#Soulmate AU: Colors -Red | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

paperultra · 6 months

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candy stripes.

Pairing: OPLA!Vinsmoke Sanji x Fem!Reader Word Count: 5,048 words Warnings: Swearing, hospital setting [A/n: Soulmate AU. :)]

sortiger (adjective): delivering prophecies of the future; having the qualities of being oracular

Nobody else can see the string but you.

You wish you didn’t. It has no texture, no weight, so you can’t understand why it can’t be invisible too. But the string demands attention with every use of your hands, seizes your eye when you wash dishes in the morning and brush your teeth at night, a garish and bloody red that matches the stripes of your uniform.

You hate your string and you hate the color red.

Miss Xinyu, the old lady in Room 30, has one too. At least, that’s what she had told you when you gained the courage to mention yours one day, not knowing what it meant and how much you would come to dread it.

“It’s your red string of fate,” she had explained. “It connects you to the person who understands you more than anyone else in the world.”

In other words, your soulmate. Your one and only.

Miss Xinyu says you’re a lucky ducky, knowing what your future holds.

Her string goes into the ground now. You don’t think being reminded of a dead person whenever you look at your pinkie is very lucky.

The biggest reason why you hate the string so much, though, is because you’ve always had a problem doing what you’re supposed to unless you want to, which causes a lot of trouble for a nine-year-old girl. You already have trouble being nice to patients who are mean to you, so how can you love and wait for someone you’ve never met? It makes you feel icky.

Why can’t you choose? How come you have to have one at all?

Your only source of comfort is that your string is very, very thin and runs out of the hospital. That means your soulmate, whoever they are, is very, very far away. You’d very much like it to stay that way.

But it doesn’t.

—

Nurse Taoh wants you to watch the patients in Room 8 while he finishes his charts. You don’t really want to, if only because it’s Nurse Taoh asking – he likes to order you around more than Dr. Gu – but you don’t want to get into trouble again, so you go.

(… And okay, you are just a little bit curious about the new inpatients. You only know three things about them: one, they were brought in together last night while you were in your room poking holes into your paper instead of correcting it; two, they’re a man and a boy, presumably father and son; and three, everyone says it’s a miracle they’re still alive.)

(Then again, you’ve seen many miracles here.)

The unit is quiet as you walk down the hallway. Quiet, but not silent, as your polished shoes squeak like little mice against the floor and you whisper the room numbers as you pass by them. Two, four, six – eight.

You stop and knock, three sharp raps against the brown wood.

“Hello?” You open the door and poke your head in. “My name is –”

The squiggly-patterned curtain that often separates patients for privacy is drawn, and you clamp your mouth shut as you realize the patient closest to you is asleep.

Shutting the door silently, you creep closer to the foot of his bed. The man underneath the sheets lies quietly; he is little more than a skeleton, eyes sunken and bones sticking out underneath blistered skin. His beard is long and scraggly, but it pales in comparison to his mustache, each side braided and sticking out to the sides.

He looks angry, even though he’s sleeping. You hope he’s not the type to wake up and yell at you as you tiptoe past to check on the boy.

You pass the curtain, catch a glimpse of the bed sheets, and see –

Red.

Your feet root themselves in place, the room suddenly devoid of air.

You stare. Blink hard, twice. Look again. Then, trembling, you look down at your hand.

Your eyes trace the string around your own finger, following down to the dip of it that barely touches the ground and back up over the blankets until it ends in a red loop around the boy’s pinkie, tied off with a little bow.

Your stomach turns.

Stumbling forward, you make your way to the visitor’s chair in the corner. You slump down into it and stare straight ahead at the curtain, refusing to look at the boy’s face.

He continues to sleep.

You don’t want him to wake up.

—

The boy does not stir during your first meeting, but that small mercy is quickly eclipsed two days later by a single bowl of chicken broth.

The look on your face is sour as you walk down the hallway again, the broth splashing up against the lid with each step. Because most of the patients in the hospital you live in are elderly, the staff have somehow gotten it into their heads that you simply must spend time with the boy in Room 8 because he is your age and you need to socialize with other kids. You very much don’t want to. Not with him, at least.

Dr. Gu is just leaving the room when you arrive. She gives you a quick smile, the corners of her eyes wrinkling, and pats your head.

“So you heard that the boy woke up, huh?”

You grunt, looking away with a pout. “Can’t you give this to him, Dr. Gu?”

“Nope. I have to finish my rounds,” she says. “Go in and have a chat. His name is Sanji. You’ll like him.”

“I doubt it,” you mumble underneath your breath.

Dr. Gu probably hears you, but she doesn’t scold you, merely patting your head one last time before you enter Room 8.

The dividing curtain is drawn this time. The window curtains are pulled back, too; it’s a somewhat cloudy day outside, but bright enough to sharpen the shadows on the walls and make the boy look even paler than you remember.

His eyes are closed as you approach. A sprout of hope that he might have fallen asleep again blooms in your chest – you’ll just leave the broth on the table, you think to yourself, and go about the rest of your day. Nobody said you had to watch him drink it.

You get about five feet away, already planning to drop some books off to the other rooms, when the boy’s nose suddenly twitches.

His eyes open to thin slits. Your hope shrivels like a weed in the desert as he speaks.

“What’s that?” His voice is quiet and raspy.

Your eyebrow twitches. “It’s just chicken broth,” you say tartly, setting the tray down on the overbed table and turning it around so that it’s over his lap. You take off the lid and steam bursts from the bowl.

The boy reaches up to rub his eyes. The red string dangles from his pinkie, and you quickly look away with a scowl.

“Who are you?” he asks, scooting back to sit up more as he gradually becomes more alert.

Reluctantly, you give him your name. “Will you need help with the soup?”

He shakes his head. His gaze latches onto the contents of his bowl, and he stops, transfixed.

You scramble to stop him as he suddenly grabs the bowl and attempts to gulp it all down in one go.

“Don’t do that! You’ll throw up!” Without thinking, you seize his hands and pry the bowl away from his mouth. A few drops of broth splash over the blankets and his gown, and your irritation grows. Now you’ll have to fix that. “Drink it slowly.”

“I haven’t eaten anything for weeks,” the boy complains. “What do you know?”

“I’ve been studying medicine since I was a little kid,” you retort. “So I know a lot.”

He frowns. “You are a little kid.”

“I’m nine years old!”

“No, I’m nine! You don’t look as old as me!”

There’s no way this … this brat is the same age as you! Fuming, you let go of the bowl and jab a finger at his face. “I am nine years old and I know more than you! You can’t drink the broth like that!”

You’re met with silence. The boy’s eyes are wider than saucers. Pride wells up inside you at your ability to shut him up.

But then he puts the bowl down and seizes your hand, and your pride gives way to horror as he folds down your index finger and lifts your pinkie – the pinkie with the red string wrapped around it.

He lifts his own pinkie, the rest of his fingers folded. Your jaw clenches when you see how the string has shortened to mere inches, bridging the space between his hand and yours.

“Holy shit,” the boy says. The largest grin spreads across his face, and it’s blinding and scary and you hate it, you hate it. “It’s you! You’re my soulmate, aren’t you?!”

“No,” you reply quickly, whipping your hand behind your back and backing away. “No, I’m not!”

“But you see the string too! I knew I’d meet you some day. How come you’re”— he pushes the table away, eagerly but just gentle enough so no more of the broth spills—“how come you’re hiding it behind your back?”

“I’m not your soulmate,” you bark, panic rising in your chest. “Don’t you ever say that!”

You only catch a glimpse of the hurt that flashes across the boy’s face before you turn around and dash out of the room.

Mrs. Hong finds you in the storage closet later, curled up behind the shelves of gauze and IV tubing. She coaxes you out with a promise of rice balls and no questions asked. You wish all the adults were more like her.

—

The next day, Miss Jaylee hoists you over her shoulder like a human sacrifice and brings you to Room 8.

“I don’t want to see him! You can’t make me!”

“He’s refusing treatment and food unless he sees you,” the woman answers briskly, each of her steps jostling you up and down. “You don’t want to be responsible if Sanji dies, do you?”

“I don’t care if he dies!”

Miss Jaylee clicks her tongue and walks faster.

You flail, feeling a little guilty for your cruel words but too proud to take them back. Sanji couldn’t have heard you, anyway, and nobody here is going to let him die no matter what he does or what you say.

You hear a door swing open. Miss Jaylee walks into Room 8 and turns around, and you lift your head, glaring at Sanji as his face lights up and his cheeks turn rosy.

“[Y/n]!”

Your own cheeks burn in embarrassment at the position you’re currently in. This, you only now realize, is way worse than walking into the room voluntarily.

“How come they’re carrying you? Are you okay?” he asks.

“Let them treat you,” you snap, arms limp and dangling. “And eat your stupid food or I’ll get in trouble.”

“Okay.” You nod, opening your mouth to speak again only for him to continue, “But only if I get to talk to you afterwards.”

What is he, a prince?! What makes it so easy for him to demand such things?

“That wasn’t what you told them,” you protest, squirming, but Miss Jaylee only tightens her arm around your waist.

(“Be nice,” she warns. You growl.)

“It’s important,” Sanji stresses, looking pointedly down at his hand and then back at you.

You bite down on your tongue as the red string glimmers in the light.

Dr. Gu and Nurse Taoh stare at you expectantly. Your neck is starting to ache from craning it, and there’s a feeling that you’ll never stand on your own two feet again unless you do what he wants.

“… Fine,” you hiss through gritted teeth.

Only once you promise to stay does Miss Jaylee let you slide off her shoulder. You stand to the side, arms crossed impatiently as they take Sanji’s vitals and ask him some questions. He’s only half paying attention, head turning to look at you more than once, which you merely turn up your nose at.

“All right, we’ll leave you two to chat now,” Dr. Gu says. “If you need anything, just let [Y/n] know, okay?”

“Okay,” Sanji says.

With that, the three adults leave, and you and Sanji are left alone once more.

“I’m glad you came. They were starting to get mad at me,” he says, then cuts straight to the chase. “How come you don’t want to be my soulmate?”

“Because I don’t want a soulmate,” you immediately reply.

“But why? It’s nice, isn’t it? Being special to each other?”

“You can’t be special to me. We’re not even friends.”

For the second time, Sanji looks hurt.

“…We’re not?” he asks. You shake your head. “But … you brought me food.”

You’re befuddled. “Because Dr. Gu made me,” you say, trying to ignore the disappointment on his face. “Besides, I yelled at you yesterday. Friends don’t yell at each other.”

“I thought that you were maybe just really surprised …” His voice gets smaller and smaller. “Some people get mad when they’re just surprised …”

“I wasn’t surprised. I saw it when you were still asleep.”

“Oh,” Sanji mumbles. He looks down at the sheets, scratching at the wrinkle in the thin white fabric. “Okay.”

He says nothing more. You fidget, wondering if he’s pretending to look like he’s about to cry or if he really is trying not to. You’re not good with people who start crying.

You chew on your bottom lip. Sanji tucks his hand with the string on it underneath his bed sheets, his eyes disappearing behind his tangled hair, and fine, you feel kind of bad whether he’s tricking you or not.

“I’ll only be friends with you if you don’t talk about being soulmates,” you finally tell him begrudgingly. “Not ever, okay?”

His head shoots back up. “Really?!”

“Only if you don’t talk about it! I’m serious.” You huff at Sanji’s sudden change in mood and click your tongue. “If you stay sad you might not get better. Don’t get the wrong idea!”

He nods, grinning bigger than ever.

Oh, dear, you think as he promises that he’ll be a really, really good friend, you might have made a mistake.

—

By the fifth day, Zeff, the man who was brought in with Sanji, is awake.

You hear them arguing before you see them, pushing a cart of books for Sanji to browse through as per your agreement the day before. They’re loud, and Sanji calls the man an old shitbag right as you knock and push the door open.

“I’m here,” you announce, and the two quiet down to look at you. You give Zeff a polite smile. “Hello, sir. I’m [Y/n].”

“Hello, little miss,” Zeff says, his features softening from the angry expression he’d directed towards Sanji a moment before.

“Why are you being nice to her and not me?” Sanji pipes up from his side of the room, all puffed-out cheeks and petulantly crossed arms.

