#i love writing soulmate au

[leorawright]

Hiiii first ever ask bc I just got into TF2. If u aren't too busy w requests could I ask for either a Soldier x Reader soulmate au or Mercs with an s/o who is a history nerd (I've been kinda considering the idea rn bc I am in fact a history nerd but also I love Soldier who has... a certain view of history)

Thank u for what u do have a nice day!

Soulmate AU! (Sorry, this too so long, I'm a mess of a human being)

Prompt: Your internal voice is the voice of your soulmate’s, rather than your own.

Soldier Soulmate AU

Having Soldier's voice as your inner monologue was... overwhelming, more often than not

It was constant yelling and loud tones, rarely anything quiet, and it was awful on the mornings you woke up with a migraine already

Soldier, on the other hand, relished in having your voice in his head

While it wasn't exactly the voice of an angel (like his lol) it was... comforting in a way he wouldn't admit

Perks for you though, at least you'll know pretty quickly when you meet your soulmate

And meet Soldier you did and believe it or not, he was practically yelling despite having a normal conversation

You had to be the one to start the conversation because he wouldn't have noticed your voice over the volume of his own

But when he did, for once in his life, he was quiet for a moment

After that moment, he immediately snapped back into Soldier mode and heartily greeted you

His smile was just as crazy as usual, but a little more genuine now that he was finally meeting the voice of his soulmate that he pretended to have conversations with late at night in his mind

[karalovesallthegirls]

Kara has always dreaded the day she’d meet her soulmate. 

There’s relief in knowing she has one, of course. The person meant for her didn’t die with Krypton. That’s something! Even still, it’s hard to feel excited for the moment they meet, because that’s the moment Kara will hurt them. She’s had their exclamation of pain inked into her skin for as long as she’s been on Earth. In some ways it’s better. Most people have phrases like “good morning” or “hold the door please” as their soulmate’s first words. They have to endure hundreds of almosts, breath held just in case that stranger really is the one. Kara won’t have to do that. Her words are far too distinct.

It's agony, thinking about how their meeting will go. She spends years imagining every possible scenario, each one more painful than the last, yet the day it happens she barely even registers it. The words wash right over her, drowned out by the loud crack as her hand makes sudden contact with a stranger's face. The telltale crunch of contact shocks her. She hadn't registered anyone was there during her dramatic retelling, otherwise she would have kept her gestures small. She wouldn't have flung her hand out with such force.

The woman she's hit is hunched over, clutching at her face. She gasped loud and sharp when it hit, and now she's just wheezily breathing in shock. Kara can see blood starting to drip down her wrist.

“Did you," the woman gasps, and her voice sounds wet. "Did you just break my nose?” Kara wants to die.

“I’m so sorry! Are you okay? I am so sorry!”

People are looking at them and the woman keeps cursing under her breath and Kara really, really doesn’t know what to do. Her hands hover uselessly over the hunched figure, desperate to soothe but scared to touch in a moment like this. “I didn’t mean to – I was telling a story and I got too excited with my hands I guess, I didn’t see you there. Are you- can I-”

She looks to Alex for guidance, but she’s just staring at the interaction with a wide-eyed wonder. Typically her sister knows what to do in a scary situation, but now she’s looking just as clueless. They’re both barely awake at this point – it’s six in the morning and they’ve been at this airport terminal since midnight, miserably watching their red eye flight push into a mid-day departure. They’re both half-delirious, which is fun when you’re goofing off but less so when you’ve just broken a stranger’s nose. 

And then it hits her. The words she’s carried on her arm for so many years are tingling, she realizes, and they’ve been tingling from the second her skin met the girl’s. 

Did you did you just break my nose?

“Oh wow,” Kara says, dumbfounded. “It’s you.” The woman falls silent. She must be realizing too Kara thinks as she fumbles with her sleeve, pushing it up enough to show her inked arm. The woman's eyes drop to the tattoo that's brought such shame to Kara for so long. She feels her eyes like a touch. “I – I’m so happy to meet you! I’m so sorry it happened like this.” She laughs and it sounds strained. Her hands are shaking. The woman doesn't look up from her arm.

Even hunched over in pain, it's clear the woman is beautiful. Important, even, considering how she's dressed. She's dressed like she's en route to lead a business conference, her tight black skirt and matching blazer scream business professional. Though the effects are tampered a bit by the splattering of blood that’s dripped down her white blouse. Kara wonders how old she is to be dressed like that. She must be older to look like that. At nearly nineteen, Kara has never had anything more than a graduation to dress nicely for, and even then she wore her stained dress pants. This woman - her soulmate - must be much older than her, which feels strange to think. She looks Kara's age, maybe even younger. If not for how clearly tailored to her body her clothes are, she'd almost look like she was playing dress up.

Kara feels self-conscious then, sharply aware of how she must look to her soulmate. As smart as it felt to come to the airport in pajamas for her all-night flight, standing in rubber duck pajama pants while trying to have a conversation with her goddess of a soulmate did little for Kara's confidence.

When Kara’s eyes finally track back up to her face, she finds sharp green ones staring back. They're the prettiest eyes she's ever seen, and they don't seem interested in looking away. That's fine with her - she's more than content to stare right back.

It's only the soft plop of blood hitting tile that draws her attention back to her crime, and she can see the way the woman's hands have become covered in blood. "Oh gosh, here - let me…”  Kara fumbles in her backpack for a moment with no clear plan. All she knows is she has to do something to fix this. She fumbles about before pulling out a clean t-shirt. “Here. For the-” She holds it out to the girl and gestures at her own face. Slowly, like she’s scared Kara might grab her or something, the woman takes the offered shirt. She wipes the blood from her face and hands, dabbing beneath her nose. The bleeding seems to have stopped, at least, and the shirt helps contain what's escaped. Watching a stranger wipe blood on her high school band t-shirt shouldn’t thrill Kara as much as it does, and yet.

Kara laughs again, the sound nervous and high-pitched, before taking a step towards her. Her soulmate’s eyes go wide, tracking her movements, and Kara's heart clenches when she steps away. The rapid race of her soulmate's heart beats into Kara's ear - she can literally hear her fear. She holds her hands up in surrender, stepping back to where she’d been before. The last thing she wants is for her to be afraid. “Does it hurt?” she asks, and her soulmate shakes her head no. “That’s good. That’s good. I- uh." She has nothing more to say, and her soulmate's certainly not contributing. Kara’s palms are sweating. She hasn’t sweat since she was thirteen, but one look from this person has her rubbing her hands on her pajama pants like a middle schooler at a dance.

The woman finishes wiping up and lets her arms fall, blessing Kara with her first real look at her face. Bloodied and skittish, she’s beautiful in a way Kara can hardly comprehend, in a way she could never imagine. Kara's pretty sure she's blushing now for some reason, and she has to flex her toes to be sure she’s still touching the ground. “My name’s Kara,” she says, and then gestures over her shoulder. “That’s my sister Alex. We’re flying home for winter break. Midvale - Midvale is home for us. Where- where are you flying to?”

The woman stares and stares, and Kara's starting to panic thinking she'd given her soulmate a head injury that's muted her somehow, when at last the woman speaks just barely above a whisper.

“Home,” she says. It feels like her heart might burst just from hearing that one stilted word. Kara wants to hear a thousand more, wants to hear nothing else for the rest of her life.

“That’s awesome. W-where’s home for you?” The woman's lip trembles as she opens her mouth, closes it, and then opens it again.

 “I’m sorry,” she says, and then throws the t-shirt at Kara’s face. 

Kara fumbles catching it, distracted by the shock and gross factor of having a blood-soaked shirt hurled at her face, and it takes her far too many precious seconds to realize her soulmate is gone. Bewildered, Kara looks around before just catching sight of her vanishing around the corner, high heels and racing heart clattering away. She looks at Alex. Alex waves at her, frantic. “Go!” Alex yells, and Kara takes off.

Pretending to be a human has never been harder than it is while chasing after her soulmate. Normal human pace - especially what's acceptable at an airport - is not fast enough for this, not when the woman has already gotten so far ahead. Kara must look ridiculous, bursting into sprints only to trip suddenly into a walk over and over again, her ears locked on to the thudding heartbeat and faint whispers of her soulmate mumbling, “crap crap crap crap,” ahead.

Kara’s thankful they’re in an airport, at least. Her soulmate can’t just run outside, and Kara is fine embracing the romcom trope of following her love onto the plane. Her soulmate stops moving ahead and Kara speeds up, nearly wiping out twice tripping over luggage and small children. Her heart is in her throat as she clears the corner her soulmate is behind and pushes her way into the door she's passed through. All the wind knocks out of her lungs then when she sees her again. The woman looks up at her in shock, as if she didn't think Kara would chase her. As if Kara would just let her go. With a visible gulp, her soulmate flees around a corner and disappears out of sight. Kara manages a single step forward before a body blocks her way, and she looks up to see a massive security guard staring down at her.

“Membership card, please.”

