#Soul mate au
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Soul Mate AU
Soulmarks: tattoo like in appearance, soul marks form on all involved parties when the youngest member reaches their age of majority. Touching someone's soulmark without their consent is considered incredibly taboo and violating. Touching someone’s soulmark when baring the matching mark is supposed to be incredibly pleasurable for all parties involved, more so if it is the two marks that are touching.
ref link, tho I'm gonna put the same soulmark descriptions under each character anyway
Contents: DoL relationships; Avery's anger issues; public stuff; doctor/patiant, mildly; talk of cutting (Kylar's section); teacher/student, mildly; farm fuckery (aka, Remy's whole fucking section); cat Bailey AU; FUCT Robin AU; Yandere Avery AU; Eldritch PC AU
Words: 2608
Alex
(93)
Geometric shapes. Bold, dark lines. Elbow to shoulder on their right arm.
Loves touching your soulmark. Loves you touching their soulmark. Loves all of it.
Higher dominance Alex is likely to brush their hand down your soul mark whenever they have the chance. Even if it might be considered “rude” to do so in front of others.
Lower dominance waits for more private moments. A teasing stroke over your mark while shielded from prying eyes, shivering if you return the favor and ghost a hand over their mark.
Loves cuddling in the morning, pressed against each other, absentmindedly tracing the lines of your matching marks.
Avery
(153)
Thin, delicate, lace like lines across their collar bones. Ends in thick, jagged lines going down their sternum
God, there’s so much pressure on you to act absolutely perfect if you actually want Avery to let you walk around with a matching mark.
That said, they like touching your mark.
At low anger, they’re tender, tips of their fingers gliding over the marks.
They may even let you touch their marks, though not often. It’s very rare for Avery to allow it. Something about you touching their marks makes them feel out of sorts, out of control. So, it’s only when they’re drained from work that they indulge in the lazy pleasure of allowing you to take care of them in this way. A hand tucked between their legs and your tongue tracing their marks.
High rage Avery presses down on your marks hard enough to make your vision blur, pain mixed into the act that would normally bring pleasure. But, you won’t make them do that too often, will you?
Bailey
(215)
Thin lines that crisscrosses their lower stomach in an intricate pattern and circles around their upper thighs.
It’s a stupid situation, trying to wrangle one of their brats in their own fucking office, it that’s Bailey’s life: stupid situation after stupid fucking situation.
Except when you headbutt their stomach, shirt having ridden up from the physical activity, and your skin brushes over the marks that had only recently bloomed across their skin, it somehow gets worse.
What do you mean that the pain they brace themself for never comes? Or, it does, but mostly covered in strange euphoria.
But, Bailey knows what that means, new anger sparking within them and fueling their ability to pin you down, to tear at your clothes, to expose your mark.
Your mark that matches Bailey’s.
And they press down on it, thumbs digging into the soft of your thighs as you squirm under them. They hope you feel more pain than pleasure.
They have to keep you, they think. Who knows how you could be used against them if others find out?
And what are you to them, anyway? Important, one way or another, apparently.
So, fuck you.
Varey rarely touches your marks after that and forbids you from touching their’s.
Yet, sometimes, you’ll wake up with Bailey’s hands pressed against the mark, palm flat and fingers splayed, dark eyes fixed on that point of contact.
Briar
(108)
One thick line running over the knuckles on their right hand.
Oh, new lil star walking into Briar’s lovely establishment with marks that match the one that just recently bloomed across their knuckles. How interesting.
Enjoys taking your hand in theirs, ringed thumb rolling over the mark on your knuckles, watching you shiver at such a simple action.
Especially likes touching your marks in public and letting others see how it affects you.
That said, not keen on you doing the same to them. When especially tense, they don't mind the pad of your thumb following the line across the ridges of their knuckles while in their office. Lets their head tilt back, eyes shutting as their muscles relax.
Black Wolf
(83)
Jagged marks under their left eye
It's actually quite easy to overlook their mark, looking almost like a scar.
Brushing your thumb over the mark has Black Wolf relaxing, regardless of if they’re the alpha or not.
When they’re the alpha, they’ll climb on top of you, rutting against your thigh as you trace the mark.
When you’re the alpha, they roll over, wanting you to straddle them as your fingers linger.
As for them, they like licking your mark, regardless of how close to your eye it is.
Darryl
(88)
A thick ring around their left pinky
So nervous when they realize they share a mark with you.
Covers up their own mark and it takes them a while to build up the courage to tell you that you have matching marks.
Very gentle the first time they touch your mark, asking if it’s okay in a voice barely above a whisper, fine tremor running through their hands.
Nervous when you first touch their mark, but doesn’t regret it a bit.
Likes hooking your pinkies together, a cross between holding hands and a pinky promise.
Doren
(103)
Looks like the letters of a dead language encircling their right wrist.
Will not let you touch it in public, and that goes double when at school.
Also won’t touch your mark in public.
Well, they might if it’s to calm you down if you’re having a particularly rough day, though behind the privacy of a closed door or secluded corner.
Very gentle when they touch your mark, brushing over your wrist like it’s something fragile, breakable.
Only really allows you to touch their mark when at their apartment, though if you’re holding hands then it’s easy to pretend that it’s an accident if you press your marks together and make Doren stumble a little.
Eden
(139)
Thick, almost painful looking lines over their left breast and going up their neck. Stops under their jaw.
Don’t touch their marks.
Don’t do it.
Even though you bare their match, their mirror, do not touch Eden’s marks.
At least, not until they trust you.
Even then, you’re risking your ass to touch Eden’s marks.
They like it, though it feels incredibly vulnerable, thus, don’t do it.
You can get away with it during sex, usually. Unless they’re punishing you. Then you’re gonna get slapped.
Also more likely to get away with touching their marks when they’re falling asleep, little shiver of pleasure running through them as they drift off.
All this said, they’re touching your marks whenever the fuck they want.
Especially loves grabbing you by the chin and rubbing their thumb along the marks under your jaw. Double so if you’ve been acting like a brat. A good reminder that you’re theirs, no matter what.
Great Hawk
(59)
Small intersecting circles under their right eye.