“Because she don’t make my ears ring with nonstop whining,” the man answers sharply. “Now get a book and read so I can finally have some peace and quiet.”

“You get a book and read,” Sanji grumbles.

“What was that, boy?”

You cut in before they start bickering all over again. “Do you want a book too, Mr. Zeff?”

Zeff’s gaze flicks over to you once more, and your shoulders tense. The man takes a deep, calming breath, and then he sighs, reclining back into his pillow and closing his eyes. “No, thank you, little miss,” he mutters. “Reading’s no good for my head right now.”

“Do you have a headache?” He grunts in affirmation. “Do you want me to get a nurse?”

“No, no, don’t need any of that.”

“You didn’t tell me you had a headache,” Sanji accuses.

Zeff’s mustache twitches. “All you need to know is that you oughta stop yappin’ when a man wants peace and quiet!”

(Not again.)

As you give up and walk over to draw the curtains, Sanji says your name desperately. “Can we read somewhere else?” he pleads when you glance at him. “I don’t want to be stuck in here with him right now.”

Narrowing your eyes, you appraise his weak-looking frame, pointedly skimming past the red string that snakes over to you. “Can you even walk around yet?”

“Yeah,” he says defensively. He wriggles out of the bed sheets and swings his legs over the side of the bed. Holding onto the side rail, he stands up and grips the IV pole for support. Though he’s a little shaky, he shuffles a few steps towards you and smiles when he manages to do so. “See?”

Well, you think, if you and Sanji stay here, you’ll need to have some light in order to read. But it will probably help Zeff if the room is as dark as possible, so if you guys go somewhere else, Sanji’s lamp won’t need to be on.

“Okay,” you agree. “Wait here. I’ll get some slippers.”

Ten minutes later, with Sanji shuffling along in his slippers, IV pole in one hand and your arm in the other, the two of you arrive at the common room and find chairs in the corner to sit down in.

“These’re mostly history books and stories for old people,” you explain as you pull out the one cooking-related book you could find from the top basket of the cart. “This was the only food one I could find.”

“That’s okay.” Sanji takes the book from you and begins to flip through it. “Oh, this one’s about seafood in the South Blue! Have you ever had any?”

“No.”

“Me, neither. I’ll try it someday, though … hey, this fish looks like a fried egg!”

Against your will, you perk up. “… Really?”

For the next half-hour, Sanji fawns over the spices used on grilled Sea King meat and how to cook wine clams and the best fish for South Blue-style sushi. And it’s … not boring. He doesn’t hog the book, and the pictures are cool, and he asks you which ones you think are the coolest or would taste the best. Looking at a book with another kid is different from reading with an adult. It feels like you’re sharing, not like you’re being tested on your comprehension or how to pronounce long words.

Hanging out with Sanji is okay when the string doesn’t sour it.

“So you want to cook all of these one day?” you ask after scanning through a full-color page of steamed Ocean Hawk feet.

“I want to cook things from all four seas,” Sanji says. His legs bounce with excitement. “That’s why I’m gonna find the All Blue.”

“What’s that?”

The boy glows.

“It’s where the North, East, South, and West Blue seas all meet. Think about it – fresh-caught fish from all over the world all in one place! I’ll be able to cook dishes no one’s ever cooked or tasted before.”

You’ve never heard of such a place. But Sanji talks about it with such conviction, such resolve, that you figure the All Blue could really exist.

“I hope you find it,” you say, and you mean it.

“I will.” Sanji closes the book. “And when I do, I’ll cook something just for you. A-As a friend.”

He peeks over at you, his eyes even brighter and bluer than before, his cheeks flushing a familiar red. And you find yourself believing him, just a little bit.

—

Sanji keeps his promise.

You know he still likes you (blech) and so does most of the staff (double blech). Nurse Taoh thinks it’s funny and teases you about your little boyfriend in Room 8 who always asks where you are. Mrs. Hong reminds you to be sensitive whenever you stop by to pick up meals. Dr. Gu tells you to tell her right away if Sanji ever does something that makes you uncomfortable.

But he never does. Sometimes his words spill out clumsily like a broken faucet and other times he blushes and stutters, leaving you to wonder what he’s going on about, but he doesn’t try to kiss you or hold your hand, and he doesn’t say a word about the red string that is very much still there. If anything, he just annoys you at times, with how nice he is to you and how sunny he gets when you eat lunch with him sometimes.

You’ve never seen somebody so happy to be in a hospital before, even if it’s just because he wants you to like him. It’s weird.

It’s on the eighth day of Zeff and Sanji’s stay that you learn not everything is how it seems.

You’d gotten in trouble the night before for digging holes in the garden – you had kept the seed from your dinner plum and wanted to see if you could make it grow, but Miss Jaylee had caught you while taking Mr. Hu out for some air – so you’re somewhat grumpy on your way to Room 8, two notebooks in hand.

One of them is blank for Sanji. He wants to record all the meals he’s gotten and write down how he would make them. The second notebook is full of your notes that you need to study for your quiz tomorrow.

Zeff is sleeping again when you enter. You move quietly across the room to where Sanji is lying with his back to the door.

“Sanji.” You can see his shoulders tense underneath the sheets, but strangely, he does not roll over to face you. “I have your notebook.”

No answer. That is even stranger.

Frowning, you walk around to the other side of the bed. Sanji moves to bury his face into his pillow, but not before you hear a very soft, wet sniffle.

“Sanji?”

“Sorry.” His voice is high and so muffled you can barely understand him. “You can just leave it on the table.”

“Why are you crying?” In the back of your head, you know it is not the most sensitive thing to ask. But for some reason, you need to know. “I won’t laugh or tell anyone.”

You hear another sniffle from the mop of blond hair. It takes a long time for Sanji to answer, but he eventually does.

“I don’t like hospitals.”

Your brow furrows. “Oh,” you say, somewhat surprised. Most people don’t like being in a hospital, you’re pretty sure of that, but you didn’t know Sanji didn’t like it this much. “Why?”

Maybe he’s tired of getting poked all the time, or the bland food, or the hospital smell. Nobody here can change that. Maybe he’s homesick. The hospital can’t fix that, either.

Sanji turns his head slightly and takes in a small, shuddering breath. “’Cause it … it makes me remember my mum … when she was sick,” he mumbles, almost too quiet to hear.

“… Oh.”

You had assumed, upon learning that Zeff and Sanji were not at all related, that Sanji was like you and never knew his parents. He’d never talked about having any before, only his time on the Orbit and with Zeff. But he does know them – his mother, at least. And she was sick. The memory is what’s making him so sad, and it’s yet another thing that the hospital can’t help.

You don’t want him to be sad. You did make him your friend, after all, even if he does annoy you sometimes.

“I’m sorry,” you say, standing awkwardly with his notebook still in your possession. You remember what Miss Jaylee has told other patients before. “That, um, must have been really hard for you.”

Sanji squeezes his pillow more tightly.

Should you go? Should you talk to him some more?

“Please don’t tell anybody,” he whispers before you can decide. “Especially Zeff.”

“I won’t,” you reply firmly. “I said I wouldn’t, didn’t I?”

“I’m sorry I can’t hang out today. I really wanted to, but, um …”

“It’s okay. We can do it later.”

“Okay.”

You set his notebook and a pen on the bedside table. After some thought, you refill his water and, after even more hesitation, fix the bed sheets on him a bit so they’re not as twisted up. That is the best you can do.

The red string follows you as you quietly leave Room 8, and you don’t think about it at all.

—

“How do you spell necessary?”

“N-E-S-E-S-A-R-Y.”

“That doesn’t look right. I think it’s S-S-A-R-Y.”

“Maybe you can find it in the book,” Sanji suggests, kicking his feet as he lies on his belly next to you.

“Yeah, maybe.” You flip through the pages of your textbook, searching for the correct spelling lest you get marked off again.

It is the tenth day. Sanji is doing alright, and Zeff is up and about with his new leg. Dr. Gu says they’re good to go, so they’re leaving after Zeff finishes breakfast. You’re not sure how to feel about it.

In the meantime, Sanji is helping you with your essay about scurvy. He knows quite a bit about it, which makes sense since he’s lived at sea, and you hope the perspective he’s supplying will impress Dr. Gu.

(“That’s why every ship needs a good cook,” he tells you proudly. “We make sure everyone eats right so they stay healthy.”

“That’s why you and Mr. Zeff are going to have a restaurant ship, right?”

“Mmhm.”)

Sanji rests his face in his hands, cheeks squished against his palms while you continue to scan through your textbook. You finally find the word in a photo caption and, with a triumphant noise, jot it down correctly.

Someone knocks on your door. The two of you turn to face it simultaneously.

“[Y/n]?” It’s Mrs. Guo.

“Yeah?” you call, already slightly irritated.

“Is Sanji there? It’s time for him to leave.”

A frown presses down on your lips. Sanji sighs and gets up as slowly as possible, taking his notebook with him.

“Coming,” he says.

The two of you dawdle on your way to the hospital entrance. You pet Cabby the dog when you run into him and his handler and stop by the kitchen so Sanji can thank the cooks. There’s no rush, not really, but an uneasy feeling continues to well up in your stomach anyway.

Upon arriving at your destination, Zeff waiting at the double doors with a giant bag of treasure slung over his shoulder, Sanji stops and turns to face you.

“I’m – I’m going now,” he says, as if just realizing it.

“Okay,” you say.

You and Sanji stand in silence for a moment before Sanji’s bottom lip starts to wobble.

Yours starts to wobble too. The uneasy feeling in your stomach bubbles up into your throat and behind your eyes.

“I’ll write you,” he blurts, voice cracking. “You’ll come visit, won’t you?”

“I don’t know.” You don’t know if they’ll let you. The hospital is busy and the ocean is big, bigger than you, and you don’t know it at all like Zeff and Sanji do. “But I’ll write back.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

You are crying now.

For the first time, your arms wrap around Sanji, and he clings back as both of you bawl. Your tears and snot stain the shoulder of his brand-new clothes. Your uniform grows damp at the collar. It doesn’t matter at all.

“I don’t know if I’ll see you again,” you croak into his shirt, face hot and eyes blurry.

His grip tightens. “You will,” Sanji replies in between sniffles. “I know it. Even if it’s when we’re really old, we’ll see each other again.”

“Okay.”

You believe him. Not because of fate, but because you want to.

—

You write to each other every single week for the next ten years. You tell each other everything.

Well, almost everything.

—

“You seem nervous,” Nami says. “Don’t tell me a little bribery got under your skin?”

“No, no.” You wipe your hands on your thighs and try to relax against the back of the booth. “Just … not used to places like this, that’s all.”

The Baratie is nicer than you imagined. Sanji had kept you up to date over the years, sending newspaper clippings and recipe drafts as the restaurant he and Zeff founded grew in staff members and reputation, but seeing it in person is a whole different deal. You’re telling the truth when you said you’re not used to a place like this.

But it’s not why you’re nervous.

“Hey, look!” Usopp exclaims, pointing across the room. “I think those guys are gonna fight.”

The rest of you look. Near the kitchen, two men are arguing, and the pink-haired man sitting at the table stands up when the pirate shoves his food onto the floor.

Usopp sucks his teeth. “Yikes.”

Luffy leans forward in interest. Zoro simply stares, and Nami rolls her eyes.

One of the waiters approaches them. You watch as he tries to deescalate the situation, but neither party is having it.

The pink-haired man draws a gun.

Within seconds, the gun and both would-be brawlers are on the floor.

The waiter shoves his foot into the pink-haired man’s back to keep him down, then picks up the plate of bread rolls again, stepping over both groaning bodies with the ease of one who’s done it before.

He reassures the other customers as he approaches your booth. You’re not concerned about the fight so much as you are about the way that you know.

It’s been ten years, but you just know, even before he gets close enough for you to see the red string that trails up and disappears into the black of his pants pocket. Even before you see the blue of his eyes and the annoyed set of his brow, exactly the same as you remember.

He places the rolls down onto the table, and for the first time, you wonder what you want.

“Hi, welcome to our shitty restaurant where the only thing worse than the ambience is the food. My name is Sanji. What can I get for you?”