Kara tries to peer around him. He steps in her way, cutting her vision off. Her soulmate led her into some private place you can't just walk into, she realizes, glancing around at the sleek appearance and exclusive atmosphere. “I- uh, left my card in my other bag,” she says, gesturing back over her shoulder. She can hear her soulmate’s breathing and it's all she can focus on. She’s right there. Just out of sight. Kara is so close. “I’m afraid you need your card to enter the fly lounge,” he says sternly. He starts pushing gently at her, trying to nudge her back out of the sliding glass door she’s come in. Kara almost forgets to let him move her. “I- I’m sorry, someone I need to talk to just went in there and I-” She stops in the doorway, hand firm on the wall. She can hear the way the guard huffs against her solid pressure. She’s not acting very human right now and she knows it.

“I’m gonna have to ask you to leave, ma’am," he says, pushing more forcefully against her. Forceful enough that she knows she has to move even as all her instincts war against it. “Can- can I buy a membership? Like a day pass or something?”

The guard looks over at the front desk, making eye contact with a woman who looks like she would rather watch Kara be flayed alive than allowed another step inside.

“A day membership is $189 plus tax,” she whines out in a nasally voice, tone making clear she already knows Kara won’t be affording that. Which is accurate. Kara barely has enough to buy a meal. 

Looks like her soulmate is rich, then.

The man nudges her back again and a flash of panic echoes through her chest. For a moment, she envisions herself throwing him out the open door, tossing aside anything or anyone that tries to keep her from her future. But she’s already scared her soulmate enough for one day, so she smiles with forced bashfulness and allows herself to be walked back out of the lounge.

The frosted glass door marked High Flyers Club Lounge shuts her out mockingly. But it’s fine! Eventually her soulmate’s flight time will be here and she’ll have no choice but to come out and face her. Kara just has to be patient. (Kara hates being patient.)

She takes a seat against the wall across from the lounge entrance. Her glasses rest low on her nose as she stares her soulmate, soaking in every inch of her as she paces in the luxurious lounge. Her heart is racing, she seems on the edge of a panic attack, and Kara wants desperately to be in there with her talking her down. But she can’t, so she’s left to watch – at least until the girl steps into the private restroom. She stops watching after that. Instead, she settles down to listen to the comforting beat of her soulmate’s heart, closer now than it’s ever been.

Her mind wanders as she waits, mentally reviewing every moment of their interaction. Considering where she failed, where she succeeded. Making lists about what to say to her next. She never got her name, for one thing, and she still doesn’t know where her home is. There’s so much for her to learn.

Her mental meandering is so consuming that it takes her a bit to realize the heartbeat has moved farther away. At first she thinks her soulmate is just moving around the club, but no- she’s moving away from the airport.  A quick glance through walls shows her that her soulmate isn’t in the club anymore. The heartbeat is elevating, she realizes, and Kara runs to the glass wall just in time to see the plane - small, private, with an apparent access point from within the lounge – take off. 

Horror and confusion overwhelm her, bringing tears to her eyes. This doesn't make sense. Why would she just leave without saying a word? Why would her soulmate do that? It's almost unbearable, the pain of it. She doesn’t know how long she stands there, face pressed to the glass, listening as the heartbeat grows quieter and quieter before vanishing all together.

Kara learns a lot about grief after that. 

She knew a lot already – far more than any one person should ever know – but that grief carried a different weight. The loss of her people wasn't a choice by them. They didn't want to die. The loss of her soulmate is its own beast, sharp and cruel in her heart, because this time the person she mourns chose to abandon her. Her soulmate chose to leave. She saw Kara that morning and decided that one look was enough, that Kara wasn't worth any more of her time. She left her there with nothing but a bloody t-shirt and a thousand questions. Kara never even learned her name.

She goes through the stages – she feels her anger burning out in her eyes, feels the sorrow take hold. She denies it, she bargains with everyone, anyone. She calls the Flyer’s Club, tries calling the FAA. She tracks flight logs and makes cold calls and still finds nothing at all. She writes about it on soulmate websites and Medium articles, casting a wide net so that someday when – if, her mind reminds her. if if if - her soulmate ever looks she’ll be able to find her.  

Time dulls the sharpness, though, and the years shift that rejected feeling into a more muted anger. Kara doesn't care about the love lost. She doesn't care if the person is her other half. All she cares about is the anger. Finding her feels more like a hunt than a quest for love – she’s got a lot to say to the other woman when they finally meet again. She just wants one more meeting, that’s all. Just enough time to tell her exactly where she can go. Kara doesn’t need a soulmate, after all. Her life is full of love and joy and adventure, and she doesn’t need another person to complete her. She graduates college with a degree in English, minor in Journalism – her attempts to track down her soulmate really ignite the journalistic bug in her, and with Clark’s constant encouragement it feels inevitable. She moves to a big city despite her small-town fears and she gets a job almost no one survives. Kara is thriving.

It almost shocks her, then, the way her heart trips over itself when she sees her again.

They’re watching the trial, her and Alex, and Alex is halfway through a lecture on how she’d always known Lex Luthor was evil by the way he wore his pants – (“Good guys don’t wear their pants that high, Kara, it’s common sense.”) – when Kara's nerves jolt like a lightning bolt has rushed through her. Her gasp is so sharp Alex screams almost in sympathy. 

“What? What is it?” Alex yells at her, looking around for some danger lurking nearby. Kara tumbles to the floor practically crawling to the television screen. Someone new has taken the stand, someone she'd recognize anywhere.

“Alex,” she says, jamming her finger against the somewhat grainy image projected on her television. “It's her.” “What!” “My soulmate!" Kara knows it like she knows herself, even after all this time. She looks different. Six years of struggle sit clear in her hard gaze, her mouth twisted into solemn resignation. She looks almost casual on the stand, sitting comfortably despite the eyes of the world on her. Like it's just a regular conversation. Like she’s not about to help send her brother to prison for life. “Lena Luthor, sister of the defendant” reads the helpful banner beneath her grim face. Even after everything, Kara is struck by her. She's breathtaking. Kara kind of hates her for it. “Hold on, that’s- you barely even saw her when you met! You don’t know for sure.” Alex sounds desperate, which is fair. The younger sister of the man who tried to kill Superman is certainly not an ideal soulmate for someone like Kara, but it doesn't matter. It's her. “I’m sure,” she says, and feels the truth of it deep in her bones.

A giggle hits her then that's so inappropriate for the moment it makes her feel crazy, but she can't help it. As Lena Luthor begins to explain the piles of evidence she’s gathered against her brother, Kara giggles away. She feels almost drunk on it, smug and satisfied. “Found you,” she says, almost like a taunt. She drags her finger over the screen, feeling the static of her ancient television biting back at her as she caresses Lena Luthor's face. The anger that’s long settled inside of her seems to reignite with every charged word Lena speaks against her brother, with every glance she makes at the camera. She can feel Alex’s nervous energy behind her but she doesn’t care. The politics of this, the implications - none of it matters to Kara. What matters is she has a name, and she has a general location. She's so close she can practically taste it. “See you soon, soulmate,” Kara whispers, and for a second it feels almost like Lena is staring right back.

[morphean42]

Don’t give me soulmates, give me ‘I’ll find you in every universe not because we are meant to be, but because I chose you over everyone else’. Give me ‘we were never supposed to meet, but I will never love anyone more than you’. Give me ‘the universe didn’t tell us we were destined to be lovers, but I decided to love you anyway’

There’s something inherently more romantic about choosing someone on purpose than just loving them because that’s what is supposed to happen

[metalhoops]

‘Of course, I remember you.’ 

As far as first words go, Eddie’s were a hell of a head-scratcher. 

To catch up the uninitiated, everyone in the world has a soulmate. It’s been debated and speculated if a person can have more than one, but the mechanics behind soulmates was a pseudo-science at best and downright magic at worst. The first words a person’s soulmate spoke to them were inscribed somewhere on that person’s body, typically in their soulmate’s handwriting. 

Doesn’t handwriting change over time? The uninitiated might ask, to which Eddie would repeat, it’s pseudo-science or magic. Either that or something like quantum mechanics, where people are pretty sure, one day we’ll understand how it works, but right now there are a lot of theories and only a little bit of evidence, most of which contradicts itself.

Most of the time, the words are boring and wholly unhelpful. He could count on two hands the number of people that simply had some variation of ‘hello’, tattooed somewhere on their body. From Eddie’s point of view, he got lucky. 

He had a sentence of scratchy scrawl written on his inner arm stating, ‘of course, I remember you’. And really, what the hell was Eddie meant to make of that? 

Typically, your tattoo lets you know you’d found your soulmate upon first meeting, but his words implied he’d meet his soulmate before they first speak and that it would be memorable. Wasn’t that goddamn frustrating? 

His soulmate’s first words were right up there with ‘hello’ in Eddie’s list of ‘top five worse soulmate marks,’ because how the hell were those poor bastards meant to know if they’d just met the love of their life or if it was just their weird neighbour Tom? With his number one spot reserved for Gareth’s truly horrific, ‘I’d thought you’d be taller’. His soulmate was original. He’d give him that. 