Please touch their marks.
So proud of their marks now that they’ve come in and they adore you paying any attention to them.
Chirps every time you touch them, all puffed up.
Often nuzzles your marks. Loves brushing against them with their feathers.
Favorite time to have their marks touched or to touch your marks is when flying together.
Gwylan
(75)
Very complex markings running down the length of their spine.
It’s rare for their marks to be visible and is at a loss for words when they find out you wear their match.
Doesn’t really like them touched, to be honest. It’s weirdly intense, with it being along their spine and all.
Only really likes it if you run a feather light finger down their spine. Not too much pressure, just enough for them to feel it.
Also not big on touching your marks, either.
Harper
(102)
Thin, barely noticeable spirals on their tongue.
God they're so fucking ecstatic to touch your mark at all fucking times.
Every time you see Harper, they wanna check your tongue, rubbing their thumb over the marks.
You're really lucky they haven't yet found a way to do away with the gloves yet when in the hospital.
If you're ever in the asylum, they're not wearing gloves.
Would adore you touching their marks if they weren't on their tongue. Makes it kinda hard to remain “professional.”
That said, when they get to kiss you or coach you into kissing them, they nearly cream their pants from your soul marks touching.
Kylar
(80)
Soft, faded looking lines that weave up their right arm like tendrils. Starts at their wrist, ends at their elbow.
Touch!
Kylar's!
Marks!
Please!
Touching each others marks calms them down so fast.
Aggravates their jealousy like nothing else if you refuse to let them touch your marks.
Always gets a soft look in their eyes when touching marks.
Babbles about it when hysterical, rubbing your marks almost painfully hard. Why are you acting like this when there's proof right here that you are meant for them?
Maybe they should make sure your marks are deeper, more prominent, with their knife…
Leighton
(109)
Bands around their right knee
They’ll know you’re soulmates long before you do.
And they’re not telling you, either.
Likes the spark of fear in your eyes when their hand first cups your knees, the confusion when pleasure runs up your spine when their thumb brushes the mark.
Lets you stew, thinking something wrong with you, like you’re a pervert for feeling pressure when Leighton, someone who isn’t your soulmate, touches your mark.
Would probably let you go on like that for a while, only revealing it as a power play.
Doesn’t want you just randomly grabbing at their mark, but likes when you place your hand on their mark when giving them head.
Mason
(77)
Looks like gills on either side of their neck.
Don’t touch their marks.
Don’t touch them at school.
Don’t look at them.
Don’t acknowledge they’re your soulmate.
Their authority as a teacher is already undermined by their age and now this? One of their students is their soulmate?
Please say this is a bad joke.
But, at the pond, when they’ve gotten to know you, maybe.
Lets their eyes close as your fingers brush over them.
Hesitant on touching your marks but will if you insist.
Remy
(161)
Small, dark spots behind their left ear. Some might say it's a cow print pattern.
Fuck you.
They’ll never notice it if you drop into the riding school. Nor if you’re just Alex’s silly little partner.
No, the only way Remy finds you’re soulmate is during new cattle intake.
And they’re pissed.
They’re always wearing their gloves, so at least you don’t react when they find it.
They’ll keep you in the dark about your matching marks.
And then they keep you isolated until they figure out what the fuck to do with you.
Obedient cattle will find out eventually when they tug their gloves off, cupping your face and letting their thumb brush over your marks while you eat an apple out of their other hand.
Disobedient cattle find out when Remy has finally had it with you, ripping off their gloves and pressing their thumb against your marks so hard that it's more pain than pleasure, making your knees buckle and your will to fight flicker.
Regardless, they won’t let you touch their marks.
Robin
(85)
Thin, soft, intricate swirls in the middle of their chest.
IT’S THEIR FAVORITE THING.
It’s so comforting, their best friend sharing their soulmark.
Huge boost of confidence anytime one of you touches the others marks.
Very flustered the first time due to the placement but gets more comfortable with it as time goes on.
Not big on touching soulmarks in public but only because of the placement.
Low confidence Robin might be persuaded to touch soulmarks in semi public areas.
High confidence Robin might try to persuade you to touch soulmarks in semi public areas.
Sydney
(98)
Two thin lines starting at their shoulder blades and ending at their hips.
Even though soulmarks are considered a divine symbol of love between partners, Sydney is hesitant to touch yours or let you touch theirs.
The higher their purity, the more likely they are to wait until you two are bound by the temple before touching soulmarks.
The more corrupt they become, the more likely it is that you can coax Sydney into taking off their shirt and letting you trace the marks on their back.
At their most corrupt, Sydney will slip their hand up the back of your shirt in somewhat public places to stroke over your marks.
Whitney
(126)
Fluid, swirling lines on the inside of their right thigh.
I hope you like wearing skirts ‘cause Whitney wants you in one at all times so they can hike it up and grab at your marks.
And they will do that wherever they feel like.
At low dominance, they’ll stop if you tell them to at least?
Also, if you don’t wear a skirt, they’ll try to get their hands down your pants whenever they feel like messing with you and your marks.
And hey, Whitney is your soulmate. Shouldn’t you want to do shit that’ll make ‘em happy?
That’s what they’ll say, anyway.
As for touching their marks, they’ll only let you when alone.
Even at low dominance, they’ll try to smack your hands away if you try to touch their marks when out public.
Wren
(89)
Small swirls on their left ankle. Easily mistaken for an actual tattoo instead of a soul mark.
Likely to kick off their shoes and press their foot against your mark under the table while playing blackjack as a way to distract you.
Gets flustered if you do it back to them, but tries to hide it behind wide smiles and low laughs.
Does sometimes daydream about having you laying under them, holding your foot, thumb brushing over your marks before dragging your leg over their shoulder and ducking down to give you head.
But, as your relationship is, it’s limited to playing footsie during card games.
BONUS
Cat Bailey
(83)
A bit better about touching marks but still isn't big on it.
Purrs every time you brush against their marks but don't ever mention that you noticed.
It's really when they go into heat/rut that things change. They're more likely to grab at your marks, to press you against their's.