#aesthetic words prompt list #opla #one piece #sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji #sanji #opla sanji #one piece live action #opla fanfiction #one piece fanfiction #reader insert #fem!reader #soulmate au #woefully inaccurate portrayal of patient treatment and progression of recovery i'm sorry #usually i'd be more of a stickler but this is one piece where people don't die after 85 days eating nothing but their own leg #zeff and sanji definitely aren't ur typical patients anyway even in the opla universe lol

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dottores · 1 year

Text

HELIOTROPES

pairing: dottore x fem!reader & segments

summary: the gods were sick and twisted. for five hundred years, he believed he was fated to be alone. he had long accepted it—embraced it, even. that is, until a midwinter night when that elusive red thread finally appeared on his finger. but as much as he wants to ignore it, the pull of a soulmate simply cannot be ignored.

genre: soulmate au, canon compliant for the most part, forbidden love, slow burn.

warnings: fem!reader, age gap, lots of worldbuilding for snezhnaya & the fatui & fontaine, dottore is his own warning, angst and romance, none others that i can think of off the top of my head. each chapter will have its own warnings, it is self-ship coded, and i will take liberty with dottore’s known lore.

status: incomplete. updates sporadic, at least monthly.

taglist: 50/50 (CLOSED. if you would like to be on it, still comment here—i’m going to periodically go through and remove people who don’t interact, and then i’ll add you)

notes: sigh i wanted to give my beluved a little series. this is something i’ll be working on in my free time for fun, so updates will be sporadic, i was gonna post the reincarnation fic butttt that one is a little too dear to my heart ALL SEGMENTS THAT SHOW UP IN THIS SERIES ARE MINE ‼️ i created them, do not take them to use for yourself.

00. THE SEGMENTS

01. MIDWINTER

02. JOY

03. THE COLOR PURPLE

04. THE FAMILY JEWELS

05. AN INEXORABLE DEATH

06. RISE OF A KING, FALL OF A QUEEN

07. A WARM WELCOME

08. THE DOCTOR

09. THE TIES THAT BIND

10. GENESIS

11. DOWN THE RABBIT HOLE

12. SPIT IN MY FACE

13. ALEA IACTA EST

… TBA

SIDE STORIES

THREE TIMES THE SEGMENTS MET YOU WITHOUT REALIZING IT, AND ONE TIME THEY DID.

rbs appreciated!

#dottore x reader #dottore smut #dottore x you #genshin x reader #genshin smut #genshin x you #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x you

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sparrowrye · 3 months

Text

Alastor x Fem! Reader {soulmates} Part Pilot

Synopsis: soulmate AU where you have the same mark on your body as your soulmate, and if your soulmate dies you also die. Alastor needs to make sure that his soulmate is safe so he can continue his reign - whatever that takes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The hair on the back of my neck rose half a second before something hard hit my head. I couldn't see anything but I could still feel when I hit the pavement. I rolled onto my back and tried to kick up at whoever was there.

Multiple hands grabbed me and dragged my across the hard ground. I felt my strength slowly coming back with my sight. There wasn't much to see as three dark figures towered above me. My back cracked when they slammed me into the wall.

One of them grabbed my jaw and dug their fingers into my cheek. I tried clenching my teeth but they easily pried my mouth open. I tried flicking my wrist but the rocks under my feet barely moved. They had hit my head so I couldn't use my magic. Now they were trying to drug me. Keep a mage discombobulated or high and they can't use their magic.

One of them had their entire weight on my legs and the other had my arms pinned against my side. They slipped a powder past my lips and clamped my mouth shut. I took a deep breath before they pinched my nose. I had only seconds before I passed out and they could get the rest of the powder down my throat. It was already soaking into my tongue and cheeks. I tried scrapping it against my teeth.

The weight on my feet disappeared. I tried kicking them but there was nothing but air. I pulled my leg up and dug my heel in their groin. They fell back and slammed into the wall behind them at an inhuman speed. I reached for the last attacker's eyes and dig my nails in. He let go and jumped over me as if to run. I immediately spat on the ground and wiped my tongue with the back of my hand.

I looked around at the dark alley. Everything was starting to double, the colors a wild red and blue. Some of it had gotten into my system. I saw two men laying still on the ground, the other running for the bright road. Something flew past my face and strikes him dead center in the back of his head. His body fell limp.

"Are you alright, my lady?"

I turned over my shoulder to see Alastor, the Radio Demon, towering above me. His eyes seemed to glow in the dark alley and his coat was as red as blood. I knew he was tall but he looked even more terrifying in person. His long, red fingers were outstretched in a kind gesture.

"What do you want?" I demanded.

"Is that any way to treat your savior?" He moved his hand closer, edging me to accept his offer.

"Why would you help me?" I rubbed the back of my head and winced. He grabbed my arm and pulled me to my feet. He stood a full head taller than me but he seemed oddly skinny. He didn't have the muscle I had.

"I know rumors deem me a dark light, but I can assure you I'm still a gentleman at heart. How could I let those fools continue their assault?" He wiped his hand on his coat as if I had some kind of germ or disease on me.

"I didn't ask for the help so I'm in no way obligated to do anything you ask," I said. I looked down to examine my hands because that was better than staring at his terrifying eyes. I lost my balance and fell backwards into the wall.

He grabbed my wrist and roughly pulled it up. I tried pulling it back but he held on painfully tight. I could picture him using his sharp teeth to slice it off in one bite. But he didn't. He dropped my hand and grabbed my chin next. He turned my head as if examining my neck. I tilted my head back and pulled away. I slammed into the wall again but tripped on my own feet, landing right on my tailbone.

He leaned down and grabbed my face again. I tried digging my nails into his wrist but my strength had disappeared. The drug was taking full effect now. "Let go of me, demon," I spat. He used his other hand and dragged a claw down my cheek. I cried and tried pushing him away with my feet. He stepped back, his smile never fading. I covered my bloody cheek and stared him down.

I had managed to stay free for five years. I wasn't about to fall into another mage's trap. I wasn't going to go back. I would rather die trying to escape the Radio Mage than go back. I knew his patience was thin and nothing immoral was off the table for him.

He reached up and touched his cheek, his claws coming back with a dark liquid. He looked down at his fingers before slowly meeting my eyes. That's when it clicked. I felt a rush of cold reality over my body. Matching cuts. A soulmate match.

I put both hands in the ground and pushed myself up. I ran down the alley, jumping over my attacker, and bolted for my home. I tripped several times but nothing was going to stop me. People stared at me as if I had seen a ghost. They didn't know that I had seen worse.

Everything hurt by the time I reached my apartment. I hadn't seen him since the alley so I hoped that meant I had lost him. I fumbled with my keys, struggling for several minutes to get the small key into the lock. I fell into my apartment and slammed the door shut with my feet. I turned the lock and crawled into the corner of the living room. I hugged my legs and stared into the dark apartment. Everything was spinning and unnatural colors jumped out at me. I felt jittery, like everything inside me was buzzing.

I stayed there for several minutes, waiting for the inevitable knock at the door. What was I thinking? I had just led the most powerful mage on this side of the country to my doorstep. I should've hid somewhere else. He of all people could follow someone without being noticed.

The only tell of time was the old clock on the fireplace mantle. I stayed in the corner for nearly forty-minutes, unmoving. Time seemed to be past uncharacteristically fast. I blamed the drugs on that. How long before this wore off, again? It wasn't the first time I had ingested this type of drug. It was the drug they used to keep mages from using their magic.

I finally found the courage to stand. I flipped the light switch and walked along the wall to the bathroom. I fell against the sink, clinging to the edge just to keep myself up. For such a small amount it was having a huge effect on me. Had the drug gotten stronger or had it been that long since it was used on her?

I turned on the faucet and gulped down the cool water. I splashed my face and tired to blink away the bright colors. No amount of drinking or splashing could return me to my normal state. I practically choked on the water and finally turned it off, grabbing the towel off the rack and pressing it to my face. I carefully straightened my feet and tried standing up. I felt more sturdy on my feet now. This meant that I had passed the peak of the drug. I was on the hill down to my normal state.

I let out a sigh and hung up the towel. I looked at my red eyes and saw another pair behind me. I screamed and spun a cast back at him. I slipped and fell into the old tub. I slipped into the corner with my hand outstretched. The faucet dug into my spine. He practically glided into the small room.

"Don't come closer!" I yelled. "My accuracy gets better every time."

"Your Slight magic stands no chance against me," he mused, "but I appreciate the confidence."

"The fuck do you want?" I demanded again.

"Should it surprise you that I want to meet my soulmate?" He tilted his head to the side.

"If you kill me you also die," I reminded him.

He chuckled. "I know how the magic of soulmates work, my dear." He stepped close and held out a hand to me. "If I wanted you dead, I would have done so already." The deepening of his tone didn't make me want to accept his gesture any more than already. "I'd like to have a civil conversation, if you don't mind."

It was another moment before I slowly laid my hand on top of his. He was careful to wrap his claws around my hand and didn't roughly pull me to my feet this time. I stepped out of the tub and let him lead me out of the room. He finally let go of my hand, gliding to the small fireplace and lighting it with a snap of his fingers.

He perched himself on one of the chairs and motioned for me to sit in the other one. I quietly obliged, my eyes never once leaving his smiling face. His trademark cane seemingly appeared in his lap.

"What do you want?" I asked less aggressively this time.

"My my, you're a distrustful soul aren't you?" He leaned his cheek on his hand.

"With my history you would be too," I said.

"What do you do for a living?"

"Anything and everything. Really anything that pays me."

"A tradition-breaker I see," he said. "Most women your age are attending school or doing housework for a master or husband."

"Let's just say I'm not well liked."

"Did you know those men?" he prompted.

"No, but they probably knew me."

"Does that happen to you often?"

"It's not frequent but it's not possible to avoid either," I answered. My clasped hands were sweaty and my cheek pinched from the dried blood on it. He was still sporting the same cut on his own cheek, clearly visible in the firelight.

"What did they want with you?" He was sitting straight again with his legs partly crossed and his hands clasped in his lap. Everything in me was tense and conscious. My hair on the back of my neck was standing up. I needed to get the demon out of my house.

"I used to belong to a fight ring."

"Lovely." His tone suggested anything but that. He looked down at his watch and let out a short sigh. "My my, it's sure getting late. We should be heading back."

"We?" I stood up just as he did.

"I can't leave my soulmate in danger, now can I?" He stepped closed to me.

"I know how to go under again," I said quickly. "I'll be leaving town and changing my appearance. No one will know it's me again."

"Then I wouldn't be able to find you again." His eyes grew brighter the further we walked away from the fire. I bumped into the kitchen table and tried to put it between me and him.

"I'm sure this will scar and you'll be able to tell it's me." I pointed to my cheek. "Or I could just let you know where I go. That way you know where I am."

"If I bring you with me I'll always know where you are." I found myself staring at a shadow the second his claws touched my shoulder. I turned and he shoved me into the wall by my neck. "Besides, I of all people could keep you safest." His claws squeezed my neck.

"I feel qui-quite safe, I'm okay. I-I assure you." I casted a forced smile up at him. The room seemed to darken around his bright red eyes.

"I'm sorry, dear, it's not a request." He slipped his hand behind my neck and pulled me against him. He slammed his cane down on the ground with a cold THUD. His hand moved behind my back as the floor disappeared from beneath my feet. I instinctively grabbed at him to keep myself from falling. Wind whipped my hair around but I didn't dare let go.

My feet abruptly touched solid ground and the wind died down. I carefully let go with one hand to move my hair out of the way. Around me was a dark forest and the sound of waves crashing was apparent, as was the smell of the sea.

His chuckled vibrated through me and I jumped away. "Where the hell are we?" I turned around to see a dark mansion sitting on the cliff's edge. It's pointed roofs sliced through the light blue of the set sun.

"Welcome home, dear," Alastor said as he walked past. I spun in a circle, seeing nothing but forest and ocean. How far were they from civilization? For his reputation, probably hundreds of miles. Maybe even thousands. I crossed my arms and rubbed them to keep warm.

