be especially alluring to him—you’re his one and only, and he hardly gives a thin and subtle sans-serif tattoo of your name on his upper thigh a second thought. What’s more is he’s enamored with kissing the spot where you get his name <3

This may or may not be me pushing my tattooed CHUUYA agenda but whatever. I think he’d be SO down for this. He’d probably make a little date out of it—drive you to the nicest tattoo shop in Yokohama under the guise of wanting to pay for whatever piece you want on yourself—tattoo or piercing—and sit patiently while you get it done, and then ‘decide last-minute’ that he’ll get one too, what the hell, and tell you not to look until it’s finished. Some elegant, masculine script font behind his ear that’s visible when he pulls his hair back <3

TACHIHARA is so grounded in what he loves. I’m 100% willing to bet he has a tattoo for his brother. Your name, too, tattooed on the outside of his shoulder, is like a badge of honor to him—everything he does, he does with you in mind. His only regret is how every uniform he wears covers it; he truly would’ve gotten it on his neck just above his shirt collar or on the back of his hand if it wouldn’t make him so easily identifiable. I can see him liking a traditional calligraphy font—only the prettiest for the love of his life <3

Funny how the man who knows nothing he desires can be permanent gets your name tatted on him. I think the prospect of having your name in his skin forever is just so hot, so romantic to DAZAI—there’s poetry in it however your relationship ends up unfolding. He knows he’s in love with you. In some way or another, no matter how he might end up driving you away, regardless of if you end up hating him for the monster he really is, even if you end up dying hand in hand like he hopes for, you’ll always own a piece of his heart and it’s evident in the pretty serif font he got buzzed across his hipbone <3

I include NIKOLAI in every one of my unhinged headcanons but I just can’t see him being anything less than ENTHUSIASTIC TO BOOT in a relationship. He is all in! You put up with his crazy, you drive away his sadness, you hold him so sweetly—the way you love him truly makes him feel on top of the world. And in true Nikolai fashion, I think he has your name in a font of your choice tatted right over his heart. Kiss it, bite it, trace it, lick it—he loves letting you know he’s all yours <3

[inkstainedhandswithrings]

if you’re having a good day, don’t read this, because I’m about to ruin it!

Fives’s most identifiable mark is his tattoo of the number 5.

And for the longest time (even now) Echo’s most identifiable mark was the handprint. But as we all know, a hand has FIVE fingers, so it could be interpreted as a hand sign for the NUMBER 5.

So basically, Fives’s mark is repeated or echoed by Echo.

That is, of course, until he wakes up from stasis on Skako. He could very easily ask Rex to put another handprint on his armour, a callback to old times, reclaim his identity, etc. etc.

But why would he? There’s no one left to echo, to compare and compete with, to assimilate with. So from there on out, he just… omits it.

There is an argument to be made that this shows his character growth of becoming his own person, but that is because he was forced to it.

just gonna,,, @saturn-sends-hugs @phantom-of-the-501st yea :D

[space-dreams-world]

DPXDC soulmate prompt au:

Everyone has a soulmate. Even if the way you meet your soulmate is different, you can still feel a click in place. Even with different species, romantically or platonically, and multiple soulmates. ( like one person has by sight, and their soulmate is by touch. Basically, you can have soulmates with the same markings or two different types and still work)

So, Danny, after becoming Phantom and dealing with the ghosts, finally finds a way to shut down the Portal around his last year of high school, and multiple people aren't happy about that, i.e. his parents, the ghosts, Sam, the GIW, and even Vlad as he was banking on the fentons for his shit to work, and he had plans surrounding Danny's family.

He gets run out of town by Amity and his parents after they uncover his secret. Danny then spends the next few years in space, discovering aliens.

(During his disappearance, the GIW are disbanded, Vlad doesn't have access to the zone anymore and asking for him to search in space is a permadeath sentence for him, his parents regret their Gung ho attitude and miss him. In a twist of faith, an accident kills them off, and they are working through their regrets in the zone, waiting to see Danny so they can pass)

Now, as I mentioned at the top, this is a soulmate au, so in Death, Danny is able to get a feel for soulmate, like if his soulmate had a marking for him to recognize even if his soulmate identifier is lock on sight. (He essentially has an advantage of figuring out his significant other as he has his soulmate symbol on him.)