Don't ever mention how sometimes you'll wake up to find Bailey resting with their cheek against the marks on your stomach, eyes closed, purr rumbling in their chest and tail flicking lazily.
Fuct Robin
(68)
Less into soul mark touching, really.
Sure, they still like it, but it makes them feel out of sorts, like they’re still the fresh 18 year old in a cramped orphanage room fumbling around with their partner they were when you first got your matching marks.
Though, they’re much more touchy with your marks. Likes sleeping with a hand pressed to the marks on your chest. Stops nightmares.
Yandere Avery
(89)
Hope you don't get cold easily because Avery isn't allowing you to wear anything that covers your marks when you're home.
Out and about, they make you cover up more, but any passerby can tell your marks match. What, you didn't think you were leaving the house without them, did you?
Touchs your marks all the time: right when they wake up, when they first get home after work, before falling asleep. All. The. Time.
Also more likely to touch your marks out in public, but only very rarely.
Eldritch PC
(71)
The soul marks have added tentacle motifs now, lol.
More intense for when your partner touches you.
Doesn’t mind the intensity:
Alex
Darryl
Doren
Eden
Great Hawk
Leighton
Robin
Pure Sydney
Cat Bailey
Yandere Avery
Less likely to touch because of the intensity:
Avery
Bailey
Briar
Black Wolf
Gwylan
Mason
Remy
Whitney
Fuct Robin
Likes the intensity:
Harper
Kylar
Corrupt Sydney
Whitney
Wren
Black Wolf
Great Hawk
Fuct Robin
Yandere Avery
#degrees of lewdity#alex the farmhand#avery the businessperson#bailey the caretaker#briar the brothel owner#black wolf the alpha#darryl the club owner#doren the english teacher#eden the hunter#great hawk the terror#gwylan the shopkeeper#harper the doctor#kylar the loner#leighton the headteacher#mason the swimming teacher#remy the farmer#robin the orphan#sydney the faithful#whitney the bully#wren the smuggler#cat bailey#fuct robin#eldritch pc#soulmates#soulmate au#soul mate au#soulmarks#soul mark#yandere kidnapper avery#yandere kidnaper avery
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Future Fic Poll
Okay, a little context:
I want to write a soul mate AU specifically where the Reader has the unique (and terrible) ability to touch people and know about their soul mate. A world-famous match maker, they eventually retire and attempt to disappear into the faceless crowds to just live a life alone for reasons. (they're a very grumpy/sour reader archetype.)
I have the world building done solid, and the story of the reader as well.
I cannot decide on who the love interest should be, and depending on who that is changes a LOT of story details.
So I cannot outline until I decide.
And as most of you are already aware, I am not good at deciding.
So it's poll time! \o/
Don't look for Marco, he won't be listed, I already have a LOT for him, do not doubt that. But do Read Everything Before Voting <3
It's a short time poll, so get your votes in - hells, tag your friends if you want people to help your blorbo win, it won't bother me.
#quin muses#quin poll#x reader#reader insert#soul mate AU#revolutionary sabo#sir crocodile#donquixote doflamingo#penguin one piece#kaku one piece#silver rayleigh
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Ya know that one Soulmate AU idea where it's all "You see the world in black and white then when you meet your soulmate you see it in color."
So imagine Amy is telling Tails about how she MOST definitely knows Sonic is her Soulmate because the moment she met him she started seeing the world in color, etc, etc. But let's slip that she didn't INSTANTLY see color when she met him, that took it a few minutes and Tails asked the EXACT moment she saw color and reveals it was right when Metal Sonic snatched her
It's Tails that points out, "It sounds like you didn't start seeing in color until you met Metal Sonic."
Amy just laughs at first but slowly has an "OH SHIT-" reaction
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same little breaks (in your soul) || chapter two
Daniel often wondered; if that was something he could do. In his darkest moments, in hotel rooms that all melted into one another, in his old bedroom in his bed, in driver's rooms after interviewers asked if he had found his soulmate yet - he used to take a sharpie, ink almost running out from all the autographs he had signed – and write “Hello” on it.
#maxiel#max verstappen#daniel ricciardo#f1#thank you so much for the support on this!!!!#my fic#soul mate au
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Famous Last Words
CisFem Reader x Trafalgar Law
CW: Violence, swearing, mature themes, erotic romance, angst, creative use of devil fruits, this story is still in progress, I will add content warnings as needed.
Summary: You're the only person who knows the face of an infamous murderer. The Marines have put you in witness protection while they track down the criminal, and you now exist as Arcadia Helen Mercia - a humble accountant with no ties to the North Blue.
** PLEASE NOTE ** - The reader has a Cover Name, and that is used at the beginning of the story, but you are still (Y/N), and you'll see (F/N) (L/N) and (Y/N) used later in the story. THIS IS NOT AN OC STORY - I needed a "false" name for the fact that you've been given a protective identity.
This is a Band AU & Soul Mate AU - some variables in the story were decided by poll votes on tumblr xD so buckle up.
Chapter 1: Fake Your Death
Your life had been turned upside down when you were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. Well, as far as the Marines were concerned, you were in the right place at the right time, because you were a key witness to a murder.
You had been lamenting the latest failed relationship of your short life, and had gone on a walk. In your depression you walked an incredible distance from your home, and it took hours for you to get back. By the time you had even gotten anywhere near home the sun had set.
You hadn’t considered a taxi because you didn’t really have any money on you in the first place. The buses were an option, but again, money, and more than that, you didn’t like buses. You were rarely a fan of people as a general rule, and people on buses could be… unique.
When you heard odd sounds coming from an alley you had every intention of not paying attention, but your senses were on edge the minute the sun had set. You heard everything. You heard names that were carved into your heart from the fear that accompanied them. You knew someone was going to be killed for their mistakes, and you were acutely aware that there wasn’t anything you could do to stop it.
After the sharp sounds of silenced shots sliced through the air you had stepped back against the build and tucked yourself into the darkest shadow you could find. It seemed to take the killer forever to come out of the alley, and it was everything you had to keep yourself silent. You willed your breath into nothing, and stilled your heart with a strength you didn’t know you had.