I turned around to see him waiting for me. His smile was still plastered to his face but his teeth weren't showing this time. He was leaning on his cane, if you called his stance leaning, at the base of the porch steps. I clenched my teeth and forced my feet to take one step after another.

Once I had reached him, he put a hand up to stop me. He tried to touch my forehead but I jerked back, my knees nearly buckling underneath. "Relax darling," he said, "I can ease the drug effect." I forced myself to be still as he swept his palm across my forehead. My vision cleared and the bright colors disappeared. I felt more stable but my magic was still out of service.

"Where are we?" I asked.

"Home, dear." He turned and walked into the old house. I looked around once more before following him. Inside looked as dark as the outside. The door slammed shut and the lights abruptly lit up at the snap of his fingers. The house's true colors came through - a deep purple and velvet with dark wood accents.

To the right was the living room that held the warm fire and large windows. To the left was the dining room with what looked like stacks of old furniture and other timely pieces. Did he collect things?

"You don't..." I hesitated, "you don't think...that you can keep me here for the rest of my life."

"I do." He spun his cane and slammed it into the wood flooring. "Because just as you said, lovely, if you die, I die. You have made a name for yourself just as I have. You should be thanking me really," he said walking past me.

"Thank you?" I scoffed.

"I'm doing you a favor. No more of this running from town to town nonsense. Now you have a place to call home and don't have to worry a hair on your head about living to the next day."

"I'd prefer freedom over a fancy cage. I've survived on my own just fine for twenty-one years of my life. I'm no housemaid."

"Then let me put it simply." He stepped dangerously close until I jammed my heels into the door. He leaned down so his yellow teeth were inches from my nose. "You will remain here for the rest of your life, whether you like it or not." The room began to darken. "I have my ways of keeping people in their place. We may share scars but we don't share pain." His face contorted unnaturally and his eyes looked less humane. I felt sick. "You should remember that when you think of defying me. I'm called the Radio Demon for a reason." He abruptly stood up and the lights came back. "Sound good, darling?"

My shoulders fell with my spirit.

#hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #soulmates #soulmate au #alastor the radio demon

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hxzbinwrites · 4 months

Note

So excited for the new blog! Can you please do some headcanons of Vox and imp! Partner in a cute soulmates AU?? Out of all places for Vox to meet his soulmate at last, it’d be in hell of all places! And his imp partner is super adorable and sweet and kinda polar opposite from him. At first he’s in denial but over time he starts falling in love anyway <<333

Vox x Imp! Soulmate! Gn! Reader | Savior |

(I didn’t know what gender you wanted (Y/n) to be, so I just went ahead and put gn! I hope that’s okay!)

Warnings ⚠️: Cussing, Violence, Classism, Imp racism

Vox sat down at his “desk” of sorts. Glancing at his various monitors over the lip of his coffee mug. His bored expression evident on his face. Voxtech was doing great, a little too great. Nothing needed fixed, reprogrammed, or anything. Not even that little radio demon was active in his business today. Just plain nothing.

Val was busy doing whatever freakish things he does and Velette was prepping for her next fashion show next week, so there’s nothing he can do with them. He’s burnt practically every bridge with all of the other Overlords, so it’s not like he can go prancing up to them asking for a play date, all he can do is just sit here, in boredom, and watch screens flicker by. Watching all of these other sinners revel in his technology, unknowingly being watch by a extremely bored Vox.

He sighed, setting down his coffee mug as he stood up to stretch, placing a hand on his lower back before someone, or something, jerked his hand in another direction.

His screen glitched in aggravation, who the hell dare tug him. He isn’t a rag doll, he’s an Overlord. He’s THE VEE, He’s VOX.

With his electronic brows furrowed, he whips his head around to see no one in sight, before looking down at a bright red string coiled around his wrist, tugging him towards his elevator.

His eyes widen in shock, a soulmate string?? He didn’t have a soulmate. Not when he was alive, not when he fell into Hell, not…until now apparently.

‘I have nothing better to do I suppose’ He thought, walking towards his elevator.

————

Wondering around the Pride Ring was something most Imps didn’t do. The Pride Ring was for sinners, not for Imps. Well, (Y/n) certainly didn’t care. They walked about, with their head high and their tail swishing behind them. Well, until they got jerked in the other direction.

“The hell?” They muttered, looking at the string coiled around their wrist. This can’t be, (Y/n) didn’t have a soulmate. Haven’t had one ever, and probably wasn’t supposed to. Chalked it up to bad luck.

‘Good thing I listened to my gut to come to the Pride Ring. Alright soulmate, I hope you’re worth the trouble….and a piece of eye candy.’

They marched ahead, ignoring glances from sinners as they walked towards some of the more taller buildings.

Looking up, they saw in the far distance a huge tower, adorned with three V’s, all with their respective colors. Their heart fluttered, indicating that was where their soulmate resided. The string pulled once more in that direction before (Y/n) began to walk once more, following it.

They walked what seemed like forever, about halfway from the point they saw the tower to the tower, before something pulled on the opposite wrist.

“You little Imp.” A man said,”What do you think you’re doing up here? You don’t belong with sinner-kind, go back down there to the Wrath Ring where you belong, rodent.”

(Y/n) was shoved against the wall, face pressed against the cold brick of an alleyway. Their heart was racing, what if they died before they could ever meet their soulmate?!

They looked down, seeing their string begin to flash between red and white, alerting their soulmate that (Y/n) was in danger.

‘Please’ They thought,’Please help me my soulmate.’

————

Vox was strolling along the streets of Hell, briskly walking towards whenever the string may take him. People fled the scene from where he walked, too scared to come face to face with an Overlord.

Still, no sign of his soulmate. Irritated that they weren’t close, he sighed, rolling his eyes before he felt a pull, not a tug. He almost fell to the ground, stumbling before regaining his balance. Glitching in annoyance, he looked at his string, flashing in colors. Signaling something.

He had a gut feeling, something in his very core alerting him as well as the string. Wrong. Something is terribly, awfully wrong.

He broke out into a full sprint, shoving anyone out of the way who didn’t move fast enough for his urgent pace. He stopped near an alleyway, seeing a sinner press a poor imp against the wall. The imp was quivering in fear, until they locked eyes with Vox. The string disappeared, and he felt…whole. Completed. He didn’t even realize he was missing a piece of himself until he found it. But an…imp? He’s with an imp. Him, and overlord, with a hellspawn? It can’t be possible. It shouldn’t be possible.

While internally he was having these thoughts, he acted on pure instinct and without even thinking he took the sinner’s head and smashed it into the brick wall, with a force so hard he created an indent in the brick itself and the sinner’s body fell to the ground.

Without exchanging a word, he lifted the smaller Imp into his arms, found the nearest Voxtech device and teleported through it, bringing him and his newfound soulmate back to his office.

“Who are you? Are you supposed to be my soulmate?” He sneered in disbelief, but stopped speaking whenever the Imp dove in to hug him. His heart rate sped up and his screen started glitching.

“Yeah…” They said,”thank you for saving me. I…I didn’t think I had a soulmate. What’s your name, sir?”

“Vox” He replied,” and yours?”

“(Y/n). I don’t know how you sinners live up here in the Pride Ring, it’s very scary.” They nervously chuckled,”I guess the soulmate string can’t find the other if you’re stuck in different rings.”

“Yeah” He said,”that makes a lot of sense. I want to ask you something, (Y/n). Why did that sinner attack you?”

“Ah, well he said it was because I’m an imp and that I need to return back to the Wrath Ring where I belong….” They said, looking at the floor.

Vox’s clawed fingers gently lifted their chin, locking eyes with the imp. His face seething with anger. His screen was glitching. Looking at his poor soulmate, with tears glistening in their eyes. Oh, these sinner’s who think like that are gonna PAY. He thought back on his earlier thoughts a few moments ago. Who really cares if they’re an imp. This imp is as sweet as can be, perfection incarnate if you will. But this…shoving them into the wall purely based on the fact that they’re an imp. This has to stop. He’s seen the light, his other half. He knows what must be home. His face starts glitching in anger, seething in the rage that someone hurt his precious love.

“If you’ll excuse me, my love, I n-n-need to make a f-few broadcastsss.” Vox said, his glitching making his voice stutter.

He snapped his fingers, making one of his various workers bring a comfy chair over for (Y/n) while he went to go sit at his desk.

He was no longer bored today, no, he had a mission. A mission to protect his precious soulmate at all costs.

————

Word Count: 1159

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hellish-sunsets · 2 months

Note

Lucifer red string of fate soulmate au? Like, maybe he and Lilith originally got together despite the strings because Lucifers was Grey or something at the time; but eventually his turns bright red because turns out his soulmate was mortal and is now a sinner so they can actually be together? I think it would be cute since he's so depressed with Lilith leaving him; now he has the sparkle of hope that he can find the missing piece to his puzzle 😊 if you do end up writing this request could it be super fluffy??? (Also bonus points if Sinner Reader is not only shorter then him but also super kind hearted and sweet!)

I'm a sucker for soulmate AU's! This one got a bit away from me, I'll probably have to make a part two, but for now here's what I got!

Gray Dyed Red

Word Count: 1,912

-------------------------

The strings existed since the beginning of… well, existence. Every being had one tied to their middle finger, or the closest they had to one for the more animalistic ones. No one could see them but the owner of the string, thin things that could never tangle or be broken, either red or gray. And at the end of that string was supposed to be your soulmate. Well, as long as it was red.

Lucifer’s had always been gray.

And yeah, it bothered him at first, but he was quick to push aside and keep himself busy with creating with the other angels. He would lose himself in his work. But then, none of his ideas were good enough. They were too… different. He just wanted to make something he could be proud of.

He was only allowed to watch when Adam and Lillith were made.

Watching wasn’t as much fun, but he could still keep himself distracted. He smiled down at them as they started their lives on the earth they were given.

Then they fell apart. He didn’t understand why. Surely the first man and woman would be soulmates, right? But no, they didn’t fit well at all. They’re relationship was a constant fight of who was in charge. He decided he had to help somehow, and in the process fell in love with Lillith. She told him her string was gray, and he thought that maybe they could make it work. They loved and supported each other! What did it matter if they weren’t soulmates?

Even after their fall to hell, they spent thousands of years in each other's arms.

Then she left.

No word, no note, just an empty bed and an empty castle.

And he knew he was falling apart, shunning the rest of the world, not even reaching out to Charlie anymore, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He just wanted a distraction, something to put his mind on that wasn’t his own failures.

The gray string of his was just a reminder that there was no one for him, not even the woman he gave all his existence to.

But it was strange. All these thousands of years, it had never changed color before.

He didn’t even notice at first, couldn’t pinpoint when exactly it happened. He was in bed, had probably been there far too long. He physically couldn’t sleep anymore, so he needed to distract himself with something else. Maybe he could make an actually good rubber duck today. He should probably shower first, or clean himself in some way. Showers were faster so they usually won out. Though, they didn’t usually end up being faster once he gets in there.

Whatever, he just needed to get up, right?

With a groan, he pushed himself up into a sitting position, stretching his arms over his head. He avoided staring at the empty side of the bed, shoving the covers off to head for the bathroom, the wood floors cold against his feet.

He yawned as he stood in front of the bathroom mirror. That’s when he saw it, a glint of red. He frowned and lowered his hand to stare, wondering what he had seen. It couldn’t have been his eyes, the shade wasn’t quite right. It wasn’t his cheeks. He went to scratch his chin but froze with his hand halfway up.

The string was red, deep and bright and unlike anything he had seen before. He looked down at his hand with wide eyes, not quite comprehending what it meant, but for some reason his heart seemed to flip in his chest. That was strange…

So… he had a soulmate now? How? When? Were they just made, or perhaps they were born somewhere? Were they from Earth? Heaven? Hell? Could he find them now? Maybe it turned because they just entered hell. But then, how good of a person could they be if they were down here with the sinners, perhaps a sinner themself? Was that even the type of person he wanted to interact with? But he had seen so many find their soulmates on the other end of their string and, good person or not, they were always perfect for eachother.

His heart does another flip in his chest.

He forces himself to undress and get in the shower, but his mind kept racing, going over the same questions over and over again.

His shower was much shorter than usual. He wanted to get out as soon as possible.