So, whose Danny significant other? Look no further than Gotham depressed himbo dad, Bruce Wayne, whose soulmate identifier is a tattoo of Danny's mark.

This could be pretty early on in his hero career or after Duke is a part of the Bats, but basically, Bruce goes on a space mission with the league and in one of their stints to get info, Danny immediately recognizes Batman's mark which was his soulmate clue. So, Danny, who hasn't spoken human or been on earth in years, has zero in on him,but they don't get to talk before Bruce heads back to earth, but Bruce knows there is something off about the possible alien man.

On Bruce's side, he hasn't seen anyone that has made it work, except if if you want to make it a polycule with Superman. (Dick has his redhead squad or the titans, Jason ends up with Roy or someone else, Tim has Bernard and Kon, and Damian is starting to platonically be friends with Jon. Cass has found her soulmate in Stephanie.

(The Joker is a weird case where he has a soulmate that isn't born yet or died already, or he has no one and that why he is crazy and scars the Bat symbol on him as he sees his enemy with no soulmate either.)

Anyway, something big happens on earth, like an invasion, and the Bat is almost killed before a bright light descends upon the sky and removes the threat. Batman, once recovering his sight, sees the same masked alien man from before. Once they regroup, the masked man removes his helmet, and Bruce finally gets his soulmate connection. Danny has aged significantly since his first departure of earth and attempting to relearn earth's customs and figure out what happened with his family and friends.

( Jazz is soulmates with Talia and is in a secret relationship with her after Damian is made.

Sam is soulmates with Paulina but despises this, which causes her some mental instability, and refuses to acknowledge their bond, somehow still banking on Danny being her knight, and rebrands herself as Pamela Isley or Poison Ivy and finds love in Harley.

Tucker actually renames himself after Amity as Silas Stone and has a child. He works with Alien Tech to see if he can find his best friend again.

Dani is only made after Danny's return to earth but loves her indefinitely as he feels that the Portal had robbed him of a good life with offspring.

And Dan is working on his aggression in the zone.)

[idyllcy]

easter lillies

word count: 2.6k

summary: you thought he wasn't too big on the soulmate thing.

"OW," You hiss as you jolt awake, a sting in your ribs. A flurry of flowers blooms where your soulmate's wound was, making you grimace as you look in your mirror. It's the fifth bruise this week. It really makes you wonder what kind of nonsense your soulmate was up to. It was almost as if they were one of those vigilantes your friends were screaming over. To be fair, you like them too, and he was technically one before.

You like them a normal amount... whatever the hell that means.

You pop a painkiller as you go back to sleep, the rest of your night going undisturbed.

You wake up with seven more flowers sewn across your upper back. But you've grown used to it,  the flowers all treated as some tattoo on your skin, your skin showing where it needs to be, hidden where you don't want it shown. You would prefer that your soulmate didn't have bruises all over his skin, but it made him easier to identify. Well, it made you easier to identify. The flowers all over your skin are more eye-catching than any clothes you wear.

The flowers have been a part of you for as long as you can remember.

At seven, you shrieked when you woke up with flowers all over your legs and skin, sobbing as your parents tried explaining that it was just marks from your soulmate's skin and not some magical demon who had tattooed flowers all over your body.

Somewhere on your soulmate, they have a red flower on their ring finger, a mole you grew up with.

"Iced latte with oat milk!" 

You reach for the cup, pressing the cup to your lips as you head off.

You hiss as a flower blooms on your finger. Seriously? A papercut?

You grimace, exhaling slowly as you press the coffee back to your lips, agitated.

Truth was, you knew who your soulmate was. He was a dead man. Your mother brought home a photo of a young boy around your age, Bruce Wayne's second son, an autopsy done on his body, scars matching your flowers, and you begged her to see him. His funeral wasn't open to the public, but you had shown them the flowers all over your body and how you heard his body was wounded beyond repair, and then finally the autopsy scar you had on your own body, and they let you in. You didn't feel sad that he died. You didn't know him.

but you mourned over what the two of you could have been.

just.

a little.

You didn't ask for anything from Bruce, just a couple of moments to stare at him through the open coffin, checking his ring finger for your red flower, expression falling when you remembered how many flowers were scattered across your body. His name was Jason— Bruce told you. He liked reading books and talking to his teachers, he liked tinkering with cars and his older brother. You were told everything about the boy, his diary given to you as a memorial. 