There was no surefire way to know your soulmate’s gender, same as there was no surefire way for a mother to ‘just know’ a baby’s gender before it was born. Yet if Eddie was being sacrilegious, as he so often was, he’d say he ‘just knew’ his soulmate was a guy. 

There was nothing in the handwriting that gave it away. Nothing particularly ‘feminine’ or ‘masculine’ about the lettering. But ever since Eddie was a kid whenever he thought about his soulmate, he’d always think of them as ‘him’. 

He would like this or that. He wouldn’t be an asshole, like the meathead jocks at Hawkins. He would be different. He’d be kind, caring, and of course, a total badass. Eddie just had to wait to meet him. 

Steve’s soulmate mark drove him crazy. 

‘You might not remember me’. 

What the hell was Steve meant to do with that? Soulmate tattoos were meant to let you know when you’d met your soulmate, not that you’d already met them. In the days before Steve received the shake-up of his life in the form of Nancy Wheeler and the Upside Down, he had a reputation for sleeping around. He knew back then he’d been a little hopeless, but surely he’d said more than a couple of words to a girl before he slept with them. 

It horrified Steve that he could meet his soulmate, in some respect, know them, and yet had never talked to them. Could he really be that much of a jerk?

He’d never thought Nancy was his soulmate. He knew their words didn’t match up. That didn’t mean he loved her any less. Statistically, the odds of meeting your soulmate were somewhere between getting crushed by a vending machine and winning the lottery. Steve’s parents weren’t soulmates and boy did that show, but a guy could dream. Call him a hopeless romantic, but Steve was holding out hope for them. 

He’d almost thought his soulmate was Robin. It fit, right? They went to the same school, but they’d never really talked. He’d been so busy with his first day at a real job, he’d missed Robin’s first words to him. It wasn’t until later he’d started to expect it might be her. That was, until the pair were huddled beside each other on the floor of a bathroom stall. Robin was a lesbian and her first words, although interesting, definitely proved they weren’t soulmates. 

When Steve was a kid, he’d spend hours daydreaming about what his soulmate would be like. She’d be outspoken. She’d be bold. She’d be able to make him laugh. When he’d gotten older, something changed. He didn’t know how to put it into words, at least not ones he was ready to say out loud. ‘She’ didn’t fit his soulmate quite right. So after high school, he started wondering what ‘they’ would be like. ‘They’ felt not quite right, but closer. 

Their handwriting was distinct. It was all sharp-edges and odd-angles. It looked like it was trying to replicate something Steve couldn’t quite place until he walked into the record store at Starcourt and caught a glimpse of an Iron Maiden album cover. That gave Steve his first real clue as to what his soulmate might be like. 

It would be another year before the same handwriting would stop him in his tracks. Dustin had marched into the Family Video store as they were shutting up shop, brandishing a notepad and talking about needing a ride to go play his fantasy game. Steve was always going to drive Dustin, but he’d been dragging his feet, to show the kid he wouldn’t always drop everything to take him places. A familiar sharp edged, odd angled handwriting stopped Steve cold. 

“What are those?” Steve asked, trying to fain disinterest as his heart pounded in his ears. 

“They’re notes from the last session. You know, so we can keep track of what’s happened so far in the campaign. Who’s doing what quests, how many hit points everyone’s got. Mike is currently—.” Steve couldn’t give a crap about Mike. 

“Who’s writing is it?” Steve tried not to sound as desperate as he felt. 

Robin must have known something was up because she moved to Steve’s side. With one glance at the notepad, she understood why Steve was acting so strangely. She’d seen his tattoo, she knew it was his soulmate’s handwriting. 

“Our D.M.’s” Dustin replied. He might as well have been speaking in freaking code. 

“Alright, I’ll drive you,” Steve gave in, hoping he could catch a glance of his soulmate. Maybe his tattoo was wrong, maybe he’d know his soulmate when he saw them. 

They pulled up outside of the high school. He saw a group of people loitering outside the auditorium. Dustin had brought a lot of loose sheets of paper, so it only made sense Steve helped him carry his notebooks in. Most of the people there were familiar faces, the kids he’d babysat with a few exceptions. 

“Well, if it isn’t our favourite bard. I’m glad you decided to grace us with your presence,” an oh-too-familiar voice crooned. A boy broke away from the crowd to meet Dustin. 

He was Steve’s age. They’d gone to school together. The dude used to do all these weird soap-box sessions on their lunch table. They had gym together, and history. Steve didn’t think the two had ever actually spoken.  

“I would’ve been here quicker if I hadn’t had to play twenty questions with Steve. Steve, you know Eddie, our D.M.? Weren’t you two in the same year?” 

Eddie was practically shooting daggers at Dustin’s side profile, shaking his head discreetly as though hoping Steve didn’t remember who he was. He supposed Eddie always had a reputation. 

“You might not remember me,” Eddie spoke before Steve could answer. 

Holy shit.

“Of course, I remember you,” Steve argued and watched as Eddie’s eyes swelled to the size of dinner plates. 

Both boys stood, slack-jawed and stiff-shouldered, peering at one another. Steve’s brain short-circuited, because holy shit, Eddie Munson was his soulmate. Holy shit he’d found them, him. 

Steve dropped Dustin’s notes and swarmed forward without thinking, throwing his arms around Eddie. Much to his surprise, instead of freaking out, like any normal person, Eddie was waiting to catch him, leaving both of them to tumble ass backwards onto the parking lot asphalt.

They held each other in a bone-crushing hug. Steve buried his face in Eddie’s neck, surprised at how naturally the action came. He’d never hugged a man like this, hell he’d hugged no one like this. He was clinging so desperately to the man that he’d never thought he’d really find. Eddie pulled back slightly, trying to get a better look at Steve’s face. The guy’s eyes were alight with wonder and mischief. 

“That was quite an entrance, Harrington. All for little old me?” 

“I’ve been looking for you forever,” Steve admitted. 

“Well, clearly you’ve been doing a shit job of it,” Eddie argued which earned a snort from Steve. His soulmate would be able to make him laugh. 

“You’re not disappointed, you know? That your soulmate is the town Freak?” 

Steve had given up on caring about labels, on caring about what other people thought. Since high school, he had changed. He was different.  He didn’t want to be just another, shallow, meathead jock. He wanted to be different. 

“No. Absolutely not. Why would I care?” 

Dustin shattered the moment, clearing his throat and proclaiming,

“Alright, anyone care to tell me what the hell just happened?” 

[strawberryspence]

There's a red string, strung and tied into a small bow on Steve's pinky finger. It never breaks, never fades. It stretches for miles and miles and miles. There's a shimmer in it when it hits the sunlight. It's beautiful, meaningful. His connection to his soulmate.

Steve's always been excited, always been curious as to who is on the other end of it. His mother has always told him to not follow it, that it may be dangerous, he could get lost.

He only tried following the string once. He was twelve, alone at the big house, with no parents and no friends. The string reminds him that there's a person on the other side of it, there's comfort in that. He follows it— follows, follows, follows— until he reaches the Hawkins Sign and sees the road ahead. The string still goes for ages, and it could go anywhere. He goes home to that dark, lonely house, and cries so hard the string vibrates in the dark.

When Steve finds the other end of his string, he thinks, its too late. The people around him— his parents, his friends, his peers— has already dictated who he was supposed to be. He finds the other end of it just at King Steve's peak. He finds it in between the fame and arrogance. He finds it, in the middle of the cafeteria, standing high on top of a table.

The string tightens, almost like it's pulling him to the other end. But as they stare at each other, from opposite sides of the cafeteria. Both having the realization that they are each other's soulmates and both knowing they can't do anything about it.

Steve tears his eyes away from him, tears his eyes away from Eddie Munson, tears his eyes away from his soulmate and continues back to his life. He continues as he learns that monsters exist, that there are kids being experimented on, that he can still change, that not everything is set in stone.

When the kids first mention the mysterious, eccentric, dungeon master that adopted them. The one with cool tattoos and long, frenzied hair. A name the kids cheered for in between the shelves of Family Video, that makes Steve's string glisten in anticipation. He thinks, maybe it's not too late.

And when Spring '86 finally comes around, and Steve watches as Dustin and Max scurry to find the man. Steve relents, his own concern and worry overflowing from the beams. He tells them to get in the car, as Robin closes up the store. They all silently watch as Steve follows his string.

"What are you doing here?" Eddie whispers, broke bottle held against Steve's neck.

The string between them shimmers in anticipation, its the closest they have ever been to each other. They can almost feel it vibrate in excitement.

"We're here to help." Steve answers back. He wishes— not for the first time— that he knows his soulmate. Knows what comforts him, knows what makes him feel better.

But as Eddie pulls away, finally calming down and telling them what truly happened. Steve thinks that his curiosity could wait till later. It's not too late. Not yet. Steve just has to help Eddie out of this.

"You want to talk about it?" Eddie asks, just after Steve thanks him for coming after him in the lake. Like Eddie would leave his own soulmate to drown and die in the underground world that just ate him.