Desperation saved you. Fear froze you - searing every terrible detail into your mind, never to be forgotten.
You didn’t move until you were certain he was gone. You barely allowed yourself to breathe until you were fully convinced that there was no other living thing in the entire city but you. You wanted to bolt to your apartment, but something compelled you to stand at the edge of the alley, and call the Marines.
Minutes later there were a dozen lights, and twice as many people. A tall man with white hair and a gruff disposition had made contact with you first, before handing you off to a subordinate. Officer Tashigi was nice, and calm. She let you cry, and stare off into nothing for as long as you needed, never once rushing you as you gave your statement.
You spent the night at the station, and most of the day asleep in Officer Smoker’s office. Too tired to even try to get home, especially after a long night of paperwork and questions. You still didn’t have money on you, and that’s how you ended up sleeping on the small sofa in his office. Well, that and you were adamantly against leaving Smoker’s side for a few hours.
The marine seemed to understand what you were going through and provided you with a pillow and a blanket, and then woke you up with a cup of bad coffee and a donut.
Your lack of funds, and your trauma response, saved your life.
When Smoker drove you home, you noticed the window was broken in your apartment. He accompanied you inside and found your place had been tossed. Beyond tossed, it was like someone tried to just demolish the entire space. Black ink was smeared everywhere, and in a few places there was a symbol that meant nothing to you, but everything to Smoker.
He pulled you out of the apartment and drove you somewhere safe right then and there. You spent time moving from safe house to safe house; you traveled by boat, carriage, car and cart. You even got to ride on a dirigible, and you couldn’t imagine the cost of that trip. Your identity was changed, so was your appearance – at least superficially.
Hair was dyed, and you had to deal with contacts for a while to have different colored eyes. You had shoes with lifts inside of them, to make you taller, and your clothes were shifted out for a completely different style. It rankled you a bit, but those changes only persisted for a few months as you were bounced around.
Smoker realized that you were the only person that had seen the serial killer’s face, and lived to tell the tale. They needed you alive, and even more than that Smoker promised you would be safe. Keeping you safe meant making you disappear into the sea of people that existed while they tracked down the man you had seen.
Weeks turned to months, months turned into two years.
You had calmed down after the first year. You trusted your instincts, and you no longer nearly leapt out of your skin at every snap or scuffle. You had a job, and your own place. You knew you could be moved away in a blink, but you were settling into a comfortable routine. You’d even made friends with some of the people at work.
You were allowed to live, you just had to be careful. No reacting to your old name. No talking about your hometown. No mentions of anything about your old life. You had to exist as Arcadia Helena Mercia. You almost grumbled you hadn’t even gotten to pick the name, but technically, you hadn’t picked your birthname either.
The only thing making it all easier was that you hadn’t left anyone behind. Your parents had passed away when you were in college, and it was why you hadn’t completed your degree. Arcadia had, however, she had an Associates in mathematics – and sometimes you felt a little sour that one aptitude test by the Marines was enough to effectively earn you a degree.
But (Y/N) didn’t have a degree. It was just another layer to keep you awash in a sea of people. Officially, (Y/N) died in a tragic boating accident, her poor corpse lost at the bottom of the North Blue never to be recovered.
Arcadia existed – born and raised no less – in the West Blue. Went to a school on an academic island, and then attended college in the Grand Line. Afterward she found a job in the East Blue, and that’s where you were now. Three places you only knew briefly as you’d been moved around, and half of what you knew of them had to be provided to you in files.
The irony being that Arcadia was a damn sight better at having a life than (Y/N) had been. Your better job had removed a lot of stress from your life, and the lack of stress made it easier to interact with your coworkers. You made friends, and because you were keeping a low profile you weren’t trying to find any romantic partners anyway. Everything was almost relaxing.
Part of you wasn’t exactly thrilled about the idea of going back to your old life, but you couldn’t worry about tomorrow. It could take the Marines years to find the killer, and as long as you kept up your end of the bargain, you wouldn’t get jerked around all the seas. There was some irony to it all.
“Oi, Dia, are you even listening?” A demanding, but concerned, woman’s voice snapped you out of your waltz down memory lane and you turned toward the source.
“Sorry, Nami, I spaced out. What did you say?” You smile turning toward the orange-haired coworker of yours. Nami was in sales. You, little mathematician that you were, were in accounting. It wasn’t a terribly glorious job, but it was a job that kept your human interactions limited, and kept your refrigerator full of food.
“I got tickets to Your Synthetic Enchantment.” She explains, pulling a few tickets from her pocket. “Vivi, Zoro, Sanji, Luffy and I were going to go. I remember you enjoying their music, you want the last ticket?”
You did, but crowds weren’t really your vibe. “Yes… and no.” You admit with a sheepish smile.
“Look, with Zoro there I promise no one will bother us. He’s got like an aura of intimidation.” She says it with a teasing smile, but you also know she’s not wrong. Zoro scared you the first time you met him, but he’s a solid guy. In more ways than one – he was at least 80% muscle by volume.
“Is it going to be televised?” You question. You’d confided in Nami a little bit about yourself. You had played it off as a seriously persistent stalker ex, and Nami, Vivi and Robin had turned into protective sisters. They even did shopping for you from time to time so you didn’t develop any routines. You cried when they made the offer – it was nice to have people willing to go out on a limb for you, but also some of your tears were guilt.
You wished you could be completely honest, but it would be as bad for them as it would for you.
Shortly after that, Nami introduced you to Sanji, Zoro, Luffy and Franky. She called them the Line Backers. Luffy decided you were friend-shaped almost immediately, and Sanji seemed to be enamored with everyone he ever met. Zoro nearly made you wilt, but once you realized he just had a semi-permanent scowl as his default expression, it was easier to talk to him. Franky was the coolest of the bunch.
He had an old punk kind of vibe and towered over everyone. Franky owned a motorcycle shop, and did a lot of custom work and repairs, but the shop itself was like a fortress. Apparently, he’d outfitted it to be a kind of bunker, for no other reason than sheer boredom.
