SOULMATE MEME

[4896apexiscrystals]

soulmate meme ;
▸ post your character ◂
▸ you're now in a universe where destined soul mates exist! ◂
▸ rng for the type of au and for the ~situation~ ◂
▸ tag around ♥ ◂

type of au;
1. tats, your character has a tattoo of the first words the love of their life will say to them
2. familiars, your character has an animal tattoo representing their soul mate on them
3. glow, the first time your character sees their soul mate, their chests glow!
4. world in color, life is literally black and white, until you see your soul mate for the first time
5. choose your own, i'm definitely missing a milly because i'm lazy, pick your own

situation;
1. first meeting, you've never met this person before.
2. childhood mates, you've always known this person -- but on one particular birthday, everything changes.
3. together, you've been in a relationship for awhile now! happily wed or not, you decide.
4. not together, you've known you're soul mates for a long time, and yet have avoided a relationship.
5. choose your own, self explanatory c:

Comments

Varian/Khadgar - miri

[4896apexiscrystals]

When Khadgar had been growing up in Dalaran, he had heard the stories that came with soulmates and the promise of color. More than once he had stared at himself shirtless in the mirror, wondering if it was normal to have two tattoos entwined across his breast bone. Atracing the tip of his finger over the delicate lines that made up the wild lion-like wolf on his chest and straight into the snout of the other regal - normal looking, compared to the other - wolf. They adorned him with no hint of shame and often mused over what sort of person both would be.

Every time the story of the person had been different, them both being a kind-eyed warrior who was grizzled from the years of battles or a druid with a large heart ready to welcome him with open arms and a strong maiden with a wolfish smile so catching that no one could deny her. They were not the truth as of yet, but they were all potentially his. The sky was his limit and his imagination ran with it, there were so many possibilities that could come to pass and the curious, eager mage that he was had always run with it. And why wouldn't he? He had not one person, but two.

The first time another person sees it, they gawk unabashed at his bare chest and then run off to apparently share it with all of Dalaran. Some regard him with jealousy for having what seemed to be a greedy soul and tell him that people like him are why some are born without ever knowing what the blue sky really looked like. Others regarded him like he was lucky, blessed by the Light to have twice the happiness waiting somewhere for him. He quickly turns himself towards his studies and sneaking through things to distance himself from the whispers. For the first time in his life, he found shame within the long, elegant sweeps of black on his chest and does not know what truly to do with it. He swallows it and wishes, not for the last time, that what was printed on his chest was something much different.

At seventeen, he met Medivh and given no true information about the man he was to learn from. He had learn nothing about him prior to when he arrived, all books about the man were either missing or gone. He just knew that he was important – an honor that he had been sent to Karazhan to study under him. He had been perplexed by it, really. Medivh had shocked him, with his dark hair, piercing green gaze and the way he commanded his loyalty like it was his due from the start. Khadgar had not fallen instantly, but he finds himself swiftly brisked into the deep waters with no way to truly gain any traction.

Perhaps he had been doomed from the start. With each and every little piece of information he gathers, is let in and even thrown across the extravagant library of Karazhan, it is just a little more damning. The mercurial moods had put him off at first, he now craved to see where each flash of delight or anger lead them. And then there the way the man had looked so concerned at his state after the orcs – how his hand had rested against him to keep him standing... there was nothing quite like the quiet worried tones for him to rest and take it easy.

Once he realized how far he had gone diving under those initial waves... it was overwhelming for him. He had only heard of the love he felt for the Guardian in stories of people meeting their soulmates, before then. But Medivh had taken over his thoughts and left him staring longingly after him whenever he left a room.

He hated that there was no color in his world, that Medivh was not the one who he had been matched too and he had wished more than once that he could change it and defy everything.

Lothar had told him something that had his heart aching, the day where his master had wasted too much energy and was in need of a 'nap'. There was no one in the world for Medivh, no mark over his heart and Khadgar knew he would stay there as long as he could. He would not abandon the Magus for any soulmate-- he would pick the dark haired mage over them.

Some nights, he dreamt of a world where the wolves inked delicately on his chest had morphed into a raven, it's swooping wings stretching over against the other breast bone. He always woke up guilty those nights, sweat dampening his temples and forcing him to shiver from the cooling liquid. It had been a truly selfish want for the wolves to disappear off his chest so he could love without the shame creeping up the nape of his neck. Would he love both of his soulmates as much as he had Medivh? Would he even be able to approach them when the Magus controlled so much of his heart already? Was it all moot because of that? He'd obviously find himself comparing them to him and undoubtedly find himself alone.