"About what?" Steve asks. He knows what Eddie's asking, but he wants to be sure, doesn't want to step into boundaries.

Eddie raises his pinky, the string lifting with his hand, and it's fascinating as Steve sees his string being pulled this close by the other end.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Steve asks back, eyes wide.

"Do you?" Eddie challenges.

Steve is tired, and there's an ache in his body, maybe it's the bites or maybe it's the ache to be near Eddie. "Yes. I want to talk about it. But maybe not right now. Not here."

Eddie's taken aback for a second before he chuckles, "Yeah. Okay. We'll talk later."

"Later."

There's no later, not when they're just about to go to war with some evil wizard that can gauge their eyes from the inside. Just before it's time to go, just before it's time to go to war. Steve reminds Dustin and Eddie to be safe, to not be heroes. Steve turns because he needs to leave, if he doesn't do it right now, he's not sure if he'll ever go. Eddie calls him back.

"Steve."

Steve turns back. Only because it's Eddie and he'll always turn back for Eddie.

Eddie looks at him. Big brown eyes shining under the red sky. Eddie raises his pinky again, the ribbon tied on it tightens instinctively. There's a certain softness in his face; tender and hope mushed together.

"Stay alive."

Steve nods, raising his own pinky.

"Later."

Eddie nods, and they both turn from each other.

There's a moment. Just a sliver of it, where they think they won. If Steve has to describe it, he will say that it feels exactly like gasping for air after a long lap in the pool.

Steve realizes that they're wrong when the vibrant red of his string flickers to something duller. It's the first time it ever does that, and his heart drops. No.

"I told you not to be a hero!" Steve cries out, as Eddie's blood spills from everywhere.

"I know. I am sorry." Eddie smiles weakly at him.

"We got to move you. We got to—" When Steve moves him, Eddie moans in pain, tears spilling from his eyes. Steve steadies him again, doesn't move another inch to give his soulmate some kind of comfort. The pain of it goes straight into his ribs and into his chest.

"There's not gonna be a later. I am sorry, sweetheart." Eddie looks up at him, smiling softly as he cups Steve's face. "I am sorry I didn't talk to you earlier."

"I am sorry I didn't either." Steve sobs, clutching on Eddie's hand.

"We're soulmates." Eddie says. There finality in the statement, no room for questions and confusion. "We'll find each other again."

"No, Eddie." Steve shakes his head, stubborn as ever.

Eddie's hand slips off Steve's face, "See you soon, sweetheart."

Steve doesn't know what happens next. Nobody ever explained it to him. He thinks it's cruel that nobody ever prepares you for this moment. As he watches the once bright string finally die down, the shimmering turning into nothing. Slowly, but surely, disappearing. His only connection with his soulmate— with Eddie— forever gone.

The only thing that's left is a black string, tied on his pinky without its other half.

It's too late now.

-> my beautiful @undreaming-fanfiction's happier ending

[rainbowsuitcase]

I have this idea in my head for an IceMav AU where they had a thing years before Top Gun, some halfway serious relationship that was mostly about fucking and absolutely did not end on a good note. And now they're meeting again years later, both of them just giant balls of angst who miss each other so much but are also convinced the other hates them now.

But I don't really do feelings driven stuff well and I fear I wouldn't do the concept justice, so I'll just throw it out here for anyone to pick up if you want to (or to send me a link to the fic if something like this already exists!)

[bri-cheeses]

Fiercely and obsessively (wrapped around your finger) — Part 3

| Rosekiller Soulmate AU | Previous part is here | Word Count: 687 |

-

“Hey Reg, how come you’ve never shown us your soul mark?”

Barty’s question came out of the blue, causing Regulus to startle up from where he had been pouring over his essay. Evan laughed a little, presumably at his bewildered expression.

“I’m working, Crouch. I don’t have time to indulge your fancies. That’s Evan’s job, not mine.”

Next to him, Evan’s face deepened into a scowl.

“You’re horrible,” he said, which was kind of uncalled for. Regulus was a little bit right, was he not? Evan indulged him, he indulged Evan, and it was the perfect friendship. And who cared if it was maybe a little too codependent, at least they knew what the other meant to them.

“Knew that already,” Regulus responded breezily, then went back to reading over his writing with a bored expression. Evan rolled his eyes.

“You’re dodging the question,” he said.

And wait—he was right, wasn’t he? Regulus was trying to tiptoe around having to answer, and it was lucky Barty had Evan by his side, because he probably wouldn’t have picked up on that on his own.

Regulus’s eyes flicked up. Very deliberately, he explained, “I haven’t shown you my soulmate mark because it’s not very important in the grand scheme of things, and I don’t care much about it.”

“Ha, right,” Barty blurted, not able to stop himself from saying it. “I think that you actually care quite a bit, and are just worried that your soulmate won’t be who you want it to be.”

Regulus stilled.

“Who would I want it to be?” His voice was calm and controlled, but his left pinky twitched from where it was holding his quill.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Barty grinned. “How about a certain captain of the Gryffindor quidditch team?”

Regulus’s hand tightened on the quill. His other balled into a fist.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said stiffly. Which was a dead giveaway, really, considering Regulus always slipped into that tone of voice whenever he got defensive.

“Touchy, are we?” Barty’s voice was just a tad too gleeful, but really, it was way too much fun to get Regulus riled up. “Can’t imagine why.”

“You know,” Regulus snapped, “I’m not the only one here who gets touchy whenever the topic of soulmates comes up.”

There was a threat lurking behind Regulus’s words, but it was tangled up enough that it was difficult to figure out. Barty frowned.

“Me? I’m really not that sensitive about it, but—”

“Not you,” Regulus interrupted, and his eyes fell onto Evan. Barty turned to look.

“Leave me out of this,” Evan warned lowly. Barty’s eyes widened. Evan had never sounded so deadly before, but Barty wouldn’t lie and say that it wasn’t a little captivating to see.

“You brought yourself into this the second you pushed me into answering,” Regulus told him. They were staring each other down, not sparing a single glance for Barty and effectively leaving him on the outside of whatever private exchange was going on here. “How long is it until that little dream of yours is crushed? A week? Two weeks?”

Barty frowned. The only important thing coming up within that time frame was Evan and Pandora’s birthday, but that didn’t have anything to do with this.

“You don’t know that’s what will happen,” Evan said, voice strained. Regulus tilted his head.

“We’ll see. In the meantime, leave me alone about my soulmate mark. Sound good?” The eyebrow Regulus raised was cool and cutting, and it came as somewhat of surprise that Evan didn’t flinch away from it.

“Fine,” he said instead of doing just that. And finally, he turned his gaze on Barty. “I’m going back to the dorm,” he told him. His voice was startling toneless, and it was unnerving.

“Uh, sure,” Barty responded, absolutely and fundamentally bewildered. But Evan was gone before he could ask about whatever had just gone on here, so Barty was left to turn to Regulus.

“I’m sorry, what just happened?” he asked.

Regulus just shook his head.

“If you can’t figure that out,” he said, “then I can’t help you.”

-

(Part 4 is here)

[flowersdiceandlove]

Okay so soulmate AUs are one of my favorite troupes in fanfiction, but. But! I don’t like it when it comes to hualian.

Now hear me out! I’m not saying they’re not soulmates, I just don’t like the au troupe when it’s used in fanfiction about them. There’s just something about Xie Lian being so kind and caring to little Honghong-er just because. Everyone else was ready to throw that little boy out, but XL was like “no. You can’t do that. He’s just a little kid. Be nice.” He did that not because he had any sort of connection to the little boy, but just because it’s the right thing to do. It really showed XL’s character, his principles, and his kindness. Those were the reasons that HC fell in love with him.

I feel like if by putting them in a soulmate au where they’re soulmates that are tied together and have a predestined bond, that that takes away from XL’s choice to protect Honghong-er even if it caused problems. It becomes like “of course, XL would save him and fight so fiercely to protect him, they are soulmates after all.” Instead of Xie Lian doing it because that’s the type of person he is.

Soulmate aus are fun, and I really do love them, but for hualian, I just don’t. I love their choice in each other. I love that they chose to be tied by the red thread. Who knows, maybe they’ve been soulmates all along, but I love that they had no bonds or connections when they met and XL, despite all the bad stuff that happened around Honghong-er, chose to keep him safe and comfort him when he was upset.

[beanghostprincess]

Sanuso Soulmate AU in which everyone has a bracelet painted around their wrist like some sort of tattoo but it's the color of their soul, and inside there's a circle with their soulmate's color. So, you know, if you both have the same colors but the other way around, then you know you're soulmates, yadda yadda yadda.

The Vinsmoke siblings don't have those because Judge made them that way, except Sanji. Sanji has a blue bracelet painted around his wrist and decorated with a yellow circle. Which would be great if it wasn't because he hates that color. It's always the color Judge chooses for him and it always reminds him that he can never escape that damn thing. But, well, when he escapes and meets Zeff and stays with him, the thought of having a soulmate starts being more and more appealing. He's sure she's the prettiest girl in the world! Cheerful and fun and bright like her color. He checks every girl's wrist in case he sees yellow and blue together, and sometimes he does, but it's never the same tone, and by the way the girls act around him he knows they're not his soulmates. But he doesn't lose hope. He'll find his girl someday.