It had been a very long time since he bothered walking or flying through the city. He didn’t much like the sights or the people. Lilith was the one who dealt with them. Every single one of those sinners was just a reminder of what he had done, a never ending punishment. He preferred avoiding it all together. The last thing he ever wanted was to see how his gift of free will was abused by so many.

But that didn’t matter now. As much as he hated the people and the crowds, he was going to follow this stupid string until he found it’s end.

—-------------------------

A few days passed.

Pentagram city couldn’t be that big, and yet here he was, still searching. He did rest. Occasionally. Sometimes. Probably not enough. The only reason he did rest as much as he did was… well, he wanted to be at his best when he did finally find the end of his string. He wanted to make a good impression!

He narrowed it down to the edge of the city, a more rundown section where new sinners tended to congregate.

So they had to be new to hell. That's why his string suddenly changed color. They must have been a human who recently died and manifested here. He… wasn’t sure how he felt about it. What if she was just as awful as every other sinner? He feared that the most, that he was destined for some terrible person, that he didn’t deserve someone actually nice…

His string went straight down to an alley below. He could avoid the crowd, thank God. He swept down into the alley, feet landing with a quiet clack against the cracked concrete. He withdrew his wings, glancing around his filthy surroundings with a scowl of disgust. Surely there wasn’t anyone lounging in the muck here, right. But no, there was someone here, a sinner in tattered clothes, standing with their back pressed against the brick wall, head bowed as they took deep breaths, like they were calming themself down from something.

A frown tugged at his lips. He glanced down at his hand, eyes tracing the vibrant red string towards this sinner, the other end tied around their finger.

It was them.

He wasn’t entirely sure when he started walking towards them, just knew when his hand clasped around theirs. They jumped, trying to pull away at the sudden contact until their eyes met. They almost immediately relaxed, eyes widening with understanding as they gazed down at their clasped hands, then back up into his eyes. It was odd. No one had looked up at him since Charlie was still young.

He was usually better with words. They would normally come so easily to him, even if they may not always be the best or a bit rambling. But for once in his life, he wasn't sure what to say.

“Hi.” They said, smiling up at him ever so sweetly.

“Hey.” He smiled back, a flush rising in his cheeks. “What, um, brings you… here.” He motioned vaguely to the filthy alley with a slight frown, but the smile returned when he looked down at them.

“Ah, you know, just trying to collect myself and not freak out.” They said with her cheery voice, chuckling a little at themself. “I, uh, I never really thought I'd end up down here. I guess I thought sometimes I'd end up in hell, but honestly I just didn't think about it. But it's okay! I think I get it now.”

He tilted his head slightly in confusion, but that giddy smile never did leave his face. “What do you mean? You know why you’re down here?”

They nodded.

“Yep! I'm here to be with you! That must be it!”

Warmth didn’t bloom in his chest like he's felt in other circumstances. No, it was more like being hit by a freight train face first. In an instant he had them in his arms, savoring their surprised giggle as he squeezed them tight, burying his face in their hair. They happily hugged back.

It could have been only a moment, it could have been hours, but he didn’t care. He didn’t dare let them go until he was sure this wasn't some sort of trick or dream. Only when he was satisfied did he pull away, eyes looking over them intently, committing every contour of their face to memory, every scratch, every scar, those sparkling eyes, that smile sweeter than apple pie. Shit, they really were perfect for him, weren't they? They could confess to murder and he would forgive them instantly.

“My name's Y/N, by the way.”

Even their name was perfect.

“Lucifer.”

“Like the devil Lucifer?” They didn't even look that perturbed, just curious. He chuckled and gave a little bow.

“The one and only. Come on, let's get you cleaned up.”

‐—-------------------

It was strange, having someone in his quarters again, sitting in bed with the sound of the shower running in the back. It felt… right. It was proper he wasn’t alone anymore. How things were meant to be. Nice.

He sat up straighter when he heard the shower turn off. A few long minutes passed before she came out, dressed in a simple white sundress he provided. He wasn’t very good at making clothes, he preferred creating animals and things similar, but at the very least it looked like it fit, accentuating her sweet smile.

He could feel his cheeks heating up, but he ignored it in favor of exaggerating the smile she brought to his face.

She sat on the edge of the bed next to him, running her fingers through the damp strands of her hair.

“Well…” She started, but wasn't really sure what to say, voice drifting off. She stared at her feet, unsure what else to do.

He tilted his head to the side, just watching her for a moment. He reached out for her, hesitating for a moment before cupping her cheek, guiding her head to turn towards him. He just… he needed to see her eyes again. He needed to be sure she's real and in front of him and this wasn't some sort of trick.

She smiled at him and leaned into his hand. His heart melted.

“I didn't think I'd ever find my soulmate.” She admitted in a whisper. “My string was always gray before, so I thought…” She trailed off and shrugged. He nodded his understanding.

“Yeah, me too. ‘Sorta assumed I just didn't have one since I wasn't human. I think it's more common for demons and angels to have gray strings.” His brows furrowed in thought, but whatever was running through his mind vanished as she turned her head to kiss the palm of his hand.

“... what do we do now?” She asked.

He gulped and shook his head, gathering his thoughts.

“I suppose I should introduce you to my daughter.”

#reader insert #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer magne #hazbin hotel lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel reader insert #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer x reader #hazbin lucifer x reader #gray dyed red #soulmate au #hazbin hotel soulmate au

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angelst4rs · 1 month

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☆. . . stupid string.

☆. . . a red string suddenly appeared on scaramouche's finger. and he does not like it.

☆. . . gn reader, red string of fate au, scara's pov.

☆. . . wrote this after i told @fairykazu about the idea. hope you like it, vidia 🫶

stupid. he truly does think it’s stupid. everything about the red string tied around his pinky finger, which will supposedly “lead him to his soulmate”, is just stupid.

scaramouche disliked—no, he detested the very concept of this. why would he want a soulmate? he’s already content with living all by himself. besides, what kind of person would like him, let alone love him?

must be some kind of weirdo, he thought. the more he stared at the crimson colored thread, the more annoyed he got. with the way it was tightening around his finger, he knew his soulmate was actively trying to search for him.

there’s no way in hell will he let his soulmate find him, so he did the one thing that would make sense for him to do, cut the string.

“...what the actual fuck…?” scaramouche muttered in disbelief as he watched the scissors break in his hands when he attempted to cut the string. do the archons hate him that much? what kind of sick joke was that?

so he’s doomed to meet his soulmate eventually, huh? which one of the archons proposed this stupid idea anyway? guess his bucket list of fighting an archon will be crossed out again.

not wanting to give up so easily, he tried everything that he could think of to try and sever the thread on his finger. but again, nothing worked. just what was this string made of? the very thread that binds the universe into one? probably.

stumped and out of ideas, scaramouche simply sat down and contemplated everything. feeling the red cord tighten once more, he couldn’t help but wonder, why is my soulmate trying so hard to find me?

as the days flew by, scaramouche started to live with the string around his finger, trying his best not to untie it—which did work, but the string simply reappeared again, now tied even tighter around his pinky.

if he’s honest, he’s quite amused by how persistent his soulmate is in finding him. perhaps his soulmate is getting very close to him at this point, maybe he’ll meet them in just a few days. who knows?

on many of his sleepless nights, scaramouche’s mind is plagued heavily by his soulmate. or at least, the idea of his soulmate. just what does the world have to offer for a puppet?

what kind of person are they? do they enjoy bitter tea like he does? how will they react when they finally meet him, someone—no. something that’s nothing but a work discarded by his creator?

maybe he’ll just leave this up to fate. it’s no use obsessing over something that’ll eventually happen. whether he’ll like it or not, his soulmate will come. and whether they’ll accept him or not, that’s a story for another day.

likes & reblogs are greatly appreciated.

#lyn writes ☆#scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #wanderer #wanderer x reader

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arlana-likes-to-write · 6 months

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I Wanna Be In Love

Summary: Soulmates were overrated. They added nothing to the world besides seeing color which wasn't important to Yelena but every time she sees her family with their soul mates she can't help but feel jealous. A little trip to a small town to clear her head, she wasn't expecting to see the world in color.

Warning: soulmate AU, fluff, violence, gun shots, mention of past abuse, mention of killing, cult, injuries, blood, kidnapping?

Word Count: 6.2k

Soulmates were overrated. Yelena was too busy to find her soulmate. They were distractions, and she didn’t need to see color for her job. She didn’t care that she couldn’t see the color of Fanny’s fur or the flowers in Melina’s garden. It didn’t bother her that she had to watch everyone around her interact with their soulmate and see the world in color. She was fine. Those were the thoughts that Yelena kept running through her mind. Every. Single. Day. She crossed paths with many people: Red Room missions, contract work with Valentina, and now her time with the Avengers. Still, her vision remained in black and white. “Are you okay?” Kate asked, sitting down next to her. Yelena was sipping coffee, watching her sister and Maria in the kitchen. Maria was cooking a simple meal for lunch, and it smelt amazing. It would have been done by now, but Natasha kept distracting her. She wrapped her arms around the brunette’s waist or spun her around to kiss her. It was gross. It’s cute but gross.

“I’m fine,” The archer chuckled.

“Yeah, sure, because you look like you’re going to murder your sister,” Yelena sighed, staring into the coffee. “Do you want advice or for me to leave you alone?” The blonde shrugged. Even Kate found her soulmate, a girl she met in college. She was nice. Yelena liked her.

“I want,” Yelena paused, struggling to find the words. Her sister’s laughter caught her attention. This time, Maria had her arms around the redhead, tickling at her sides. A deep ache filled Yelena, a tightness in her chest. “To be in love.” She admitted. Yelena grabbed her coffee and left the archer to get a word out.

Yelena needed to go for a drive. So she packed a few things in her truck for her and Fanny and left the compound. She told her sister and Kate that she needed a small break from missions. They knew an underlying reason for her leaving, but they didn’t question it. Yelena drove with the radio softly on, her best friend in the passenger seat, and no destination in mind. She tried to date, ignoring the soulmate and forcing a relationship to work, but they never did. There was no spark, no flip in her stomach, and her heart didn’t skip. So the relationship ended, and Yelena was left with the constant wonder of what it would feel like to be in love. She wanted the daydreams, jealousy, and all the little things that came with yearning. She wanted the warmth to flood her head.

Her Bluetooth ringing cut through the song she was listening to and her racing thoughts. It was Natasha. With a sigh, she answered the call. “The world better be on fire right now.”

“Ha, ha, ha, very funny,” Yelena rolled her eyes, offering Fanny some pets as she got excited from hearing Natasha’s voice. “The world is above to be covered in ice and snow,” Yelena frowned. “There is a winter storm warning. You picked a horrible time to go on a self-reflection journey.” The blonde looked at the sky. It was cloudy, and she did notice the temperature dropping. “Where are you?”

“No idea,” she shrugged.

“Sestra…” Natasha sighed.

“I just passed an existing sign for a small town,” the blonde said. “I’ll stop there and wait out the weather.” Yelena could see the tension leaving her sister’s shoulders.

“Okay, text me when you get somewhere safe.” The two Black Widow sisters said their goodbyes, and Yelena sighed when the call ended. This was not part of her plan.

The town of Chester was the spitting image of one of those towns in the cheesy Christmas movies Kate forced her to watch. A mountain that was blanked with snow set the background. The buildings were brick, and a bell tower was at the center of the town. It was cute - peaceful even. A little too friendly as Yelena got out of her truck and was greeted with a smile or wave from those walking on the sidewalk. She put a leash on Fanny’s collar. The American Akita was great off-leash, but the duo was in a new place, and she wasn’t sure how the town felt about a random dog. She put her backpack on and headed to the hotel. It was a quick Google search to determine if the hotel was pet-friendly. The hotel lobby was warm to the point Yelena unzipped her jacket. It was coming from the fireplace with couches and tables around it. It reminded Yelena of the lob cabin that Tony built. The place felt homey. She walked over to the front desk, holding onto Fanny’s leash tightly.

“What a beautiful dog,” her name tag said Linda. “What’s her name?”

“Uh, Fanny,” Yelena said. She was surprised the older woman didn’t bat an eye at her accent. The Akita sat down. “I was wondering if you have any available rooms.” Linda turned to face her computer.