Nami shakes her head. “I checked three times to be sure.” She assures you. “None of the World Heart Infection tour dates are going to be televised. It’s supposed to be more intimate for the fans I guess?”
“World Heart Infection? Are they hoping to meet their soul mates or something?” You nearly snort.
Nami shrugs. “Maybe? Can you blame them?”
You smile and sigh. “Ah, how could I forget, the lovely Miss Nami has found her soulmate, after all.”
Nami beams. “I’m telling you. You just know.”
“So I’ve heard.” Your smile doesn’t falter. “But the statistics.”
Nami rolls her eyes. “You’re such a math nerd, I swear.”
You laugh. “That’s fair. But, no, I would love to go. I haven’t been to a concert in ages, and I do really like their music. It’d be a treat to see them live.” You admit, taking the offered ticket. “Are we meeting somewhere and going as a group?”
“Of course!” She replies. “I’m not going to drag you to a crowded place without making sure you’re properly protected. We’re meeting up at Franky’s shop a couple hours before the start of it. Sanji’s going to feed everyone, and then we’ll pile into a couple cars and head to the venue.”
“Nami.”
“Yes?”
“Nami, these are backstage passes!” You hiss the words, trying not to shout in surprise.
Nami’s usual cat-like smile turns even more cat-like than you’d ever seen it before. “Luffy’s friends with the lead singer.” She nearly squeals the words, keeping her voice as low as possible. Your eyes go wide.
“Are you kidding me?” You ask and Nami shakes her head.
She leans in closer after looking around. “His sister is Uta, remember?” She explains. “He traveled with her a few times during her earlier tours and knows a ton of big artists because of it. I guess someone was harassing the band and Luffy just laid them out – well, Luffy and Uta’s manager Shanks. I swear those two should’ve gotten into boxing or something, they would’ve made bank.”
“Wow.” You say it legitimately. “Luffy’s full of surprises.”
Nami smiles and nods. “Okay, it’s three weeks from now, let me know if something comes up.” She taps the ticket. “Vivi and I were going to get outfits for the concert next weekend, you want to come with us?”
You nod, not wanting to decline. The best person to go clothes shopping with was Nami – it was uncanny the deals she ended up getting. “That sounds good. I don’t know that I have anything to wear as it is.”
“Hey, are you okay?” Nami questions, putting a hand on your shoulder.
You give her a proper smile. “Yeah, it’s just… two years ago today.”
“Ah. Oh sweetie, I’m sorry.” She leans forward giving you a hug and patting your hair. “We can go out tonight and grab some drinks. I can text Vivi and Robin, I’m sure one of the line-backers will be available too.”
You laugh a little despite it all. “That’s not a bad idea. Ah, but F-Franky or Zoro. I don’t know that I have the energy for Sanji tonight.”
Nami pats the top of your head before stepping back. “If I have to resort to Sanji, I’ll keep him on his best behavior.”
#Famous Last Words#Trafalgar Law x reader#x reader#reader insert#trafalgar d water law#band AU#Soul Mate AU
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"Well, we may not be soul mates, but his presence makes me a little less sad and alone. And I think that's enough for both of us."
#mod poss#dialogue prompts#dialogue prompt#writerblr#original writing#writing inspiration#story prompt#creative writing#writing ideas#romance au#soul mate au#angst
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Chainshipping Prompt #1:
Adam gets released from the almighty bathroom after Lawrence shows John the soulmate mark on his wrist is glowing gold. John is a heartless bastard most of the time. He knows this, just like he knows that not even he would separate soulmates. That is a bridge too far. He still does have use for the both of them after all. Having both a doctor and a photographer/investigator in his back pocket will only aid him in his plans.
Soul Mate AU
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Me after reading your soulmate AU: you get a tattoo! You get a tattoo! You get a tattoo!
All the joys of having a tattoo without any of the pain! But also-
"So you see," Senator Burtoni says condescendingly, "the clones don't have soulmates."
Senator Organa nods solemnly, and then he pushes open a door revealing Jesse and his soulmate, with their matching face tattoos. "Explain this then?"
Senator Burtoni stares at them, "a coincidence."
Senator Organa nods again, "I have thousands of people across the galaxy who can and will swear up and down that their soulmate is a clone. In fact, I can account for a soulmate for every clone."
Senator Burtoni says nothing. Senator Organa smiles like a shark, "I think it's time we talk about rights for the clones."
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Red Son is a Tsundere down to his absolute bones in 99% of scenarios. The one time he isn’t? Soul Mate AU. Doesn’t even matter the exact kind of Soul Mate AU he is DOWN. The MOMENT he figures out who reader is he is all in. He’s buying flowers, jewelry, whatever it is you want you’re getting it. He’s heard all about the love story between his parents and he wants that. So who better to enact his own romance with then his Soul Mate? Someone who was MADE for him! Someone who he was MADE for!!
Don’t mistake his boldness and willingness for a lack of nervousness though. He’s both TERRIFIED of being rejected but also so certain of you because he HAS to be. If his own soulmate won’t accept him then who will? So he tries to show his absolute best at all times, in his own eyes he’s being the best boyfriend ever. However from an outsiders perspective? Very smothering. You’ll have to sit him down and explain that while you do have feelings for him and want to see this through you do need space for yourself. Y’all have all the time in the world now, you can take your time.
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Hi! If you don’t mind, I’d like to request some soulmate AU ideas?
I’m a sucker for the soulmate trope, but I’m having serious writer’s block, and I need help
Hey!! Okay, so for this one, let's take a look at all the soulmate tropes floating around right now -- maybe one of them will click with you!
Classic soul strings of fate! You're connected to your soulmate by a red string that you can follow. Many stories explore what happens when this string is cut or when there's no string at all.
You can only see in black and white until you meet your soulmate; then, you world turns to color.
On your 18th birthday, you swap languages with that of your soulmate. This is normally not an issue, but what if the language you start speaking is ancient?
After you enter a relationship with someone, there's a chance that in exactly a year, something clicks in your brain that tells you whether or not that person is your soulmate. What would happen if that happened with your new best friend?
Soulmates could be a part of the worldbuilding, but what if they're just randomly assigned and the whole system is a lie?