When Khadgar saw color (at least a partially desaturated version of it) for the first time, it had been in Stormwind, standing slightly behind and to the left of Lothar, mere days after the death of Medivh. He knows who it is almost immediately as he meets the blue eyes of the fourteen year old prince. Varian, only a few years younger than him, already showing signs that he would grow to be a bit taller than him. Khadgar rips his eyes off of the other and focuses instead on the floor, ignoring the prickling that told him tears were beginning to form.

Hadn't he only a few weeks ago wished he didn't have two? His chest hurt and allowed his eyes to close before he decided to simply flee from his place next to Anduin.

He is not fit for would-be king, he looked old enough to be his grandfather -- perhaps a stab from Sargeras. Who would want him now -- he couldn't even reach for the arcane to control at this point. He was... useless. Old and useless. Khadgar works his jaw and waits for Lothar to be done with King Llane before excusing himself to the inn room he had booked for himself.

The moment the door is shut Khadgar crumpled to the floor, joints protesting as he buried his face in his hands and forced himself to breathe in and out slowly. There wasn't anything particularly attractive on him, so he was sure to be a disappointment.

The next time Khadgar sees Varian is after Garona murders Llane and Stormwind falls. The young prince was near unresponsive and Khadgar could not but help during days of rest settle closer to the other and try to offer some silent support. He could allow it, he told himself, Varian had lost everything.

Perhaps that was a bad idea in the long run, Khadgar found as he found himself playing cat and mouse with Prince Varian in the whole of Lordaeron, whenever Khadgar managed to be there at least. The prince was relentless in his hunt, tracking him with the expertise of a hunter thrice his age. No matter where he hid, the younger teen found him and over the next few years - well, the prince had grown more bold with his age. More than once he found himself frozen in place and had the slightly taller teenager simply pressed close and others had the promise of lips and teeth dangled in front of him.

[4896apexiscrystals]

He always tried excuses those days, told him there were more important things that needed to be done, but whether or not Varian listened to the mage was up to his whimsy. More often than not, Khadgar found quiet surrender was the only way to be eventually released from the other's grip. Some times, he managed to let his feelings on his appearance go enough to even enjoy it. Just rest his head into the crook of his neck and close his eyes.

Khadgar could understand the need Varian probably felt, the last thing that could be considered hid and the need to make sure the orcs hadn't taken another thing away from him. Some days, he felt that weight, knew the want to simply return to a comfort.

That's why he stops hiding so hard from the newly minted seventeen year old and allows the prince to hold onto him with no excuses or much fuss, as long as he was not truly doing something that needed his attention. Yes, of course there were days where teeth would actually graze an ear or Khadgar would press a careful kiss to the others neck, days where when Khadgar was alone and regretting it, despite being the one who was very adamant on stopping before something more than that comfort happened. He was sure Varian cursed him just as much as Khadgar cursed himself for imposing such a thing.

It would be called Nethergarde Keep, Khadgar had quietly thought thought to himself in a meeting on the funding on the much-needed outpost to watch the Dark Portal.

However, the Archmage had not expected color to saturate even more as he scanned the men gathered. It had shocked him for a few seconds, making his breath stop for a second before he reigned himself in. There was something more important at hand, so he did nothing more than lock eyes with Varian and raise a brow at him. He received a nod back, which he assumed meant it happened for both of them. Looking for those he knew, to make the pool of suspects smaller and rule them out as the reason he could finally understand what the color blue truly was.

The young-old Archmage had spent the rest of the meeting with his heart thundering in his ears as he fought the urge to leave the meeting and drag the Prince out to be the one to push him up against a wall and inspect him in this brighter hue. He knew he couldn't, Varian would be busy and he would need to focus on the task he would have in hand.

He had spent hours after the meeting staring at the sky and wondering if Medivh had known the deep blue littered with white pinpricks of light in the sky. He sat on a hill as the excitement of knowing who his soulmate could be died down and was replaced with realism. They would be so disappointed when they saw him, they would undoubtedly be vaguely concerned when he told them his age. He would be rejected for it, be concluded. He was only twenty-two and his body was of a man thrice his age. Who would truly want that? Beyond the needing prince who sought him for comfort in the war, of course.

It didn't matter in the end. Before the year was out, Khadgar was trapped in Draenor and everything was in grey-tones once more, no saturation of any kind got him. He had reacted badly to it. Dealing with a sharp pain beneath the wolf tattooed on his skin, while trying to muscle through the bitter feelings that had begun to form. It didn't help him that right before him there was a pair of soulmates, still seeing the color of the world and one refused to allow herself it.