“How long do you plan on staying?” That was a great question.

“Not sure,” she raised a questioning eyebrow at the blonde. “I needed a break from work.” Fanny tugged at the leash as Linda gave her an understanding smile.

“I understand that, dear. I need a card to put on file, and I’ll get you all checked in.” Another tug from Fanny’s leash. Odd. As Yelena went to pull out her wallet, Fanny tugged again, and the lease left Yelena’s hand.

“Fanny,” she called out to her dog. “I’m so sorry. Give me one second.” Yelena chased after the dog, who was circling a guest. You were holding a few books and laughing as you tried to move around Fanny’s leash. “I’m so sorry. Fanny, prikhodit’ (come).” The dog stopped and sat next to her owner. You giggled, finally looking up at the Black Widow. The air was knocked out of Yelena’s lungs. Color. She was the color of the wooden lobby she was standing in, the color of the books you held, and your shirt. “Purple,” she whispered. “Your shirt is purple, right?” Natasha loved to spend hours describing colors in words that Yelena could understand. You seemed just as stunned. Your mouth kept opening and closing.

“Yeah,” you said, licking your lips. “I mean, that’s what people tell me.” Your eyes locked with hers. “Green,” you whispered. “Your eyes are green.” Yelena knew that. Natasha spent a whole day describing the colors of her eyes. “I’m Y/n,” Yelena whispered your name back.

“Yelena. It’s nice to meet you.”

The Black Widow was sure she would pace a hole into the floor while Fanny lay on the bed. She spent 20 minutes staring at her reflection. The green of her eyes. Her blonde hair. The colors of the ringers that laced her fingers. She spent the next 10 minutes scrolling through her photos. She saw the red of her sister’s hair, the blue of Kate’s eyes, and the color of the pigs at Melina’s farm. She saw color, and it was beautiful. She opened the text message chain with Natasha. ‘Found a place to stay,’ ‘All checked in,’ ‘Call me when you can.’ She stared at the messages as the minutes clicked by. Finally, her phone rang, but it wasn’t her sister’s voice. “Hello,” Kate said.

“Where’s Natasha?”

“Yelling at Tony and Steve,” the blonde called, hearing the faint yelling in the background. Yelena sat on the bed. Immediately, Fanny rested her head on her lap. She ran her fingers through her white and brown tinted fur.

“Do I need to come back?”

“Nah, she’s got it covered. So what’s up?” Yelena closed her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“I found her,” she whispered. “I can see color.” The archer was silent on the other end. She wondered if the call dropped, but she did hear rustling on the other end. “Kate Bishop,” Yelena spoke slowly.

“Sorry,” Kate sighed. “Tell us everything.”

This was normal. You were outside your newly found soulmates’ room with sweets and a hot chocolate tray. It was normal that you raced home, had a minor panic attack, changed into something cuter, and begged Linda to get Yelena’s room number. Completely normal. Before you lost your nerve, you knocked on the door. You heard movement on the other side, and the door finally opened. Her confused face morphed into a smile. “Hi,”

“Hi,” you said, a little out of breath. Her eyes were memorizing. They were a gorgeous shade of green. You realized you were staring, and your body felt warm from embarrassment. “I don’t know what I’m doing,” you admitted. “But I brought hot chocolate, and maybe we can talk.” Her smile grew.

“Yeah, let me take this for you,” she took the tray from you and held open the door to her room. She set the tray on the table, and you shut the door. Her dog jumped from her spot and ran over to you. You knelt to pet her.

“You are a gorgeous, gorgeous girl,” she rewarded you with a few kisses. You looked at Yelena, who was holding one of the mugs and had a fond smile on her face. “Sorry.”

“Please don’t apologize; it’s cute.” Her statement made you feel even more embarrassed. You stood up, taking the mug she offered. “Do you want to sit here or on the bed, or we can stand,” you giggled. Her cheeks blushed a light pink. “I also have no idea what I’m doing.”

“We can sit here and talk,” you said, sat at the table, and decorated the top of your drink with marshmallows and sprinkles. She sat down next to you, sipping the hot chocolate.

“This is good,” you smiled at her praise. “So tell me about yourself.” You did. You were working at the library while studying to get your degree in environmental science. You’ve lived in Chester for seven years. “Where did you live before this?” You felt your blood turn cold. She was your soulmate, destined to be together or some shit. She would understand, right?

“Uh, Florida,” you sipped on your hot chocolate.

“Florida?” She questioned. “You left the sunshine state for eternal winter.” You giggled.

“Complicated on why I left,” you looked out her window. The snow was coming down harder. “Besides, I love the snow.” Snow meant you weren’t a prisoner. Snow told you escaped. Snow meant freedom.

“Do you need to head out before it gets worse?”

“Kicking me out already?” You teased. Her eyes widened. “I’m kidding. I can leave if you want me to.” She shook her head.

“No, stay, please.”

“Okay,” you smiled. “So why did you choose to study environmental science?” You spent the next few hours learning about one another. It got close to dinner time, so Yelena ordered room service to her room. It was a simple plate of burgers and fries that you tried to help pay for, but she refused your money. It was oddly lovely learning about the Avenger, significantly since you believed you’d never find your soulmate. You spent your entire life trapped on your father’s property, hidden from the world. Until you saved enough money and ran, ran, and ran some more. This small town of Chester welcomed you and didn’t question your mysterious past.

You found yourself laughing at a story Yelena was telling you. “Why did you fill her entire room with rubber ducks?” You asked once your laughter died down. Yelena smiled

“Kate Bishop, Peter Parker, and I are involved in a serious prank war,” she explained. “She died my suits hot pink, so I filled her room with 500 rubber ducks.” You giggled, glancing at the clock. It was almost 10 o’clock.

“I should get going,” you said. “You’ve had a long day of traveling.” Something flashed in her green eyes that you missed, but she smiled.

“Yeah, it’s probably for the best.” You helped her clean up the food and put the extra in her fridge. You gave Fanny extra belly rubs before Yelena walked you to the door. “Here,” she handed you a piece of paper with her number. “I should have given you this when we met,” you giggled, putting it in your pocket, then slipped your jacket on.

“I could have done the same,” you began to play with the ring on your finger. It was a gift from your mother. “There is a diner in town that serves amazing breakfast. Do you want to meet there in the morning?” Her smile grew.

“I’d love to. Text me the name,” you nodded. There was this awkward pass between you and her, unsure of how to end this. “You could stay,” she whispered. “Because of the weather.” She added on quickly. You wanted to. Some of you wanted to know what it felt like to be held in her arms, or would she want you to hold her? You sighed.

“I want to, but I shouldn’t. We should take this slow.” Yelena nodded, slipping her hands in her pockets and looking down at her feet. You gathered up some courage and took a step forward in her space. Gently, you lifted her head and kissed her cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” her cheeks were flushed. “Yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow.” You smiled and turned to leave, but her hand grabbed yours, spun you back around, and connected her lips with yours. You tensed up, not expecting her to kiss you. She pulled away. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I’ve been thinking about-” You cut her off with a kiss. The feeling of her lips on yours was a feeling you would get addicted to. You moved your hands to cup her cheeks and pulled her closer. Fanny barked, and it startled you apart. Yelena groaned, her head falling onto your shoulder. You chuckled.

“I’ll text you when I’m back safe, okay?” You kissed her one more time before leaving her room. You rested your back on the closed door, touching your fingers to your lips. They tingled as you still felt her lips against yours. Smiling, you left the hotel and walked back to your apartment.

‘I’m back. It was amazing getting to know you. See you in the morning.’ Yelena smiled at her phone. “Ooo, it’s that the new boo,” Natasha teased. Yelena groaned, flopping onto her back while on a video call with her sister. “When do we get to meet her?

“I do not know,” Yelena sighed. “She’s lived here for seven years. I can’t force her to leave.” But Yelena was worried about the life you left behind, the life you weren’t discussing. You gave no details - Yelena wasn’t stupid, though. She was a former Red Room assassin, a hired gun, and now an Avenger. She made it this far because she listened to her instincts. You were scared.

“You have your thinking face on,” the blonde rolled her eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she said, but she knew Natasha did not believe her. She could use her connections to discover the truth, but that was a breach of trust. “I’m going to bed. It’s been a long day. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, sestra.” The two sisters said goodnight, and Yelena set her alarm for the morning. She put her phone on the nightstand and cuddled up with Fanny. The dog rested her head on Yelena’s chest. “How did you know?” She asked, scratching her head. “Or did you just find her cute?” Fanny liked her hand. “You are a great wingdog.” She chuckled and closed her eyes. It was a busy day, and sleep found her quickly.

The smell of coffee and cinnamon filled your senses as you opened the door to The Lighthouse. It was warm, a stark contrast to the temperatures outside. You saw Yelena in the corner, back to the kitchen, and she faced the door. Smiling, you walked over to her. “Hi,” you said, removing your scarf and placing it on the hook. “I hope you weren’t waiting long.” She shook her head as she stood up, helped you out of your jacket, and hung it up.

“I wasn’t,” you sat down. “I just ordered some coffee.” You grabbed her hand, running your thumb over her knuckles. She smiled at the gesture. You determined you loved making her smile. “Now tell me what to get.”

You ordered the waffles with strawberries on top, and Yelena got the pancakes with scrambled eggs. Once breakfast was done, you argued with Yelena about who would pay (you won) and went back to the hotel room to get Fanny. You showed them around your tiny home, the best views of the mountains, where the kids went ice skating, and the route for the parade for every major holiday.

You sat on a bench near the park, watching Fanny run around in the snow. Your head was resting on Yelena’s shoulder, fingers intertwined with hers. “How long are you staying here?” You felt her shoulders move up and down as she sighed.

“Not sure,” she kissed the top of your head. “As long as I can, but we’ll figure it out, okay?”

“Yeah,” you smiled. ‘We’ll figure it out.”

Yelena should have known better. Her happiness would get stripped away as soon as the world was kind to her. It happened when she was six and blipped, resulting in her losing five years. It was not a surprise when she found her soulmate; Avenger duties would call. You were very understanding, but Yelena could see the disappointment on your face as you said goodbye to her and Fanny. The Black Would promised to call and visit as soon as possible. You kissed her softly, telling her to stay safe. It was one of the hardest goodbyes she had to make. Her teammates knew she was upset when she returned to the compound after being away for four days. But she had an obligation, an annoying obligation, but an obligation nonetheless. So she was on a mission with your lips on hers, the phantom feeling of your fingers playing with her rings, and your smile on her mind. It was those things, and the promise to see you kept her going.

Yelena dropped her bag to the ground as soon as she entered her room. Her body ached, and she screamed for a day off. She returned from a two-month deep undercover mission. That type of work was her favorite; convincing the people around her she was someone else was thrilling, but she was glad to be home. The bad guys were caught, and it was time to relax. She lay on her bed and pulled out her phone. There was limited contact, so it was quick text messages between you and Yelena. No phone calls meant Yelena was dying to hear your voice, but she knew you were at work. She sent a quick test, ‘Back home. Call me when you’re done. Miss you.’ She ensured her ringer was up before setting it on her side table. Sleep was quick to follow the Black Widow.

The shrill sound of her phone ringing woke her up. Though her eyes were laced with sleep, she didn’t recognize the number. “Hello?” She answered.

“Hi, this is Miss. Yelena, right?” The blonde sat up.

“Speaking, can I ask whose calling?” She knew that voice, but her sleep-deprived brain had trouble connecting.

“Oh, I’m sorry, it’s Linda, the owner of the Woodland Hotel. I do apologize for intruding, and I got your number from when you checked in,” Linda explained. “Oh, this is a complete breach of privacy.”

“Linda,” Yelena cut off her nervous rambling. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s Y/n,” the owner of the hotel said. The blonde was quick to her feet, still wearing the clothes she returned in, and walked over to her room. “She is going to kill me when she finds out I called you.”

“Is she in danger?” She took the stairs two at a time to get to her sister’s room and banged on the door. Maria opened the door, and she pushed past her sister’s girlfriend.

“Yes,” Linda said. “You need to get Chester quickly.”