Usopp doesn't really care much about it. He has a yellow bracelet and a blue circle and meh, he thought Kaya was his soulmate but turns out she isn't and that's just about it. He doesn't think much about it and he thinks that, if they're destined to be together, they'll find each other at some point. Tbh, he thinks it's stupid to be forced to be with somebody just because the universe tells you to. Even if he meets his soulmate, he'll probably choose for himself instead of jumping into a relationship like an idiot. Who does that? Forcing a relationship just because some colors tell you to?

He learns, soon enough after some years, that there's an idiot who does that and his name is Sanji. When they meet at the Baratie, Nami points out their soulmate marks (hers being orange and blue. A wonder who that tone of blue might be) Sanji is, uh, very dramatic. He starts panicking, of course, because he never thought his soulmate would be a man. And Usopp is pretty and all but- And he makes his heart go insanely fast, especially now that he knows he's definitely his soulmate. But it can't be. Really. He can't be. Usopp tells him that it's okay and that they don't even have to be soulmates. Perhaps the colors are just really similar. And if they're soulmates (thing Usopp was not expecting either) they don't really have to be if they don't want to. One thing leads to another and Luffy tells him to come with him and be his cook, and Sanji has to admit that even if it takes a lot of convincing, he goes with them. Both for Luffy and for the All Blue. And... For Usopp. He really, really wants to know more. He knows he doesn't have to listen to the universe and do whatever it wants with him, the way he doesn't have to be a Vinsmoke if he doesn't want to. But the soulmate mark- Love. It's. It's kind of a sign of not being a Vinsmoke. So he really, really wants to know about this guy before he starts panicking because it's, uh, a guy.

He's a bit too clingy with Usopp, he has to admit. He doesn't treat him like one of the girls but he definitely cares about him way more than he cares about other men. He protects him more. Keeps an eye on him. Decides to spend more time by his side. Usopp lets him know that nothing will happen between them if he doesn't want to and that he won't date Sanji just because a soulmate mark says so. Sanji accepts it gladly, but he never stops being this way. He just wants the opportunity to love somebody, Usopp doesn't have to feel the same.

So they grow closer. Become best friends, even. Inseparable. Usopp has to admit that, after all, he enjoys Sanji's company the most. And when he's not forcing the soulmate thing between them, he's a sweetheart.

Then Skypiea happens, and Usopp knows that Sanji is more than what he looks like. Water 7 comes next, and Usopp misses Sanji the most. He won't stop staring at the stupid colors. And he thinks that if he's going to leave for good, he wishes he could take Sanji with him. He guesses Sanji would say yes. But he can't do that to him, or the crew. When he joins them again, he thinks about asking Sanji out on a date or something. Or- Or at least saying that he can feel it too. But it would be like following the universe orders and he wants to be more than what the universe tells him to be. He knows soulmates aren't a bad thing (hell, Zoro and Luffy are happy and Nami and Vivi are insane about each other too) but still... Usopp thinks that they need more time. Sanji waits patiently, too, perhaps he has forgotten about it already. The thought of Sanji moving on from him bothers him in the worst of ways, and Usopp feels extremely selfish for even thinking that. So, he'll confess. At some point. Something. He doesn't know exactly what. Is he in love with Sanji? He- He isn't sure. He needs just more time.

Oh. And the universe gives them time. Two fucking years of time to think on his own. Fucking perfect. And that's when Usopp instantly regrets not saying anything, because the first night alone after so long he dreams about blue seas and blue eyes and blue skies and blue blue blue. He decides, then, that he'll grow into somebody Sanji deserves to be with. And he'll fight against the universe for keeping them apart when they were meant to be together. Sanji, during his two years in Momoiro Island, learns that liking boys perhaps isn't that weird. That it could also be a way of showing he is not a Vinsmoke, because Judge would never make somebody who has a soulmate and whose soulmate also happens to be of the same gender. Well- Talking about gender, he's- He's not so sure about that one either, but he doesn't think about it too much.

When they meet again after two years being apart, it's like they know what the other is going to say. There's a confession. It's emotional. Usopp is the one crying, surprisingly enough. But they're together, and that's what matters, right?

Except that the world sort of happens to hate Usopp, and from the moment they step in Dressrosa they don't see each other for a long time. And suddenly Sanji is getting married to some random girl? He- He just really, really, thinks the universe is against him. But there's a force of power way stronger than the universe. Way stronger that the gods. So when Luffy promises him to bring back Sanji for him, Usopp trusts him with his whole soul.

For Sanji, it's a bit weird. Whole Cake is an experience. His brothers tell him he doesn't have the right to have a soulmate so he can't complain about getting married to somebody else. Besides, as if he had any right to do so. Pudding is a gorgeous, precious girl. How can he complain? Sanji starts thinking the things his brothers tell him, somehow. How could he reject somebody like that? Besides, Usopp deserves better. And he has never been too into the soulmate thing, anyway. He'll find someone else and Sanji will get married to a pretty girl that, even if she breaks his heart, will at least keep the crew safe with the marriage. Then Luffy waits for him. And starves for him. And then his captain says something about Usopp too that Sanji does not want to hear but shatters his heart into pieces anyway. He really, really wants go back home.

And he does, after a wild ride. And he has never been happier, even if he knows this is going to hunt him for his whole life and he'll never forget what happened.

He sees Usopp when they get to Wano, and he looks happy without him. He looks like he is, yet he clearly isn't, when his eyes meet Sanji's. Usopp hugs him and kisses him and hits him and insults him and cries and tells him that he's the dumbest guy in the history of men and that he should've thought about his soulmate before pulling this self-sacrificing shit on him. And Usopp keeps yelling and he's extremely angry but Sanji kisses him anyway. And- And they're fine.

They will be fine, the universe likes it or not.

[rosie-b]

The Music of his Soul

A soulmate au written for @ladrienjune!

Ever since she was born, Marinette could hear piano music in her head. 

It wasn’t any song that was playing in the world immediately around her; instead, what she heard were the songs that her soulmate was listening to. They came to her as her soulmate heard them, at seemingly random times from early morning to late afternoon, when the golden rays of sunset began to stream throughout Paris. Marinette enjoyed hearing the piano; it was proof that her other half was out there, alive and waiting to meet her.

You can read the rest on AO3 or below! Reblogs are appreciated 🩷

Ever since she was born, Marinette could hear piano music in her head. 

It wasn’t any song that was playing in the world immediately around her; instead, what she heard were the songs that her soulmate was listening to. They came to her as her soulmate heard them, at seemingly random times from early morning to late afternoon, when the golden rays of sunset began to stream throughout Paris. Marinette enjoyed hearing the piano; it was proof that her other half was out there, alive and waiting to meet her.

Everyone with a soulmate, no matter what kind of bond they shared, received this gift when they were born. Each soulmate could hear the music the other one listened to, as they listened to it. The music couldn’t be just something stuck in their soulmate’s head; it had to be a song they were actually listening to. This made it easier for everyone to find their soulmate, though it didn’t make it a guarantee. Some people never met their soulmate, often because they lived so far away that meeting was impossible.

That had seemed like the situation Marinette’s mother and father were in. The music they heard from each other came at odd hours, and the kinds of songs they heard were often quite different from the ones they heard in their own country. They’d thought they would never get the chance to meet each other, until Sabine took a risk and flew to France. While there, she noticed the music her soulmate listened to coming from a small bakery in Paris, walked in, introduced herself to Tom, confirmed their bond, and the rest was history.

Marinette wanted to be as lucky as her parents had been. She knew her soulmate was in the same time zone as she was, at least, so the odds that she’d meet them were good, relatively speaking. Maybe they even lived in the same city as they did! Maybe they’d passed her on the sidewalk, hidden in plain sight. No matter how long it took, Marinette knew that someday, she’d find them.

Ever since she was young, she dreamed of meeting her soulmate, who would surely be a kind person who’d encourage her, see her for who she truly was, and love her despite any flaws. Her daydreams helped her to overcome Chloe’s bullying, on days when she believed Chloe’s cruel claims that Marinette was too ugly and stupid to ever be loved.

On those days, Marinette would close her eyes and listen to the piano music her soulmate was hearing, knowing that somewhere, someone existed who’d love and understand her. Sometimes she’d go out searching for them, in playgrounds when she was younger, and then in concert halls. She’d told her parents that she mostly heard piano music, and they suggested that perhaps, her soulmate’s parents were musicians. From then on, Marinette attended every concert she could, in hopes that she’d hear the same songs her soulmate was listening to.

But despite all the concerts she’d attended, Marinette hadn’t found her soulmate yet. As she grew older, she’d sometimes go outside and listen to music on her balcony, hoping that her soulmate might hear it, pass by her home, and recognize it. So far, unfortunately, that plan hadn’t worked, either.