Hear me out: what if both you and your soulmate know you are one another's partner, but you decide you hate each other too much to go through with it and decide to actively sabotage the relationship instead?
A rumor says that your soulmate will know the same weird piece of obscure knowledge you do, and no one else in the world will have any idea what it is. Everyone tries to learn and share everything they can so they can meet their soulmate, but really, it's just a farce to get everyone to share facts and ideas.
What if you could tap into any one of your soulmate's five senses at any point? Sight, sound, touch, etc. Or...what if you could tap into their sixth sense? Maybe you can feel that someone's watching them? That they're in danger? What then?
Feeling your own emotional peaks can be hard, but what if you also felt your soulmates'? What if they're fairly neutral until one terrible day when it feels like your heart was ripped out of your chest?
At birth, you're born with two eye colors: one is your natural eyes, and the other is the eye of your soulmate. When you meet, your eyes return to their natural state.
Whenever your soulmate is physically hurt, a flower blooms from the same location. This is never a big problem aside from special cases, but what would happen if a thorny rose cracked through your chest from your heart?
They say you have two soulmates in your life: one romantic and one platonic. Well, what if you were given the names of your two soulmates, but it's never specified which is which? What if you get it wrong?
There's also always the classic "you wake up in your soulmate's body on a random day and you have to live their life for 24 hours oh nooooooooooo."
Soulmark AUs:
When you write on your skin, the image or word appears in the same place on the skin of your soulmate. What if words started floating near a location on your body, almost like your soulmate has some extra skin where you don't?
The first words you say to one another are tattooed on your skin far in advance. Or, maybe the first thing the other thought when they saw you?
What about the worst thing your soulmate ever said is tattooed on your skin? This would open the door to a lot of possibilities and honesty, especially if the worst thing they said didn't seem all that bad...that is, until you get the context.
Alternatively, what about a stain where your soulmate will touch you for the first time? What if you can't find yours, so you think you don't have one until you go in for an emergency surgery and your abdominal cavity has marks everywhere...pretty crazy.
On your 18th birthday, you wake up to your soulmate's initials on your wrist. What if your soulmate changed their name? Maybe they're in witness protection? How do you find them?
You're supposed to get a mark on your birthday to tell you where you'll find your soulmate -- instead, you wake up covered in marks, all of which say "nowhere."
#admin m#auideas relaunch#writing prompt#writing inspiration#writing inspo#writing idea#writing concept#fic inspo#story inspo#story idea#prompt#idea#au friday#soulmate au#otp au#made for eachother au#destiny au#fate au#soul mate au#one true pairing au#soul mark au#soulmark au
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In the soulmate au, did Zim keep Gaz's leather bracelet to wear it? Does he keep it under his glove?
Zim actually took it just to get measurements for her wrist. That’s why the immediate next scene is Gaz getting the bracelet HE made for her.
I like to think the original broken leather bracelet was burned. With spite. And malice. Just to prove how inferior it was to HIS bracelet, which, per Zim:
#invader zim#gaz#zim#ravenfollower13#zagr#iz#soul mate au#amyisherenowansweringyou#zim hates Gaz’s bracelets#and he only tolerates the ones he himself makes for her#fanfiction#ao3
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Different anon, but soulmate AU with names tattooed on the wrist would be amazing. Ahlf knowing the ‘Irus’ on their child’s wrist is the prince, the angst of it all…
I’d guess not much would be different with Elora or Sir Oren, like background knowledge-wise, but still. Sir Oren would be super wholesome.
What cruel fate 😢 I wasn't sure how to answer this, so I answered as a scenario 😊
Irus:
Ahlf forbade you from uncovering your wrist, but you do so now. Irus. His name is unfamiliar and yet, familiar at the same time. You followed the tug, the tether that led you to Irus without thinking.
Though, perhaps your father was right. You should never have uncovered your wrist for the Irus branded on your skin is none other than the son of King Erlan. The son of a man who nearly annihilated the Ishari.
You stumble back, hoping to flee back to your cottage where your father can lecture you about how foolish you were, but as you step back, his blue eyes find yours.
You cannot breathe, not when he looks at you like that and you know then. Your name must be branded on his wrist too.
Elora:
Who is Queen Elora? Her name, delicately tattooed to your wrist is what led you to research any who shared her name. Despite your initial search, you soon found yourself travelling in a carriage, heading to Vinia.
Ahlf told you that love made fools out of people, but you ignored him. The tug you felt to this woman, this person who you know is your soul mate, could not be ignored any longer.
When you arrive, you familiarise yourself with the city of Aspal. But it is during these moments of familiarisation that you find the name on your wrist, burning - nearly scorching. You follow the longing, the invisible thread to a young woman. She is laughing, but stops as she turns towards you, perhaps sensing your stare.
"You," she breathes. "I knew you'd come."
Oren:
Oren. Oren. Oren.
His name is repeated like a mantra, the same name that is etched into your skin. Ahlf scoffed when you showed him your tattoo and told you to forget it. After all, there was no such things as soul mates.
But you ignored your father. His words were not enough to sway you from your quest. So you set off, searching for this Oren, your soul mate.
You find him eventually, a Captain of the Royal Vinian Guard. Despite your travels, you had run out of money and found yourself stealing a loaf of bread from an unmanned cart. It is Oren who finds you, equal parts sympathetic and stern.
Still, the yearning you feel, coiling tightly around your gut, leads you to him. You reach out, gripping his wrist and feel a thrill of recognition. He stares at you, wide-eyed and breathless.
"It's you," he whispers. He grips your face, his hazel eyes softening. "It's truly you."
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Silver Bands
I finally finished Silver Bands. Read the final chapter on AO3.
Chapter Summary: Chloe and Beca’s first time. Soft smut ensues. Please note the rating change on the story.
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I made some art pieces to accompany the lovely Top Gun Maverick soul mate au by the wonderful @trinitorettomadrigal !!! Go check it out and show her some love! (Rooster isn't much of an artist, I'm afraid.)
#top gun maverick#my art#bradley bradshaw#hangster#jake seresin#rooster#sereshaw#trinitorettomadrigal#soul mate au
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Last line Tag
Thank you @late-to-the-fandom for the tag!