"Jason would have wanted you to have this." Bruce had said.

You doubt Bruce would have given it to you had he known Jason was documenting all of his adventures as Robin in it. You didn't tell Bruce, you didn't tell your parents, you didn't tell anyone. The boy was dead and you knew it.

At seventeen on a random morning, a new flower bloomed around your ankle. A green one on your heart, and a blue one on your ankle.

You would have passed it off as an error in the universe had you not been screaming in pain when the green one bloomed. You were rushed to the hospital and sedated in tears, the burn too much for you. When you woke up, a blue one on your ankle had formed too, and you were told that your soulmate must be alive. Whether it be from this universe or another, your soulmate was back.

It made you sick to no end. 

That meant that Jason, that poor boy, was resurrected like some science experiment.

Nowadays, you spend your time sorting through papers in Bruce's company, drinking expensive coffee, working a job that you got through connections. Bruce had given it to you without second thought. No one likes sorting through legal documents and risking getting fired because of a single mistake without some sort of insurance. You just wanted a house to live in. You get bored these days. Sometimes when you see a worker's soulmate visit them, you wonder what it would be like if Jason were still alive.

Well, alive legally.

It's kind of hard to find a man that's legally dead but technically alive.

Bruce hasn't told you shit either, and according to Jason's diary... he probably wouldn't tell you anything unless you dragged yourself down to the Batcave yourself. 

and that? you don't plan on.

You settle with working on papers until it's 5, pausing when you notice something that definitely did not belong with the rest of the pile. You don't want to know what the paper was doing in a pile of business documents, but it's not your problem. You should probably get them to Bruce.

You find the rest of the document in the pile and mumble to yourself, dialing the home phone.

"Hello?"

"Alfred." You exhale in relief. "Bruce left um... papers in the office that don't belong here and I don't think they can be shredded... could I send it to the mansion right now?"

"Would you like to stay for dinner?"

"Oh, no. I'll head home after, but I appreciate the thought." You smile. "I'll head over right now."

"I shall bring you some cookies, then."

"Oh... I won't say no to that." You laugh. "See you in twenty."

In retrospect, showing up to Wayne Manor right before sunset was probably not the smartest thing you've ever done, but it isn't exactly the worst thing you've done either. You ring the doorbell and blink in surprise at the sight of... who is this?

"You are?"

"I'm here to hand Alfred some personal files that Bruce got mixed up into the business ones." You tilt your head. "You are?"

"Just call me Jay." He nods. "Alfred's in the kitchen. Should I take you there?"

"Please do." You nod. 

"So who are you?"

"Um, I sort through files in the office. Are you one of Bruce's kids?"

"You're really close with the old man, huh?"

"Not really." You mumble. "You use the connections you have in life when you get lazy."

"Why not just have him fund you?"

"I'm not holding his dead son over his head for something like that." You grumble. "How are you related to him?"

The man's lip quirks up in amusement. "I'm one of his dead sons."

"One? He has more than one dead son?"

He shrugs. "Alfred. The little aide is here."

"My apologies for not greeting you at the door. I shall take the papers from you." He nods. "Here are your cookies."

"Thank you, Alfred." You smile. 

"Master Jason, could you take them back?"

You freeze, staring up at him. "You're Jason?"

"In the flesh." He smiles. "Nice meeting you, soulmate."

You blink at him slowly. "Wow, for a zombie, you look real good."

"Thank you."

"If someone sleeps with you, does that make it necrophilia?"

"I wouldn't go that far, doll." Jason raises a brow at you.

You shrug. "Thank you, Alfred. I'll get going now."

"Will we see you around?"

"Not unless Bruce gets his papers messed up again."

Jason sends you out, but neither of you really talk to each other. He doesn't ask, so you don't give. Besides, it's not as if you could date someone... dead, or something. You're not quite sure what to make of Jason. Well, not like you had to live with him. If your soulmate died once, you're sure you can live another day without seeing him.

Except he can't.

You wake up at 2 with a giant flower in your stomach area, and you shove a painkiller down your throat, heaving as you down as much water as possible to try and speed up the pill's effect, your head spinning. Jason probably got stabbed or something. You don't want to know, but you find that you don't have much of a choice when Dick shows up at your door with Jason in his arms, and you grimace. 