When Marinette reached her final year in lycée, she hoped she’d finally met her soulmate. She didn’t have any proof, but she thought it could be Adrien, because she loved him, but also because he played piano, which was something her soulmate seemed to do, now. They’d practice the same song for hours until each flaw in their execution of it was erased. It had annoyed Marinette until she found out about Adrien’s hobby, but she’d never been with him while he listened to or played music yet, so she still had no proof to back her theory. 

If one of them put on headphones and listened to something while the other person guessed which song it was, finding out the truth couldn’t be that hard! It was how Alya and Nino had realized their bond. But Marinette was too timid to ask Adrien outright whether he’d be willing to test her theory with him, and she didn’t see any other way to get proof. For now, she was stuck in a strange limbo, both hoping that Adrien was her soulmate and unable to fully believe in her dream while it was only a wishful notion.

Chat Noir had suggested that they were soulmates, after Clara Nightingale was akumatized. But all of Paris had heard that forced duet they’d performed, thanks to the fight being broadcast live. That they both heard it twice over in their heads meant nothing, she’d told him, feeling half bad as his kitty ears drooped.

It hadn’t stopped him from flirting with her, of course. But piano music, especially difficult pieces practiced with such patience as her soulmate had, did not seem to fit her kitty. No, Marinette was certain that someone else was her soulmate.

She found herself thinking about it as she patrolled one evening, swinging through Paris by herself. Chat Noir had left her a message that he couldn’t make it, thanks to a last-minute responsibility popping up, so she was left with her thoughts to fill the silence usually occupied by her partner’s jokes.

As she patrolled the arrondissements, Ladybug visited a few parks, stopping to cheer civilians up and playing with the children to cheer herself up. After so many years with either piano music, her father’s singing, or her partner’s excited chatter filling her days, Ladybug found that she no longer liked silence, so she filled it as often as she could. It felt wrong to be left alone with her thoughts.

Someday, she hoped, she wouldn’t have to be alone at all. Once she met her soulmate, they could keep her company with their laughter and voice, not just their music, as precious a gift as that was.

As if summoned by her thoughts, Ladybug heard the soft sounds of piano fill her mind. She instantly relaxed as she listened to it, though for now, her soulmate was only warming up. Simple chords and exercises, music in their own right, danced through Ladybug’s head as she waved goodbye to the children she’d played with and took off to Paris’ roofs.

From up high, the city’s bustling noise vanished, and it was easier to listen to whatever song her soulmate would be playing this time. Recently, they’d started practicing a new song, playing it over and over. They’d nearly mastered it, though last time, they’d messed up a chord and abruptly stopped practice.

That had been yesterday, and Marinette hadn’t heard anything from her soulmate since then. She was glad to hear from them again now; she’d listened to her favorite collection of feel-good songs that morning, hoping to cheer her soulmate up with the cheerful lyrics. Maybe her attempt to help them had worked!

As Ladybug listened, content to hear her soulmate warm up with a shorter song and then begin looping the slow, melancholic yet beautiful song they were learning, she kept moving through Paris. She was on patrol, after all, and so she continued checking on the civilians she passed, albeit from above, unlike before.

Since the sun was beginning to set and her time to patrol was coming to an end, Ladybug decided to head to her arrondissement, taking her time, appreciating how well the song her soulmate played fit the atmosphere of a lazy Paris in the evening. Golden light reflected in the clouds and the windows of each building she passed, complementing the quiet beauty of the song.

As she listened to the song, Ladybug thought she heard a crescendo, which was odd. Her soulmate hadn’t added one to the song before; it was a calm, soothing piece, by Liszt, if she wasn’t mistaken, and it wasn’t suited for a dramatic performance.

And yet, the song grew louder still, almost as if it was being twice over in her mind.

Ladybug stopped on the next rooftop, frozen as she considered what that could mean. Was she that close to her soulmate? Could she be hearing the song played, not just through the soul bond, but in real life, as well?

Could she be that lucky?

Ladybug quickly turned around, noting exactly which part of the neighborhood she was in, and gasped. She was right beside the Agreste mansion! The music— it couldn’t be coming from Adrien’s window, could it?

Her heart rate quickened as she closed her eyes and listened to the strains of music, unable to completely verify that the song was indeed coming from Adrien’s window. She wanted it to be, of course; she would love to finally have proof that her crush was also her soulmate! And what better match was there for her than Adrien? But she couldn’t jump to conclusions, either! Adrien was hardly the only boy in this part of the arrondissement who played piano.

Hoping for proof, unable to stop herself, Ladybug took a deep breath and swung over to the ledge by Adrien’s window, hiding herself at its far edge while dangling from the roof for extra support. Sure enough, the music grew even louder, and yet, there was no disconnect between the song in her head and the one coming from Adrien’s room. 

Heart racing, she peered through the window, catching a glimpse of Adrien himself at the piano. Yes! It really was him!! Ladybug held in a squeal and wiggled excitedly, biting her lip as she smiled. Wait until she saw Adrien tomorrow at school! She’d bring her favorite pair of headphones, show up early, and listen to her favorite songs as she waited for Adrien to arrive. When he saw her, he’d ask to hear what she was listening to, and she’d blush and show him, and he’d realize that his soulmate was her, and they’d hold hands, maybe even kiss, and—

All of a sudden, the music stopped. 

Ladybug froze, choking on a gasp as she cowered, crouching below Adrien’s window. Instead of a song, this time she heard footsteps approaching, growing louder and louder until finally, they stopped.

“Hmm,” Adrien’s voice came, travelling down to Ladybug from his window. She shivered. “There’s a yo-yo string in front of my window. How odd.”

Panicking, Ladybug looked up, and met Adrien’s curious gaze.

They stared at each other for a moment. Ladybug’s cheeks warmed as she realized that she’d been caught, and a smile spread over Adrien’s face.

“I knew it,” he breathed. “I could hear the song twice as loud as usual, like it was in my head from the bond and coming from the piano as I played. I thought I was crazy, but it’s you!”

A startled meep tore from Ladybug’s mouth, and she stood up to cover her embarrassment, stepping onto the open window frame. Adrien held his hand out to her, and as she cautiously took it, he pulled her into his room.

“You’re my soulmate,” he said in an awed tone. “Ladybug is my soulmate!”

Ladybug’s flush deepened. “Yes, but don’t go telling the whole neighborhood!” she pleaded.

Adrien slapped his face. “Right, of course, sorry. I just wasn’t expecting this to happen, tonight especially!”

Ladybug raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean, tonight especially? I know what you mean about not expecting this, but— is tonight special somehow?”

Adrien’s eyes widened. “Oh! Not really, I guess, it’s just been a long day, and I thought, you know, if anything else was going to happen, it would be my father telling me I still need to practice more, not my soulmate dropping in and that you’d be her, I mean, how lucky can I get?”

Unable to prevent a smile from crawling onto her face at how excited Adrien seemed that she, of all people, was his soulmate, Ladybug bashfully raised a hand to half-cover her expression.

“I’m glad you think you’re lucky to have me as your soulmate. I’m lucky to have you! I— I mean, it sounds like your day wasn’t all that good, but I’m glad I can help it end on a happier note,” she offered timidly. “I’m glad to find out you’re my soulmate, too.”

Adrien shivered as a smile replaced the concerned look on his face. “W-well, then, would you like to stay for a while? We should probably get to know each other better, now that we know we’re soulmates. I mean! We’ve met a few times before, but I don’t know much about you other than that you’re Paris’ savior. But I want to learn more, if you’ll let me?”

“I’d like that,” Ladybug said, her heart swelling. Finally, she could spend some time alone with the boy she loved!

But Adrien didn’t know that part. He never seemed to realize how much his ‘good friend’ Marinette cared for him, and if he didn’t know that Ladybug, his soulmate, was Marinette, then he had to reason to assume she knew him, at all! She’d have to get to know him all over again, this time as Ladybug.

Maybe she wasn’t quite as lucky as she’d thought. But then again, there was no reason to assume this would go poorly! One more secret was nothing to her when she’d been hiding so many, even if this one was so close to her heart.

“So, what made you choose the songs you’ve been playing?” she asked, noticing that Adrien had taken a seat on his couch. He motioned for her to join him, and so she sat down, close but not too close, less than half a meter away. “The one you’re working on is by Liszt, right? I’ve been trying to place it; it’s part of Liebestraum, though I don’t recognize the exact section it’s in.”

Adrien nodded. “You’re not far off! It’s his Consolation number 6, but there are some similarities to Liebstraum in it. My father wanted me to learn a new piece, and I always liked Liszt, so I chose something of his that was at my skill level. Unfortunately, I keep getting distracted while I practice, and I wasn’t up to Father’s standards when I played the piece for him yesterday. That’s why I practiced it so much today.”

“Ah, that makes sense. I noticed you playing some parts of the song over and over until you got the notes right, but I think you’re perfect! Er, the song, your playing of it, that is!” Ladybug nervously fiddled with the end of her left pigtail.