Your hands wouldn’t stop shaking as you walked the typical streets of Chester, where you once felt safe. They were here. You weren’t sure how your father’s me found you, but they did. They were waiting - they sat at the diner you and Yelena ate at or checked in at the Woodland Hotel. But you weren’t sure what they were waiting for, so you were trapped. You took your keys out of your bag and unlocked the door, quickly going in and locking the door. You made a beeline for your bedroom, slamming the door closed and pushing our dresser in front of it. Dumping the contents of your bag on your bed, you find your phone and see the missed message from Yelena. You hesitated on calling the blonde. This was your mess, and she had just returned from a mission. With a sigh, you hit the call button. “Sweetheart,” you sounded panicked.

“Hi baby,” you tried to keep your voice steady, but you knew she heard it. “I’m in a little bit of trouble.” She laughed.

“I know,” she knew? She knew? How the hell-oh you were going to kill Linda. “I’m almost there. Where are you?”

“My apartment,” you walked into your closet and used your thumb to open up a small gun safe. “Front door is locked, and I pushed my dresser against my bedroom door,” you felt oddly calm. Something about hearing Yelena’s voice made you believe you would be okay. You loaded the pistol and put two extra magazines in your back pocket. “There are 5 of them. Probably armored with an assault rifle, pistol, and a knife.” You grabbed the knife that your father gave you for your 5th birthday. The man was a leader of a religious doomsday cult; he taught you how to be around weapons. “They are only here to capture me, but they’ll kill anyone in their way.” Yelena was quiet.

“Impressive,” you chuckled, putting the phone on speaker.

“I’ve been running from them for a long time,” you said, removing your shirt and putting on a bulletproof vest.

“Who are they?” A voice you didn’t know asked. “Natasha.” Damn, she was bringing the cavalry. You toed off your sneakers and wore combat boots and a new long-sleeved shirt.

“They call themselves the Arms,” you sighed. This was not how you wanted to tell her. “They are part of the security for my father.”

“And who is your father?” Another voice asked. “Kate.” She added on. You closed your eyes.

“Vincent Pierce.”

“Vincent Pierce,” a new voice repeated, and you knew the name. “Your soulmate is the daughter of a man on the FBI and Shield’s most wanted list.” You chuckled darkly.

“She didn’t know,” you said. “Not something I like to talk about on the first date.” You got Kate to laugh. “If I get out of this, I’ll help you put the son of a bitch in jail.”

“Not if,” Yelena said. You heard her take you off speaker and walk away. “When you get out of this.” You sighed. She was so unaware of the power your father had.

“Lena, if-”

“No,” she snapped. “We are 15 minutes out.” You heard a bang on your front door. “Do you have a weapon?”

“Pistol and a knife. I have two extra magazines.” Another bang forced you to stand up and undo the safety of the gun. You were so tired of the power that man had over you. You’ve been free from him for years, but you should have known better. His power was like a vice grip on your neck as long as he was alive. You were squeezing until you couldn’t breathe. It was so unfair.

Everyone dreamed of finding their soulmate and having that happily ever after. Your mom talked about finding hers one day. She spent her entire life seeing the world in black and white. “I love you,” Yelena laughed.

“Say that again when your life isn’t threatened,” she said. “Promise?”

“Promise.” You were going to keep that promise.

The small town of Chester erupted into chaos as the sounds of gunshots came from your apartment. You told Yelena there were only 2 of them before the line went dead, so they were missing 3. Kate and Yelena ran towards your apartment. She didn’t expect the second time being here to save you from your cult leader father’s minions.

The front door was on the ground, and Yelena already had her gun out. It was too quiet for her, and a man was lying face down in a pool of blood. The archer walked over and checked his pulse. She shook her head. They moved into your room and saw another body, and you were barely holding yourself up. Panic filled Yelena as she rushed over to you. “I’m fine,” you said. She saw no blood, but she pulled up your shirt and stared at the bulletproof vest that saved your life.

“Oh, dorogoy (sweetheart),” you chuckled, and Yelena kissed you so intensely that the world around her was drowned out until Kate cleared her throat.

“I love this for both of you,” the archer smiled. Yelena felt you burrow your face in the crook of her neck. “But I think we should get a move on.” The Black Widow sighed.

“Your right,” Yelena said. “Sorry.” Kate shrugged.

“Give me a second,” Yelena reluctantly let you go, and you walked into your closet, taking off the ripped shirt and the bulletproof vest. You grabbed a sweatshirt before turning around to face them, making sure it covered the pistol that was attached to your hip. The blonde could see a bruise forming on your stomach. “I’m down to one magazine,” you checked your gun.

“I have an extra one you can have,” Yelena told you. “We have her.” She said through the coms. Kate handed you an extra one to put in your ear.

“2 of the men have been dealt with,” Kate added.

“Do we have eyes on the other 3?” You asked. Yelena was impressed. You were handling this well, almost as if you were a shield agent. Once this was over, she could convince you to join the team.

‘Negative,’ Natasha said as Yelena led the group down the stairs and out your apartment door. The town was quiet. It was up to Maria to get all the civilizations back inside their house. ‘Has anyone seen or heard from Maria?’

“No,” Yelena answered her sister. “Do you want us to look for her or meet at the Randevu point?” The redhead sighed, and Yelena knew the internal debate she was having.

‘Get your girl to safety,’ Yelenafelt you grab her hand. Her girl. Her soulmate - who was still in danger and needed to get out of this place.

“Little bunny,” you froze, feet stopping in the snow. Yelena looked towards the direction of the voice. Vincent Pierce was decked out in his signature red suit, and 2 men were on either side. The color drained from your face. “Little bunny, it’s time to come home.”

“Little bunny, it’s time to come home,” the nickname made the little food in your stomach flip. It was once a name that provided comfort, a sign of love, but like everything your father touched, it turned to poison. You dropped Yelena’s hand and faced him. Now that you could see color, the suit was hideous - aviator glasses on and his hair slicked back with gel. “My, my, my,” he took off the sunglasses and handed them to the man on his left. “You’ve grown up.”

“It’s been a while, but I don’t have time for a family reunion. I have somewhere important to be.” You grabbed Yelena’s hand and began to walk away, but the sound of assault rifles being pointed at you caused the three of you to stop.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” he said. “Bring you out.” You spun around quickly to see the third man drag a woman. She was handcuffed, and they pushed her down to her knees in front of your father.

“Maria,” you looked at Kate. There was blood dripping down the side of her head. She was pissed, but at least she was alive. You heard Natasha mutter something in Russia.

“She a friend of yours,” your father taunted.

“Let her go,” you held up your arms to stop Yelena and Kate.

“Stop,” you said to all three of them. This had to be done carefully, or they would all go home in body bags. “What do you want, Vincent? She has nothing to do with this.” You pointed to Maria.

“She does, little bunny because she and the other Avengers are keeping you away from me,” of course. The man was obsessed with control. You were surprised he’d kept you alive this long.

‘Keep him talking,’ Natasha said. ‘I’m almost in position.’ You could do that. He loved to talk.

“Why do you want me to go with you so bad?” You questioned. “Don’t you have enough people under your control?”

“Because you are my daughter,” you scuffed. You were a pawn, another tool used so he could convince others to join him. The same went for your mom. “And I’m the only one who can protect you from the Rapture.” You rolled your eyes.

“I’m not a little girl anymore that will feed into your lies,” you took a deep breath. “I see right through them just like mom did.” You knew bringing her up would strike a nerve. His jaw clenched.

“Your mother was a nonbeliever,” he repeated the same lie. “She was a danger to the cult and you.”

“We need to end this,” Yelena mumbled. “The three min’ony (minions) are getting antsy.” They were. You saw their posture change.

“No,” you said, your hand grazing the pistol on your hip. “You killed her because she wanted to leave. You killed her,” you grabbed your pistol and ignored the way Yelena tried to warn you. “Natasha, get ready,” you mumbled. “Just like how I’m going to kill you.” You drew your pistol at him. Immediately, three assault rifles were pointed at you, and Kate and Yelena drew their weapons. When you fled your father’s prison, you bounced between roadside motels, and every night, without fail, there would be an old Western movie would be on TV. You felt like you were in one now. Maria sat up straighter, fidgeting with the cuffs on her wrist. Your father smiled.

“You won’t kill me,” you undid the safety on the gun. “You don’t have the guts, the strength. That’s the one thing I couldn’t beat into you,” your palm began to feel sweaty. It took weeks for some of the bruises to fade. “You are a weak, spineless little girl, just like your mother.” Oh, you wanted to kill the bastard, but you couldn’t. So you lowered your gun.

“Your right,” you said. You saw Maria nod her head. “I can’t kill you.” You smiled. “But my friend can hurt you. We still need to find the people you’ve held hostage.” It happened rather quickly. A single shot ran through the small town, and a bullet hit your father in the leg. Kate hit the man on the left, and Yelena shot the man on the right. Which left the man that brought Maria out; the brunette kicked her leg out and tripped the man. She jumped up, grabbed him by his winter coat, and punched him until he stopped moving.

The snow crunched below on your feet as you approached your father. There was red staining the snow. “Are you alright?” Yelena asked Maria. The brunette nodded.

“You know, I just had to dislocate my thumbs to break free,” you chuckled, but your eyes remained on the man. He was clenching his leg, which had the bullet wound in it.

“Don’t just stand there, you bitch,” he hissed. “Do something before I bleed out.”

“You don’t get to speak to her like that,” Yelena pulled her pistol on her. “You have no power over her.” There was a small part in you that wanted her to pull the trigger, to kill the monster that haunted your dreams, but it wouldn’t end it. Another one of his men would take his spot. You stepped before her, back to your father, and wrapped your arms around her body.

“Don’t,” you whispered, kissing her neck. “He’s not worth it.” Vincent laughed. The sound caused goosebumps to cover your skin.

“You found her,” you turned to face him as Kate forced the man up and handcuffed him. “You found your soulmate. How adorable.” He lunged forward, but Kate held him back. “Just because I’ll be locked away, this won’t end. The Rapture -” The archer punched him and fell back into the snow.

“That man needs to learn to shut up,” she shook her hand. “He’s got a hard jaw.” You laughed as you heard the sound of hurried footsteps against the snow. A redhead ran over to Maria, wrapping her arms around her; the force lifted her slightly. You smiled at the sight. Yelena tilted your head to look at her.

“Say it,” she whispered.

“I love you, Yelena Belova.” You said without hesitation. Yeah, it was good to keep your promise.

“We found it,” Maria placed the file on the table before you. You were at the Avenger’s Compound. It didn’t take much convincing for you to make a move until your father was prosecuted and sent to the RAFT. You’ve helped Maria bring down The True Creed for the past week. It was tasking, all the things you had to relive that you wanted to forget. Fanny stood up from her spot underneath the table and rested her head on your lap. The American Akita was your source of comfort when Yelena wasn’t around. Inside the folder were SHIELD agents raiding your father’s compound. “We are working with local officials to get everyone home safe and the help they need to recover.”

“It’s over?” You questioned, looking at the deputy director. She smiled, placing a comforting on your shoulder.

“It’s over. Your father or his men can’t hurt you or anyone else.” You let out a shaky breath. You never thought you would see this day. Freedom. You could go anywhere without having to look over your shoulder.

“Thank you, Maria,” you put the pictures back in the folder and handed them back to her. “I don’t know how I’ll be able to repay you.”

“Shut up,” she huffed, hitting your head with the file. “We should be thanking you.” You rubbed the back of your head with a pout. “So, what’s the plan now?” She asked. “Got to high tail it out of here and travel the world.” You laughed, scratching Fanny’s head.

“Yeah, maybe,” she hit the file against her hand.

“Well, do it. You deserve it.” You talked with her a bit about helping those under your father’s ‘brain control’ until Natasha pulled her away. She claimed that since the case was over, they could spend some time together. You smiled and looked down at the dog.

“Come on, sweet girl, let’s go find your mama,” it wasn’t hard to find the blonde. She was in the kitchen making a big pot of mac and cheese. You weren’t sure how she could stomach so much of the cheesy noddles. You wrapped your arms around her waist. Immediately, she leaned back into your embrace. “Smells good, baby,” you said, kissing her neck.