"Sorry for abusing your care, but—"

"If I had a dime for each time I've had to wrap up a bleeding man, I'd be as rich as B." You grumble. "What is it this time? Does he need stitches? Is the mansion too far?"

"Too far."

"I'm fine." Jason coughs. "I can make it back."

"Yeah, with a wound like that? I think the fuck not." You wince as you peel his jacket off, revealing a large gash. "I thought you wore armor?"

"Stabbed through. Human inventions do nothing against foreign forces." Dick mumbles, finding your kit.

You catch as Dick tosses you the first aid kit. "You're paying rent for me this month." You deadpan, resting Jason on your knees as you sterilize a needle. "Any pieces inside the wound?"

"Nothing."

"Scream if you need to." You start on the wound, making haste as Jason throws his head back, gasping as you pierce through his skin to sew it back together. The feeling has long been normalized in your skin as you finish and tie the thread. You wrap the wound, helping Jason sit up when you're done. You look up at Dick, and he sighs.

"We'll cover costs for this month."

"Thank you." You get up. "Anything else?"

"B said you can skip work for the rest of the week." He pauses. 

Right. It's not like B would tell it to your face, but his kids were not slick when it came to crashing your place to get wounds fixed up. You don't know how the word got to them that you had taken a mock-surgery class in high school, but they did not spare you when it came to wound dressing. You don't even know how Robin had managed to find your address when you moved out. Sure, Dick was older than Jason and probably found out somehow, but Robin? Seriously?

"Alright. Now get out."

"What would your coworkers think if they saw you like this?"

"Um... I don't care." You smile. "out."

"Jaybird, aren't you glad your soulmate knows how to close wounds?" Dick sighs. "We're crashing the couch."

"Then don't be loud." You give him a thumbs up. "I'm sleeping. The wound hurts."

"Will do." He nods.

You lock your door as you go back to bed, turning off your alarms as your back hits the mattress, knocking out. 

The sun hits your eyes in the morning when you wake, and the smell of butter flutters through the room as you sit up, slightly confused before remembering Dick brought Jason to your apartment last night. You appreciate that they at least get rid of the suits before knocking on your door. Besides, you think Dick only brought Jason to you and not a safehouse was because you're his soulmate. Soulmates be dammed, you want at least one week where you aren't patching up someone from the Waynes unmasked.

"Good morning." You mumble.

"Morning." Jason nods. "I made breakfast as a thank you."

"Thank you." You mumble. "You'll need a couple of days with a wound like that."

"Did it hurt?"

You raise a brow at him, pressing your mug to your lips.

"What?"

"The wound."

"No. It didn't." You deadpan. "No shit, of course it did."

"I saw... painkillers scattered across the apartment."

"Yeah." You answer him as if it's the most normal thing in the world. It isn't. It's not supposed to be. Jason knows that much. It's not. You know it too. No average person has painkillers scattered across the apartment like decoration. "Why?"

"Is it because I get injured so much?"

You snort.

"No. It's obviously because I got beat to death by a crowbar and had to get sent to the hospital because I didn't die from it, I only felt every single wound inflicted on my body and had to live with it since I'm immortal and all." You roll your eyes. "Oh, not to mention that I frequent the hospital so much that the workers there all know me by name. Oh, don't even get me started on how the pharmacists don't even need me to hand them a prescription anymore. And!!! I'm not even going to think about the fact that almost every inch of my body has been covered in flowers at some point. Though, the autopsy pattern is a great conversation starter at raves." You trail off.

Jason's eyes trail down to your stomach peeking through your shirt.

The guilt. The guilt eats him alive.

"Can we start over?" He blinks slowly. "I... I'm sorry."

"If you're really sorry, you can pull out of the vigilante business." You shrug. "I don't want a sorry. I want less tattoos and less painkillers consumed."

"You seem used to this."

"I woke up with twelve flowers across my back when I turned seven." You pause. "since then, it's been normal to wake up with a couple of new ones... save for the years you were dead."

"Ah." Jason blinks slowly. "I'm sorry. I can't stop."

"I know." You mumble. "Just... stay safe."

"I'll keep that in mind."

But it bites you in the ass as more flowers bloom across your skin, even if they're no longer painful. Small bruises, doses of pain that you've grown used to, doses of pain that no longer affect how your day goes, doses of pain that no longer matter to you. You appreciate that he isn't breaking bones anymore. You sleep through the night much more these days. 