Adrien watched with pursed lips. “That must be very annoying for you. Every time I mess up and need to start over, I worry that my practice must be driving you insane! I wish I could get each song right the first time I play it.”

“Oh, I don’t mind!” Ladybug jumped to say. “I mean, of course it gets annoying sometimes, but I understood that you were practicing piano, and mistakes are part of practice! I even tried piano myself, that one year. But you’re much better at it than me,” she laughed, and Adrien joined in with a quiet chuckle. “Really, the times when you just keep practicing the same parts, over and over and over… it feels more like you’re punishing yourself than me.”

Ladybug fell quiet, realizing that since Adrien really was her soulmate, those long, painful hours of practice were more likely because of Gabriel’s demands than Adrien’s desire to keep playing piano for so long. Glancing at Adrien, she noticed he looked slightly uncomfortable, shifting slightly and fidgeting with his fingers.

“I always like when you break up the practices with something fun,” she said, quickly trying to change the subject to something a little more fun. “Like, after a mistake, when you play the quick da-da-da-da-da thing, or some other song you know. Or even just smash the keyboard and take your revenge on it,” she said with a laugh. 

Those times would sometimes startle her, but she liked the flash of personality they carried. Besides, with how talented her soulmate’s playing usually was, a sudden jangling of keys was out of place enough to be funny and make her laugh.

Adrien’s ears reddened, and he looked horrified. “You could hear those awful key smashes? I’m so sorry! I thought the soul bond would recognize that they weren’t music and not share them! Otherwise, I wouldn’t have done that. Ugh, I’m so sorry,” he repeated, leaning back and covering his face with his hands as his blush spread.

Ladybug giggled. “It’s okay, they felt cathartic! Besides, to me, every sound you make is music,” she admitted without thinking.

Adrien inhaled sharply and dropped his hands away from his face to stare at her. “Really? But you, you can’t mean that! I’ve messed up so many times; you should be sick of hearing me practice by now!”

Ladybug shrugged. “Like I said, it gets repetitive sometimes, and yeah, that can be annoying, but I’m always glad to hear your music. It’s even more special knowing you’re the one creating it! Plus, it’s a reminder that you’re alive, and you’re safe. I was worried when you stopped playing so abruptly last night, then didn’t hear anything else from you. When I heard you playing while I was out on patrol, I was so relieved! And I think the song you’re working on is just beautiful,” she added shyly.

“O-oh, really?” Adrien asked as his eyes timidly met hers. “I’m glad you liked it! It’s not the most exciting, I know, but I think it’s a sweet, gentle piece.”

“It is,” Ladybug agreed. “And you bring out the emotion in it very well. I know your father wants it to be perfect, but I think it sounds good even with a few mistakes. It’s not as if you’re a professional musician,” she mused, looking Adrien up and down.

“Thank you, mi– Ladybug. That means a lot to me, that you think I play it well. Although— you did think I was a professional musician once, didn’t you? Or that my mother was. I remember you went to a lot of piano concerts, before— well, before I started practicing on my own.”

Ladybug flinched, realizing why that must have happened. “Ever since I was very little, I heard piano music through our bond. My parents suggested that maybe one of your parents was a piano player,” she said with a shrug.

Adrien hummed and looked out over the city. “They weren’t entirely wrong. My mother was classically trained, and she was very good at piano. I used to beg her to let me sit on her lap and pretend to play along with her. That’s how I got started on playing piano, myself.”

Ladybug was quiet for a moment. “I’m sorry she isn’t here with you now. I think she’d be proud to know how well you’re doing,” she whispered.

“Thank you,” Adrien murmured. “I hope she would be proud of me, too. And I think she’d be happy to know I finally found you,” he said, turning to meet Ladybug’s gaze. Slowly, he reached out to take her hand, raising it to his lips, and pressed a gentle kiss to her knuckles. “I always wanted to meet my soulmate. You seemed so happy, when you were singing along with your father or listening to rock music. The music I heard from you was always so lively, and I appreciated that you tried listening to piano music on your own, too. Our tastes aren’t that different.”

Ladybug smiled. “No, I suppose they aren’t. You’re a fan of Jagged Stone, like I am!” She smiled, remembering the time Adrien had asked her to autograph the cover she’d designed for Jagged.

Adrien’s smile widened. “Yep! Anyone who doesn’t like him just has bad taste. All my friends like Jagged’s stuff.”

“Then you must have good taste in friends,” Ladybug joked.

Adrien beamed. “I really do! Did you know that my friend Marinette designed cover art and Jagged’s favorite pair of sunglasses for him? She’s so talented and creative! You two need to meet; I’m sure you’d get along well.”

Ladybug barely resisted the urge to squeal excitedly. Adrien thought she was talented! He was bragging about her to his soulmate (who was also Marinette, but he didn’t know that)!

“I’m sure we will,” she said dazedly. “I’d love to meet all your friends! But, Adrien, as happy as I am to find out that you’re my soulmate… it does lead to a problem, you know?”

“What do you mean?” Adrien asked, tilting his head in confusion. Between him and Ladybug, their hands still rested, intertwined.

Ladybug’s heart melted into a warm puddle at how cute he looked. “W-well, you know, I’m Ladybug,” she pointed out.

“Yes,” Adrien agreed, clearly still confused.

“And you’re a civilian,” she continued, waiting for him to understand.

Adrien’s brows wrinkled, but then he seemed to get it. His eyes widened, and he sat up straighter, letting go of Ladybug’s hand. She mourned the lack of contact for a moment before speaking.

“I can’t let Hawk Moth know you’re my soulmate. It’s bad enough that he and half of Paris seem to think Chat Noir and I are linked; can you imagine how terrified I would be if he started attacking you on purpose? Targeting my soulmate to wear me down is exactly the kind of thing he’d do. And I don’t think my heart could take it,” she said earnestly, moving closer to Adrien to take his hand in hers again.

“We can’t let anyone know we’ve found our soulmate yet,” Adrien whispered, eyes shimmering and full of realization. “But that’s not fair! To me or you. I wish I could shout it from the rooftops, that I have the best soulmate in all Paris,” he said sadly.

Ladybug rubbed circles on the back of his hand with her thumb, and he sighed as he looked down at their joined hands.

“I understand why we can’t tell anyone, Ladybug. I won’t even tell Nino, I swear! I just wish that fate was kinder to us.” His mournful eyes met hers, tugging on her heartstrings.

Throwing her hesitance to the side, Ladybug pulled Adrien into a hug, running her fingers through his hair the way she did for Chat Noir sometimes. He melted into it, moving so he was halfway in her lap and throwing his arms around her in turn.

“I wish this had happened differently, so that we could tell everyone we liked,” she whispered to him. “I’m really happy it’s you, you know? I— I’d hoped it would be,” she admitted, hoping he’d understand and not reject her for being just a weird fan.

But he didn’t.

“I did, too. I think about you more often than is probably healthy for my grades,” he giggled. “Sometimes, it distracts me while I’m practicing, if a song reminds me of you. You’ve been the cause of a few of my mistakes.”

Ladybug laughed along with him, pulling back from the hug to look him in the eyes.

“Just because we can’t tell anyone doesn’t mean we can’t see each other, Adrien. Your room might not be the ideal place for a date; I’m sure you dreamed of more exciting scenes for it, but if you want to…”

Her voice trailed off shyly as she realized that maybe Adrien didn’t want to try dating her. What if all he wanted was a platonic soulmate and she’d overstepped her bounds?

Adrien’s eyes shone brightly as he grabbed both her hands and leaned forward as he looked at her. “Really? You mean you’d be willing to date me? Me, when I’m just Adrien?”

“What do you mean, just?” Ladybug scoffed. “Just Adrien Agreste, one of the nicest, prettiest boys in the world! Who wouldn’t want to date you, given the chance? But if you don’t want to date me, I understand,” she said, looking down.

Adrien pulled her into another hug. “Are you kidding me? It would be the best day of my life if you said yes to a date with me.”

Ladybug’s mouth fell open for a moment, and a blush spread over her face like wildfire. Shocked but filled with so much happiness she could burst, she smiled and relaxed into the hug, nuzzling her head against Adrien, where it fit into the crook of his neck.

“I thought I was the one asking,” she murmured, delirious with hope and joy.

Adrien giggled. “Oh, of course. Far be it from me to take a lady’s words from her.”

“I know of a better way you could go about doing it,” Ladybug muttered without thinking. Then she stiffened and fell back onto the sofa, letting out an alarmed squeak. “Sorry! That forward so wug, gah,” she moaned. She peered up at Adrien to see how bad the damage was.

Adrien was blushing, but he looked more happy than anything else.

“Maybe after you finish asking me,” he suggested, and Ladybug’s cheeks burned.

“Will you go on a date with me,” she said as quickly as possible, not sure if the words made sense or if they’d blended together into an incomprehensible soup again.

“Yes!” Adrien crowed, diving forward to claim her lips in an exuberant kiss. Their teeth clacked together at first, but they adjusted their positions and tried again, melting into each other’s arms as they enjoyed a few moments of bliss. This time, Ladybug tugged Adrien’s lower lip between hers, noting with pleasure the low sound he made in response. His arms tightened around her, erasing the distance between them, and their eyes closed as if in rapture.