“Mmmm, it’s almost done,” she said. You kept kissing her neck. “If someone will stop distracting me.” She pushed you away playfully. Pouting, you gave her some space. It lasted 30 seconds.

“Baby, can I see your eyes?” She huffed, shook her head, and turned down the food. The color of her eyes still took your breath away. The green reminded you of chasing fireflies - their light would warm the night. Her eyes were like emeralds, like four-lead clovers; when you found them, you would have luck. Green was Mother Nature’s favorite color. The color was a healthy sign of love. It was unbelievable you went so long without seeing that color. “You are beautiful, Yelena Belova,” the blonde rolled her eyes.

“And you are a sap,” she teased but couldn’t fight the smile on her face. “What do you want?” You held out your hand, and she took it.

“Maria said it’s over,” her eyes lit up. “We can go anywhere we want to do.” Late nights were spent in each other’s arms, dreaming of seeing the world together. But Yelena wanted to wait until you were safe and could enjoy your time.

“Really?” She questioned. You nodded with a smile. “We are going to visit St. Petersburg first. I want to see the pigs.” You laughed as Yelena pulled you into her arms. Her lips briefly brushed against yours. “I love you, Deka.” You smiled, heart, skipping at the simple three-letter word.

“I love you too.”

#yelena belove x reader #yelena belove x you #yelena belova x y/n #black widow imagine #black widow one shot #yelena belova #yelena belova x reader #yelena belova x you

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littleocean-rose · 9 months

Text

Our Little Star

Summary: While walking on the way to a pet store to look for a kitten you want to adopt, you trace your hand over your soulmate tattoo on your wrist, the black ink reading one little word on your skin. Byeol. You stare at it, like you’ve done countless times in your life, wondering if you’ll ever meet your soulmate one day.

AU: non-idol, soulmate Pairings: Choi San x reader Warnings: none Word count: 2.1k

A/N: words cannot describe how many people I would kill for Byeol. I love her, I adore, I want to hold and kiss her, she is the most precious baby out there. San I love you but I WILL steal your cat. (jk I’m stealing you both-)

The world was full of different ways for people to meet their soulmate.

Some had it easy. Seeing each other in their dreams, able to communicate their names and location to the other. Dreamers had it the easiest by far, followed by Inkers. Inkers had the ability to communicate to their soulmate by writing on their skin, the words and marks appearing on the others’ skin, allowing them to write down names and numbers and locations. Visionaries were the third lucky ones, getting to see a glimpse of what their soulmate was seeing every now and then, taking in the scenery of where they were, what they were doing.

Others weren’t so lucky. Stringers had that little red thread attached to their pinkies, leading them to their soulmate, but never knowing how close they were to them. For all they knew, that little red string could run across an entire continent or over an ocean. All they knew was what direction their soulmate was in. Phrasers and Tattooists also had it hard. They could go their entire lives without ever meeting their soulmate, hoping to find someone with a matching tattoo, or listening desperately for the words that matched the ink on their skin. Colorists were among that class, too—their world monotone and grey until they finally laid eyes upon their soulmate, their world suddenly bursting into color the moment they found their other half.

Then there were the unlucky ones. Counters, those with timers on their wrists, were ones you always felt bad for. While some times Counters had their timers counting down until the moment they met their soulmate, others had timers that counted down until the moment their soulmate died. There were those who felt their soulmate’s pain, or shared the same wounds as them. Those who bloomed flowers from their skin, flowers that matched the emotions of what their soulmate was feeling. Signs you did in fact have a soulmate but were never given any indication of how they would know they even met them.

You were in the class of Phrasers, your soulmate mark being the first thing you would hear your soulmate say. Some had whole sentences, but you? You had a single word. Byeol. You remembered when you were a child how you obsessed over the word, looking up the definition and seeing it was of Korean origin. So growing up, you learned to speak Korean, studying it every moment you could, until you were fluent in it by the age of thirteen. Your parents encouraged you, just as eager as you to meet your soulmate, and when you hit the age of eighteen, they tearfully drove you to the airport so you could catch your flight to South Korea.

While they supported your decision, they still were sad to see you leaving to live in another country.

It wasn’t like you didn’t visit—you did every chance you could, which was usually every other year, but you were still their only child, and they missed always seeing you in person.

But here you were, nearly seven years later, and you still hadn’t met your soulmate. While it did dampen your spirits, you decided to stop trying so hard to find them. Not because you were quitting and giving up on the idea, no. What was the point of stressing over it? You’d leave it to Fate—if you found them, hey, great! If not, then, well, that didn’t mean you couldn’t start a romance with someone else.

You glanced down at the word again, fingers tracing over the ink as you walked into the pet store. You had recently moved into a new apartment so you could be closer to your job, and you were beyond ecstatic to discover it was a pet friendly home. Wasting no time, you had run out of the house first thing after breakfast on your day off to get yourself a new little companion. While you were originally planning to get one from a shelter, it was on the other side of the city, and you didn’t feel up for the long journey.

Instantly you went to the pets section, face lighting up at the cute animals in their enclosures. You went by the birds, taking a moment to admire their pretty plumage and beautiful songs, and then past the fluffy bunnies. You passed by mice next, stopping to watch them run through their little tubes, and then stopped to watch one of the hamsters run on his wheel. Of course you had to stop and look at the puppies, cooing at how adorable they were, watching them tumble over each other as they played. You had thought about getting a puppy, but in the end you just couldn’t pass up the idea of getting a kitten.

Which was why you were now in front of the cat enclosures. You took the time to look over each cat, aww-ing over their adorable little faces and fuzzy paws that reached out past the bars of their cages. There were some adult cats, a pretty calico catching your eye as you walked by, and then a cute tabby who seemed hyped on caffeine as he bounced off the walls, smacking around one of his toys and making you laugh. Then you reached the kitten area, and your heart melted.

They were at different stages of growth, some bordering on young teen, while others still seemed to wobble a little as they stood. One kitten in particular caught your eye. It was a siamese, large blue eyes staring up at you as it rolled over on its back with a long stretch and yawn, having just woke up from its nap.

One of the employees approached you, a wide smile pulling at his lips. You glanced at his name tag. Wooyoung. “Hello! Did you see someone you wanted to go say hi to?”

You nodded, pointing at the little siamese kitten. “Yeah, if that’s okay?”

The employee nodded. “Yeah, of course! Let me take you in.” Another employee passed the two of you, tall and blonde as he approached another customer that had also been looking at the cat display. You followed Wooyoung to the door where he unlocked it, letting you to get a closer look at the cats. As you entered, a barrage of mewls filled the room, and you couldn’t help but coo at how adorable they all sounded. “Hey guys, we have a visitor! Be on your best behaviors, okay?” Another series of meows filled the air, making the employee grin. “Anyway, go right on ahead and take a look! I’ll be right here to answer any questions you have!”

You thanked Wooyoung, starting with the cages at the back first. You heard the door open again, glancing over to see that same tall employee from earlier enter. “Hey, Yunho! Oh, another person interested in getting a– oh, it’s you again!” You tuned out their conversation, putting all your focus on the cats before you. An orange tabby, curled up into a ball, softly chittered in its sleep, and you nearly had to bite your fist from cooing as to not wake it up from its dream.

You looked over each cat, making your way slowly back to the siamese from earlier, until finally you were standing before its cage. It meowed softly at you, kneading the soft pillow it was sitting on. “She’s only been here a week, that one. She was left at our door in the middle of the night with her siblings in a box. The others have all found homes, she’s the only one left now.”

“Aww, that’s sad. At least they weren’t left on the side of the road or something,” you murmured. Wooyoung nodded.

“Yeah, I’m glad we could find them all good homes.” You heard quiet murmuring from behind you, the employee Yunho talking to his customer. Wooyoung gave a hum. “If you had to name her, what name would you give?”

You thought for a second, looking back into her big blue eyes. You swore you could see stars in her eyes, a hint of a pink galaxy, and one word came to mind. You smiled softly.

“Byeol.”

Your eyes widened, turning around to the other person who had uttered the word. Your focus landed on the other customer, his expression full of shock just like yours. At the same time you both looked down at your wrists, and with a quiet gasp you noticed that your soulmate tattoo was now red. This was him. This was your soulmate. After years of searching, you had finally found him.

You locked eyes with him, taking in his features as he did the same with you. His eyes reminded you of a cat’s, and at the corners of his excited smile were two adorable little dimples that you couldn’t look away from. His hair was pink, and you wondered if that had been the pink you had seen reflected in the kitten’s eyes earlier. You never thought you’d find someone who could rock pink hair so well, and it seemed you were proven wrong in the best way.

“Hi,” he breathed, smile growing, turning his eyes into cute little crescents. It was an absolutely adorable sight, your heart doing a little flip at it. You were sure your cheeks were a light pink, matching his, and you barely registered the fact that Wooyoung and Yunho were quietly squealing to themselves while watching the two of you.

“Hi,” you replied, cheeks hurting from how hard you were smiling. “So, Byeol, huh?”

The male grinned, chuckling lightly as he looked over at the kitten. “Yeah, I swear I saw stars in her eyes.”

“Me too…” You faded off, and the male sheepishly scratched at his neck.

“Sorry. San, my name is Choi San.” He held his hand out to you, and you spotted the red tattoo on his inner wrist. Byeol. You smiled again, taking his hand, noting how small and soft it was, and how perfectly yours fit in it.

You gave him your name, his eyes lighting up. “What a pretty name,” he murmured, cheeks flushing at realizing he said that out loud. You laughed, finding his behavior sweet, warmth blooming in your chest at knowing you’d probably get along with San just fine. He cleared his throat, motioning to the kitten. “Since you’re adopting her, I am demanding visiting rights.”

Amused, you fought down another smile, raising an eyebrow. “Oh? Demanding visiting rights?”

“That’s correct. I’ve had my eye on that little baby since yesterday, but it seems you unfortunately beat me to adopting her. So, therefore, I am demanding visiting rights.”

You gave a thoughtful hum, pretending to think over the decision. You could see San trying to fight down a smile as well, loving how you were playing along. You tapped your chin in thought. “Hm, I think I can allow that. How does Thursday sound?”

“Perfect,” he answered. He pulled out his phone, holding it out to you. “I’m going to need your contact information to know where the visiting rights will be held, and how to get ahold of you for said visits.”

You held out your phone for him to take as you took his. “Of course.” The both of you exchanged contact information, handing each other back your phones, and you couldn’t fight off the smile any more. “San, it’s been an absolute pleasure meeting you.”

“It really has been. I’m so glad I decided to wait until today to come back for Byeol.” He offered you a shy smile. “I’ll… text you later, then…?”

“Please, any time you want.” Your fingers traced over your tattoo. “I’ll see you Thursday the, Mister Choi. With Byeol in tow, of course.”

He laughed, the sound like music to your ears, and you decided you wanted to spend the rest of your life listening to it. He rubbed at his neck again, your eyes flickering over and spotting the smattering of freckles along his skin. Everything about him was so cute. “Alright then. I’ll see you Thursday.” San gave you a little wave as he left the room, and you waved back, watching him leave until he was out of sight. As you gave a happy sigh, the two employees beside you gave quiet squeals.

“Oh my god we must be matchmakers, I have never seen two soulmates meet before in my life!”

“That was so cute, I wanted to scream! You two are so cute!” You blushed at their words, ducking your head as you gave a shy laugh, thanking them. Wooyoung cooed over the moment a little longer before finally moving on to the adoption process for Byeol.

As you walked out the store with your new little friend, you found yourself smiling as you looked at the notification on your phone.

Sannie Hey~

Sannie Be careful with the little star now! She’s our fragile little baby after all!

You shook your head with a laugh.

You couldn’t wait until Thursday came around.

A/N: heeey! Don't worry, I'm still working on Guardians! It's just longer than I expected it to be, and motivation to write has been a little low lately. But! Here's my first tumblr post! Hope it was alright, please leave some feedback if you liked it!

Thank you, have a good night/day everyone! ♡

#choi san x reader #choi san #san x reader #ateez x reader #choi san scenarios #ateez san #ateez scenarios #koikoi works #choi san fluff

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