But you don't see Jason.

You wonder...

nope. not possible.

WRONG!

You tilt your head as Dick smiles sheepishly at your door again. This time, he's the one bleeding.

"Sorry, too far away from the mansion, and Dickhead insisted on visiting." Jason explains. "He's not dying. He just needs some ice."

"You'd think he's impossible to be harmed, huh?" You let the two in. "So? Are you leaving by car?"

"We'll figure it out." 

You lay Dick on the couch as you wince at the bruises on his body. "You must really hate your soulmate."

"She hates me too. We're even." Dick smiles.

"I don't doubt that." You mumble. "Seriously." You dress his wound, sighing. 

There's an elephant in the room. Now you forgot whether or not Dick knows you know he's Nightwing.

Maybe he does..? You don't remember, and you're too tired to ask.

"I'm kicking you out after this."

"You let us stay when Jaybird was hurt but not when I am?" Dick gasps in faux offense.

"You're not my soulmate. Shoo."

Dick sighs dramatically as Jason takes him out, and you toss Jason your car keys.

"Drive him back."

"Will do. I'll get it back to you tomorrow."

"Take your time. I don't need to get anywhere anyway."

Jason is... strange. You're not used to his presence around you. 

He drops by your place with every single excuse in the book— he's got a bruise, he's out of eggs, he's hungry, he got a free drink from the store and thought of you. You don't know. Quite frankly, the fact that Jason dropped by so often was concerning. What the hell was he even doing? You thought he didn't like soulmates.

"I brought—"

"I set the table already." You sigh, letting him in. "I thought you didn't like soulmates?"

"It may have..." Jason goes quiet, last word coming out as incoherent mumble.

"Hm?"

"May have grown on me." He whispers. 

You blink at him slowly, eyes wide as you stop to stare at him.

"What."

"The whole... soulmates thing." He swallows, suddenly feeling shy. "Grew on me."

Your cheeks grow warm as you stare at him with wide eyes, heart racing in your chest. "It grew on you?"

"It grew on me."

"Yeah?"

Jason smiles. "So I'd like to..."

"Better be worth it, corpse boy."

"I promise." Jason whispers. "I promise."

[windser]

PLEASE write out that sylus work. The fandom beeds more spicy MCs and i can tell she would give him a run for his money

pairing: mc x sylus (soulmate!au) wc: 1.2k+

a/n: loooool here is just a bit of a teaser for how i imagined it all playing out. i highly doubt this is how mc and sylus will meet BUT its so fitting for how i image their dynamic playing out. but i really do want to wait for the official drop so I can confirm his characterization. [based on this post]

⋆.ೃ࿔.𖥔 ݁ ˖*:･༄ ⋆.ೃ࿔.𖥔 ݁ ˖*:･༄⋆.ೃ࿔.𖥔 ݁ ˖*:･༄⋆.ೃ࿔.𖥔 ݁ ˖*:･༄⋆.ೃ࿔.𖥔 ݁ ˖*:･༄

"he’s asking for me ?"

"he identified you by your mark."

your palm immediately goes to cover your wrist, blocking the neat scrawl from view. but it was little too late at this point.

you had never really taken care to hide your soulmate mark from the world. to bear it publicly was often a act of seeking from the individual, showing it proudly as if it might attract their pair sooner.

but for you, it was just as obscure seen or hidden, the mundaneness lining the words that felt like it would never truly have meaning.

‘you’re beautiful’

in your youth days, you thought it was the most romantic gesture to know that your fated person had such a high option of you at first glance. but the years tarnished that same phrase, after hearing it from too many loose lips with hollower intentions.

now it was just a first tattoo, fated second.

the slouch of your shoulder is nonchalant in gesture, though equally weighed down by the situation. “he probably just has intel on it. i’m too careless in the field if i can be identified so easily."

it was a crude bluff, a mere diversion from the pending truth. because yes, it was an indefinite, but only one individual in the world would ever need to find someone based on it.

besides this was the presumed leader of onichynus.

even considering the idea was a headache.

tara shuffles to the right at the sound of your name and you both look up to see jenna waiting, ready by the door.

her quiet nod feels like a direct pang to your temple.

right, a headache indeed.