Tagging - @mariahwritesstuff, @author-a-holmes, @wildswrites, @moonandris, please consider it an open tag as well
Pulling from my Sparrington soulmate AU.
"We should-" James tipped his head back trying to force memories into activity but all he did was scramble his mind more when Jack's mouth moved to start sucking on his Adam's apple lightly.
#tag game#writing tag game#last line tag#Sparrington#Jack Sparrow/James Norrington#Pirates of the Caribbean#PotC#Jack Sparrow#James Norrington#Soul Mate AU#fanfiction#PotC Fanfiction#my writing#DuxWriting#Dux Writing#they're good friends#just some friends doing friends things#nothing to see here
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Famous Last Words
CisFem Reader x Trafalgar Law
CW: Violence, swearing, mature themes, erotic romance, angst, creative use of devil fruits, this story is still in progress, I will add content warnings as needed.
Chapter 5: Disenchanted
You watched the concert on the security cameras with Zoro. Rosinante left the room, leaving the two of you alone for long stretches.
“Soul mates, huh?” Zoro questions between songs at one point.
“Seems so.” You admit.
“… Was Nami right then?”
You laugh a little, taking a drink to think about your answer for a moment. “Yes. She was, but she kind of under sold it, I think.”
“Oh? Oh. Oh, wait, that’s why you needed to leave?”
You nod a little noncommittally. “It’s a powerful emotion.”
“Worried about the stalker?” He prompts, and you nod.
“Hard to keep a low profile, if your soul mate is the lead singer of Your Synthetic Enchantment.” You say a little roughly. “And… well, there’s more to it. I never talked about it.”
“Yeah.”
You tilt your head. “Yeah?”
Zoro goes over to the mini-fridge, grabbing a bottle of water as another song starts up. “Everyone knows you’re holding back, and it’s okay.” He adds quickly, putting a hand on the back of his neck and furrowing his brow a little. “I’m kind of crap with all the talkin’ stuff, but… I mean, everyone has things they don’t want to talk about.
“It doesn’t mean you don’t like us, or don’t trust us or whatever, so it doesn’t matter.” He admits, taking another drink. “But we know.” He motions toward you with his hand a little. “You get that worried look on your face, like you want to say more.”
“I do want to say more.” You admit, and it feels like a massive relief just to say that much.
Zoro grins. “That’s enough. Knowing that.” He assures you, turning back to the monitor and watching the feed.
After a few lines from the current song he turns to you. “Is this really a song about them being afraid of teenagers?”
You laugh, shaking your head. “No, it’s about authority being afraid of teenagers. I can see how you’d think that though.”
A few songs later the band share their thanks and love for the fans, pretending to pack up a little before they came out and did an encore song. The drums gave the song away before the first notes left the guitar and bass.
“Well, I know a thing about contrition, because I got enough to spare.” Law sang into the mic, but it was obvious his heart wasn’t in it at this point. He was ready to be done.
Near the end of the song Rosinante comes back into the room. “Alright, are you ready Miss?” He prompts. “Your friends went backstage before the encore, and the band should be getting there shortly. I doubt my boy’s going to say farewell properly, but he hardly does most nights anyway.”
You smile at Rosi. He was going to be your best friend in all of this, you were certain. Everyone already knew that Law’s parents, and younger sister, passed away some years ago. The tragedy of Flevance was one of the most well-known blunders of the World Government, and Law’s debut had been the action that had drawn attention to it.
His manager was different back then, and there’d been a huge hullabaloo as tons of information had come out about how Amber Lead Disease wasn’t a disease and wasn’t contagious. The real kicker to everything had been about how it wasn’t untreatable either, as Law was a survivor.
That was almost six years ago, and about a year after the story broke there was a big scuffle between Law and his first manager that shook up the tabloids for a little bit. After the dust settled on that, Rosinante became his manager. You’d seen pictures of him before, but seeing him in person had been an experience.
“I am, thank you Ro- er, Cora-san.” You say as you stand up and head out of the room. Jean’s in front, with you and Rosinante in the middle and Zoro at the rear. It felt like overkill to you, within the safety of the back halls, but you weren’t a bodyguard, and there wasn’t any reason to argue.
Besides, you were fully distracted.
Every step down the hall was a step closer. You could barely hear Rosinante talking as you walked, over the sound of your own heart. You could barely believe you were walking closer to him, and not further away.
The whole night had been surreal.
The further down the hall you walked, the more sounds you could hear. The muffled voices of people were echoing down the hall, just slightly louder than the distant muffled rush of the concert goers, still screaming on the high of the show as they delayed their inevitable departure. Some will have left before the encore to avoid the slow lines leaving the parking lot.
Some, like Franky and Robin, will be grilling food and commiserating with other fans idly in the lot, letting time pass by before they even consider leaving.
You turned the corner in time to see a door close down the hall, and it seemed to be your destination as Jean walked straight toward it. People in uniforms were further down the hall, using boards and arms, to block access and viewing down the hall as they kept any unauthorized people away.
You could hear Nami’s voice as the door opened.
“You really found your soul mate? That’s fantastic Traffy!” She beams and you can hear Luffy laugh.
“You should’ve told us ahead of time!” He’s almost pouting, you can hear it in his voice.
“Sorry, Mugiwara-ya, I didn’t want word to get out be… fore.” Law’s words die on his lips as he turns toward the door. His eyes go wide as he sees you, and a smile pulls at your lips as you look back at him.
You’re not really sure what to say with those golden eyes locked on yours. You almost want to look away, but you don’t. You can’t. A part of you is nearly afraid to blink, as though the action itself would pull you from the dream you must be having right now.
You’re barely aware of everyone else. You’re certain you heard Nami and Vivi gasp, but the room had fallen into a hush.
“… Are they gonna stay like that?” Someone asks, and there’s a smack followed by a grumble. You can hear it all, and you know everyone else is there, it just doesn’t matter.
“Cora-san, is there another room?” Vivi asks, and you’re vaguely aware of people shuffling around. Law steps back from the doorway, and you follow him, just a couple of steps. Enough space for everyone to leave.