Khadgar had snapped at Alleria, using biting words to tell her how much he hated watching the dance and the reason why he held such animosity for the view. He was trapped there, unknowing of who his other soulmate was and left the one he knew behind to find a new way to cope. That he would never get a chance like the one she was so carelessly trying to throw away in fear.

They didn't talk about his explosive response ever again after Khadgar apologized and they found their place in the new world.

He found things to occupy him until the portal was reopened and there was a way to return to Azeroth. He didn't until he was called on by the Kirin Tor. Color exploded -- full color, true color in his vision the moment he had set a foot down, he had to close his eyes and take a sharp breath to calm himself.

Something had happened, he could tell as the colors previous to that had not been this intense and bright. He shook for a few seconds and forces himself to move on. Later, he found himself trembling from the knowledge that Varian and the other were still out there and would be seeing the colors like he had for the first time in their lives. Slumping against a wall, he rubbed at his wet eyes and tried to ignore the hope that bubbled into his chest at the prospect of return to Varian and whomever finally.

Instead of taking the chance to find them, Khadgar returned to the Outland when he was finished with his business and pretended that it was for the best. Only after he steps through the portal and see the scraps of land that were awaiting him, that he decides that he was wrong and needs to go back.

He doesn't hesitate any more.

He finds himself in an inn that looked somewhat familiar in style as the one he had last spent in Stormwind and wonders how long he had before there were guards searching for him and the humming buzz Atiesh gives in his hands makes him laugh gently. What's the worst that could happen?

That night, Khadgar looks himself in the mirror and wondered what Varian would think of him with such a white mass on his face. Without a second thought he shaves it, rubbing his thumb across the cut of a jaw he hadn't seen in years. He has a new set of robes sent for and when those are done, surprisingly fast - he was delighted that they took such a request from a raven even, as if it was not the weirdest thing they've seen in a long shot - and exactly to detail.

He enjoys everything he's shown – the tram and the remains of where the old park had been destroyed. He finds himself directing the heroes of the world - some he knew even from their visits to Shattrath, to how they could fight the new orcs invading their world.

In between these gleeful moments of reacquainting himself with Stormwind, he gleans information on who has died and who remained from that meeting so long ago, from that he narrows it down. He spends nights in the various Libraries all over Stormwind, his neck getting a crick that ached pleasantly in the reminder that he would at least know who he could've – and it will always be a could've – found himself with in another life. It wasn't a smart idea, he remembers Cordana telling him, putting a blanket over his shoulders as she woke him enough to drink some warmed milk before he could settle back down against the wet papers that had been beneath his cheek. It was opening him up to the idea that he could still have such a thing, that the thirty years and the rare spurts of time where color filled their world could have just made them bitter and unwilling to meet him. Khadgar doesn't particularly remember what he said, only that she sighed something about insufferable mages and left him to return to his study.

At one point, he sees Varian himself, strolling through the Dwarven District - closest to the keep and cannot help but wait to see if the now king would recognize him after the years apart. He has his back turned to Varian for only a few seconds before he feels the other's gaze on his back. Slowly, he turns, waving at the other and smiling cheekily as he moved to turn into an alley and turn into a raven. He doesn't stay to see if Varian ran after him, instead he returns back to the Inn in Old Town and moves instead to the one in Goldshire.

He figures out who his other soulmate is when he returns to Stormwind from Goldshire to offer his aid in pushing back the Iron Horde, orcs for the second time in his life.

He doesn't actually fully figure it out until he is sidestepping a Horde rogue who danced their way into the keep to attempt murder upon the king of Stormwind. He smiles gravely, a difference to the more jovial one he had when he fled from the king in a tease of how much harder it was to catch him, and holds the greatstaff in his grip tight.

To the right of Varian he finds a blond boy dressed in blues, purples and golds. The beginning of a pony tail tied back at the nape of his neck flickers as the young holds himself in a defiant way thst denoted who he was. Varian's son, a boy who showed his upbringing well and surmises very easily that the boy is not a warrior or a paladin, a caster - though of holy or arcane is beyond him. He glowed, almost and Khadgar felt the urge to protect that light for another reason completely.

That boy was to be the finest leader Azeroth has ever seen. He smiles a little honestly at the proud boy and it hurts to turn his eyes to the one standing directly to the left.