࿓࿓༄༄࿓

though captured, albeit suspiciously easy, the operation did not come without effort. reportedly there were no casualties but it had been a battle enough in the end.

jenna warns you of as much as the two of you descend further into lower levels of the security facility. there weren’t many criminals who fit the eligibility to be locked behind maximum security. the hiss of the heavy steel doors partying to grant entry spoke volumes about the threshold needed to hold such a threat.

the leader of onichynus was an old tale but not the first. it never occurred to you until now what other individuals might be stored away here for the safety of linkon city.

“ma’am”

the hunter standing before the last sealed door saluted jenna with a stiff salute, the action drawing your attention to the smear of red against his palm.

a battle indeed.

jenna answers with a more tempered gesture, less precise with exhaustion.

“any changes?”

you’d been sent home early into the conclusion of the operation, leaving the higher ups to decide how to deal with the sour victory. it had been less than twelve hours since then and you doubted jenna spent a second of it resting.

the same could he said of the officer standing guard who looked like if he leaned against the wall for even a moment he would slump over.

“none.”

his gaze flicked briefly to you, then down. “is this...?”

it seemed that the leader of onichynus was very vocal with his demands. even without tara's penchant for information, it was now no wonder how everyone knew of your predicament.

you had taken care to clasp your arms behind your back but it seemed the damage was already done.

“the deal was confirmation enough, though at this point it’s all formality.” jenna is addressing you now. her lips turn as she observes the door as if she could see through it. perhaps feeling the aura was enough.

“this is late to mention but you don’t have to do this.”

tardy indeed given that she had already led you to the lion’s den. your face seems to display enough of that sentiment given her sigh.

“if this is true-“ if this man if truly your soulmate, goes unsaid. “then council will reassess the situation.”

the words taste asinine even when they don’t come from your mouth. it wasn’t as if your fate could twist their judgement. the man behind those doors has earned his sentence, it was too late to draw you into the equation.

besides, what would you even do with a criminal as a soulmate? this early in the game, you could cut your loses and actually prepare for a non-fated pairing.

what you did know was that nothing was going to change with one-half meeter of steel between you.

“well let’s see what’s behind door number three.”

jenna doesn’t comment on the joke, likely attributing it to nerves. but in truth, you were just as ready as everyone else to get this over with.

given you had not been present at the exact capture, the face of onichynus still a mystery to you. though this close, you couldn’t help but recall that feeling of the ominous gaze hanging over you. it was one of the few times you had placed the feeling out of your nightmares. the knowledge that it came from the individual fate had decided to pair you with may as well have been the jest of the century.

so yeah you want this over with so you could get the last laugh.

with Jenna’s assent, the officer clears the few steps needed to join his peers where after a short order, the final steel doors began to part.

jenna doesn’t move forward, so neither do you. though you can’t help the slight tense in your limbs as you prepare for ... what a fight or flight?

there was research, anecdotes and stories about the first gaze but you never really summed up what you thought your experience would be.

‘you’re beautiful’

you’d heard it so many times before. would it really be so different this time?

what you notice first is the bareness of the room, appearing as just that, an empty space. well not completely empty; for at its center was a man. one who someone took up every parameter while only being rooted in a single square.

UNICORNS holding measures were … questionable, leaving him in a simple chair with only what you imagined were handcuffs to keep him rooted. this man who nearly cleared an entire squadron. though you supposed an escape wouldn’t come easy for him.

him, who was not just a man, but the dangerous leader to an illegal organization chasing the aether core. a figure with ashen hair and vermillion eyes. a figure with ashen hair and vermillion eyes, likely deprived of rest since his capture, though he didn't give off the impression of losing any sleep over it. he also sported more than a few smudges of dark crimson, making him appear every bit as dangerous as his lore suggested.

you think you hear a sound of protest from jenna as you take a challenging step forward, but it falls on deaf ears as inquisitiveness wins out.

he certainly fit the bill of a criminal figure. yet as he sat there, chained to a simple chair, chest rising with each breath with that slight tilt of his lips. there was just something else that made it hard to believe that this could possibly be your soulmate, questionable choices aside.

the man seemed to take your silence as an invitation as he spoke first.

“you’re beautiful.”

and in that instance, all of the violence and ominousness bled away, leaving just a man tied to a chair with dark eyes looking up at you with expectation.

you don’t realize your lips are curling downward as your eyes flicker back to his hands which were pinned behind his back.

and with your next words you sealed your fate forever.

“sorry, I’m not into subs.”