The soft click of the door barely seemed enough of a signal, but once the door locked, he lifted his hands up. Holding them up by his waist and giving you a shy smile as you reached out and put your fingers against the palms of his hands.
The touch was almost like electricity, enough to pull your gaze away from his eyes, but the brief zing of pleasure gave way to warmth. A nervous laugh pushes past your lips at the relief of being able to touch his hands. He threads his fingers through yours, holding onto your hands and nearly sighing.
“(Y/N).” He says it softly, barely a whisper, as though he’s almost afraid to say it too loud, but he’s too desperate to not say it at all.
Emotions well up inside of you, and his fingers slip away from yours in a moment of panic as tears fill your eyes. You hadn’t heard your own name in years, and the first person to say it to you was your soul mate.
A muffled thank you falls from your lips as you bury your face in his chest, hugging him close. One warm hand is atop your head after a moment, the other around your back, returning the embrace.
“I can’t believe,” you manage, sniffling and almost laughing at the same time. “You dreamed about me.”
Law’s hands flex. “You dreamed about me.” He insists. “… I couldn’t reach you.”
“You could hear me.”
“Yeah.”
“Law.” You say his name once your voice clears a little, wiping your eyes before you step back slightly. His hands don’t quite let you go, one still at your waist, the other on your shoulder. You leaned into the hand against your face, hand holding his against your cheek. “Trafalgar Law.”
His fingers flex against your face. “Traffy.” He says, but the word is already distasteful to him, you can tell. “Call me… Traffy.”
You look up at him quizzically. “Why?”
“I can’t say your name, when we leave here, right?” His brows are knit, he looks irritated. “I have to call you… that name, until they find that guy.”
You nod. “Anywhere that someone could hear, yes.” You admit.
He pulls you closer, gently, as though he wants you to be able to pull away if you want. His eyes aren’t irritated anymore, but they’re on you, looking from your eyes to your lips.
“It’s only fair then,” He says, his voice almost a whisper. “There’s so much I want to tell you.”
“It seems like you want to kiss me,” you murmur softly, eyes moving up from his lips to his eyes as you smile. “More than you want to talk.”
The flicker of light in his eyes, the crooked grin that slips along his lips for a moment, are enough to send a sweet shiver up your back. “Seems so.” He answers quietly, pulling you a little closer.
There’s a soft breath between you both, one last glance at one another that can’t last as long as you wish it could, and the first tentative brush of your lips against his sends little shivers through you both. You feel him suck in a breath along with you, and then the small space between you both disappears as you nearly crash your lips into his.
The rush through your chest pulls your lips apart, leaving you desperate for air as your heart’s pulling in every scrap it can find against the flood of oxytocin in your system. Law’s hands hook your thighs as he lifts you up, bracing you against his chest as you lean down from your new vantage and kiss him again, legs wrapping around his waist.
Moans bubble up in his chest, shuddering against you as soft sounds fall from your lips in return. Heavy breaths and desperate kisses are all you know for a moment before he sits down on his knees. His hands shift, and he leans you back, resting your back against the floor as he cradles the back of your head in his hand.
His arm is beside you as your hands disappear into his hair. It’s damp from the concert still, but you don’t care. The scent of makeup cleaner still hasn’t reached you, and the heavy scent of exertion isn’t your concern as hot breath crashes over you before he kisses you again. His knees are pressing into your thighs, and your body is hot with need and desire, your hips shift, sliding your thighs up his legs as another kiss threatens to steal sense and breath from you.
Your fingers are fumbling with the buttons on his shirt when there’s a knock at the door. You both freeze, and after a second you hear Nami’s voice.
“Just making sure you’re having your first time together where, and when, you really want to.” She says with a knowing lilt to her voice. “We’re heading to the General, Dia, text me if you’re going home a different way.”
You can feel the heat rushing up to your face, and you can see that Law’s face is flushed.
“Thanks, Nami.” You reply as evenly as you can manage, and hear her walk away. You look around and start to realize you’re on the floor of a backstage room. Not that it would’ve been something you would’ve regretted, but maybe dinner and a soft bed was a slightly better prelude if you could choose it.
Law puts his head down on your chest for a second, seeming to gather himself.
“That -.” He starts, and you start to laugh – a little from nerves, but also because it was more of a rush than you had expected.
“They really undersell the whole ‘you’ll know’, bit, don’t they?” You ask, and he starts to laugh softly. His laugh fuels yours and yours his, and he sits up, resting on his heels as he finally just lets himself laugh completely.
You could listen to that sound for years.
The two of you are nearly in tears by the time you get yourselves under control.
“Yeah,” he admits, chuckling again as he stands up and offers you a hand up. “Intoxicating seems like a cop out.”
You’re certain your face is a beacon of red as you stand up. “Yeah… little bit.”
There’s a moment of almost awkward silence between you. You’re not sure what to say, but you know that you don’t want to leave. Long, tattooed fingers, reach out and curl around your hand, and Law runs the bottom of his lip along his teeth, trying to think of something to say.
“I… have a submarine.” He offers. “I mean, just… you don’t have to go… home. Um, you could stay.”
“… I want to stay.” You admit quietly.
“For tonight. Tomorrow.” He corrects, bringing your fingers up to his mouth and kissing your knuckles softly. “We don’t leave for the next island for a few days. We have some time.”
“Time to talk?” You prompt.
He smirks. “Among other things, but yes.”
“We have a lot to talk about.” You insist.
Law looks over at the wall, glancing at the clock. “There’s 104 hours between now and when we have to set sail.” He begins with a devious grin. “Assuming proper rest, that 64 hours awake.” He pulls you close and nearly purrs the next words into your ear.
“I’m sure we can spare a few hours in there for words, at some point.”
You start to say something when the air shifts around you. You aren’t sure what it is exactly, just a sense that there’s something in the air that wasn’t there before.
“Shambles.” Law says, and your whole world shifts.
#Famous Last Words#Trafalgar Law x reader#x reader#reader insert#trafalgar d water law#band AU#Soul Mate AU
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