Though it had been a long time, Khadgar would never forget such an expression in all his life. He remembered the complaining and how his hair had been much less... grey the last time he had seen it. He takes stock in Genn Greymane, the dark left of the king to the brightest light Khadgar had ever seen. He was alive, which surprised him slightly. The King of Gilneas had been in his sixties, if he recalled correctly, he would be well into his eighties at this point. He caught the other's considering look and offered him a polite nod back.

It was then that the intruder took his chance to rush passed the Archmage and had him slightly off balance, when he caught himself Genn Greymane was gone and instead, there was a grey wolf-man wetting his claws with the rogues blood. It was not a pretty sight and when the wolf reared his head back... Khadgar paused. He raised his brow as the other scented the air for any others that may have followed him. When it was deemed fine... well, the wolf flicked droplets of blood back towards the corpse and returned to a more familiar sight.

A shrewd King, who had only been able to see the small picture at the time. His people were above everything else and any other time Khadgar would have found it admirable. But now he knew that the second wolf's head stood for the cursed king. Well, that made quite a bit of sense, he thought. The ache formed just behind his breastbone as he plays his blatant staring off as never seeing a Worgen himself, keeping keeping a straight face. Saying nothing to acknowledge the urge that was building in the base of his spine that screamed for him to go to his soulmates and throw everything else away.

However... it was a hard sell for him to bleep his face straight as Greymane was a complete and utter asshole, but he was his second soulmate.

He wasn't sure how to feel about that, mentally cursing Cordana for being right that it was probably better that he hadn't known who the second one was.

There was no time for him to even think of what the situation could mean for him – for the any of them, even. Not with the orcs knocking at Azeroth's door for a second time - and they were even more organized than previously.

Perhaps he dictated to the King of Stormwind that he would go into the portal to close the breech with others and remain there to offer his guidance and yes he could see the blatant displeasure with him mounting. But he smiled wryly at the king and promised to send for others when the heroes of Azeroth when he was able. The Archmage couldn't help it as he winked at the king and left the thrones room as a raven.

Of course, Khadgar was no stranger to the cost of peace (as he currently viewed being unable to see in color as one, except in short bursts of halt saturation. Though he never knew which half was visiting Draenor.) and could only sigh at what he found in Draenor. It was so different than the world he visited so many years ago - so lush, so green and there were no red skies. It was breath taking.

He makes his tower in Talador and begins to focus on the aid he promised he would provide to the forces of Azeroth to prevail.

More than once, Cordana had called him distracted when he found himself looking in the direction of Tanaan, of the Dark Portal – of Azeroth. She had pitied him sometimes when he did not snap out of it right away, simply setting a hand upon his shoulder and telling him that he should return inside instead of out in the open.

Many times, Khadgar made his mistakes - like asking the Champions for an obscene amount of Apexis crystals, assault at moving train and more than once almost killing them and expecting them to react well... but at least he had at plan. It would cone together, of course.

Eventually.

At least it was going fine up until he annoyed Gul'dan into doing exactly what he wanted. Sadly, it was at an inopportune time as his world was half saturated and Khadgar swore in every language he knew while he wheezed his pain and told Cordana to stitch him up fast and administer some form of antivemom - he had some alchemists do it just in case of an emergency.

He heard a crash from his tower, staring blankly at the unhappy Champion and the smashed vial laying directly in front of her. The woman sneered, scowling an, "oops," out before hearthing.

Astonished, he turned his head to Cordana who had paused her check over the wound to look at him from behind her armor expectantly, "really?" He sighed, closing his eyes once more and focusing on his breathing. "That was the last one."

"You're probably going to die from your own stupidity, Khadgar," Cordana tells him flatly as she sends Champions off alive, smacking Khadgar upside the back of his head when he reminded them to bring Garona back alive.

"If I were to die from anything less than my own stupidity, I would find myself disappointing my dead friends."

"You're going pale," she informed him bluntly before picking him up with little issue to her him at least inside the tower. "Where's your servant?"

"I had given him a vacation after he had delivered so many summons to the Champions and I believe I may not even be able to conjure anything else." Khadgar said, allowing his forehead to press against a shoulder pad as a dizziness took him.

The last thing he heard before passing out was Cordana swearing at him in Darnassian.

The next thing he knew, Khadgar was very aware that he was not in his tower any longer and he felt only mildly sick instead of half dead. Stitches, he recognizes, sliding his hand over the bandages and began to push himself up and off of the cot he was stuck on to find out exactly where he was taken.