After what felt like both forever and not long enough, the kiss ended, and they both sat back, gasping for air.

“So, when should the date be?” Adrien asked once he’d caught his breath. “I guess it’s late now, but I could set something up tomorrow evening, if you’re free?”

Ladybug, flushed pink from the kiss, blushed deeper at his words. She giggled, helplessly delighted by the way the day had turned out. She’d found out Adrien was her soulmate, and they’d even kissed!

“I’d love you— to! I’d love to,” she corrected, still so overcome by the kiss that she didn’t feel the usual rush of embarrassment from mixing up her words in front of Adrien. “Any specific time? Oh, and I can bring pastries,” she offered quickly. “Chouquettes, or whatever you’d like.”

Adrien smiled, a crooked, imperfect expression that would never make it into the magazines. It found its place in Ladybug’s heart, instead.

“Any kind of pastry would be amazing,” he gushed. “I feel like I can never get enough, especially when it’s from the Dupain-Cheng bakery! As for the time, around dusk is usually when my duties end. But if I can finish early, I could send you a signal? If you have a favorite song, I could play that when I’m ready for you.”

Ladybug smiled broadly. “Absolutely, that works! Uh, I don’t know the title, but I always liked the song you tend to play last after practice? You hum along sometimes and I think it’s adorable,” she said, watching a light blush return to Adrien’s cheeks.

“Oh, that one! My maman and I made it up,” he explained. “We call it the golden song, because we invented it in the evening, and there was sunlight streaming through the room from the window. Like it was when your visit began.”

Ladybug’s stomach twisted nervously. “Oh, sorry! I didn’t realize it was so personal for you.”

Adrien smiled gently. “It is, and it isn’t. Half the reason we made it up was to send a nice song to my soulmate. I used to want to write a million songs for you, but I’m not very good at it, so Maman wound up writing most of the song. I know it by muscle memory, now.”

“Oh,” Ladybug gasped. A warm feeling spread through her chest at the thought of little Adrien writing a song for her with his mother. “Well, it’s beautiful!”

“I’m glad you think so,” Adrien responded. “We can think of it as her gift to us. I think it’s the perfect song to use as our signal.”

Ladybug nodded, smiling back at Adrien. “So, I’ll see you tomorrow, then?”

His smile broadened. “See you tomorrow… soulmate.”

Ladybug stood up to leave, and Adrien followed her to the window.

“Before you go, Ladybug, I was wondering. Would you give me another kiss, for a goodbye?”

Ladybug smirked. “A bit clingy, I see. But I don’t mind,” she said, stepping closer to him. 

Before she could lose her nerve, she leaned up to give him a kiss, aiming for the corner of his mouth. He turned his head to catch it full on his lips and smiled, almost dopily, as she pulled away.

“Goodbye, Ladybug. Thank you for dropping by,” he said with a twinkle in his eye. “I’ll miss you while you’re gone.”

“Then I’ll make sure not to be late tomorrow,” she said, offering Adrien a smile as she turned back to the window. “I’ll miss you, too, Adrien. But as long as we’re connected, just play me a song and I’ll know you’re thinking of me. And I’ll think of you, too.”

With a last fond look and a nod, she flung out her yo-yo, swinging away from Adrien’s window into the darkening city. But even though she was left alone in the silence, her heart was warm and full of song. 

Adrien Agreste was her soulmate. And he’d agreed to date her! They already had a special song, and to make things even better, she’d get to see him again the next day. How could things get any better?

Ladybug landed on her balcony and detransformed, smiling as she got ready for bed. And when a piano song filled her ears as she settled in bed, she smiled and hummed along to her soulmate’s music, dreaming of a thousand tomorrows.

[da-birb-writes-sometimes]

Of Truths & Dreams; Sebek Zigvolt

Dreams can tell you a lot about a person. Their wants, their fears. But sometimes they can tell you the truth, and sometimes it isn't pretty.

Supporting Characters; Silver & Professor Trein

Content; Soulmate AU (I call them soul matches though), gender-neutral reader, can be read as familial, platonic, or romantic, enemies-to-friends-to-*insert your relationship here*, reader is done with Sebek's bullshit, bullying Sebek hours (affectionate)

Content Warnings; Talk of death, swearing

Word Count; 5 K

Do not put any of my work into AI, that shit steals. If you do I'm eating your kneecaps.

Prologue & Lilia's Story | Malleus's Story

Sebek knew, even as a young child, that his parents’ marriage would end in heartbreak. That his mother would be left alone for centuries, heartbroken, because of his father’s humanity, because he was mortal. If you know something will only end in heartbreak, why go forth with it? Are a few decades of happiness truly worth it if it will bring centuries of loneliness? 

He used to not think in that light, but the whispers of fellow children, and the look of concern in his grandfather’s eyes upon seeing a single strand of silver in his son-in-law’s hair. His father was ageing, and when compared to the fae, he was ageing rapidly. His mother would still be young when his father would be growing old and senile. That’s what started the seed of bitterness, of resentment, of fear. 

Sebek was scared. He was scared that he may be dealt the same hand of fate; that his lifespan would be short like his father’s. And afraid that he would outlive him by several centuries if he inherited the fae lifespan. Both terrified him, and he was only six. Six years old and sitting on the tire swing that hung from the hawthorn tree, a scowl etched into his forehead. “It isn’t fair,” he muttered under his breath.

“What isn’t fair?” The gentle voice of his father startled Sebek, who fell off the swing. The older man picked him up and dusted off Sebek’s clothes. “There we go, not even a scratch,” he chuckled, ruffling his son’s pastel green hair.

How can he be so happy? Sebek scowled, and he felt a warmness build up in his eyes, tears. “Nothing,” he spat and ran off.

Unlike his mother, Sebek could lie, and it came easier to him than his siblings. It’s because I’m closer to him. And that scared him. It scared him, and he didn’t know why. He loves his father, but his humanity, that scares him. 

Pushing something away is much easier than accepting it, even adults, both human and fae, do it. Keep that fear and hide it away, under a mask of superiority. But the truth will always come out, one way or another.

I hate you! But he didn’t, Sebek loved him, but it was easier to pretend to hate something than to love it and then for it to wither before your very own eyes. 

…

Sebek’s dreams had colour, except for one. It was a mix of fae and human, and a sign from the Thorn Fairy that he had a soul match… but why was there one colour that was missing? His dreams should have been black and white, but the sky overhead was blue, the poppies in the field a brilliant red, and the centres of daisies a cheerful yellow. But one colour was missing, green. Where green should have been, there was nothing but shades of grey.

“Is anybody there?” His voice called out. He could hear his voice, his words weren’t floating in front of him. There was also no one else in the field with him. Sebek was alone. “ANYBODY?!”

He started running, he didn’t know where to, but he needed to get away. So he ran, and he kept on running until he came across a path which forked out into two directions, a crossroad. Sebek needed to choose. Left or right?

On the left, there was a butterfly flitting lazily down the path, whereas on the right was a hornet, its stinger wielded like a sword. The butterfly reminded him of his father, as butterflies do not live for long, and were seen as demure things. The hornet reminded him of his mother and grandfather, fierce and ready to defend; they, and the hornet, were knights. They feared nothing.

Sebek took off running down the right-hand path and kept on running until he came across a familiar castle, the castle where his grandfather worked. The fires glowed grey in Sebek’s eyes, but he knew they must have been green.

“Who are you?”

Sebek startled at the voice and he turned around. Standing behind him was a boy around his age with silvery hair, and lilac eyes. He could clearly make out his face, and his voice. The boy was clearly human, and that irked Sebek; his soul match wasn’t here but this random human child was? Behind him was the butterfly from earlier, glowing white and fluttering about before coming to rest on Sebek’s chest, resting on his heart.

Go away. Leave me alone. But Sebek bit his tongue and marched into the castle. “A future knight,” he boasted, bottling down his true emotions. “I’m going to be a knight. Like my grandfather!”

The boy walked behind Sebek and gave him a sleepy hum. “That’s who you’re going to be,” he said matter of factly, “I asked who are you not who are you going to be.” Not even three minutes of knowing each other, and the relationship between the two children was off to a rocky start.

“Names have power,” Sebek huffed. “How do I know you won’t use it to cross me, human?” He spat out the last word, human, his anger out in the open, his insecurity showing itself. “You tell me yours first.”

The other boy raised a pale brow at the hostility but decided it would just be better to accommodate rather than butt heads. “Silver. And you?”

Sebek huffed, but he could tell that the boy, Silver, was being honest with him. “Sebek.”

Silver offered him a soft smile, his eyes going from the butterfly which was still resting on Sebek’s heart to his face. “It’s nice to meet you, Sebek.”

And then Sebek woke up, blinking his eyes groggily. The only thing he could remember being the castle, his wanting to be a knight, and a butterfly that wouldn’t leave him alone.

…

…

…

The mirror took less than a second to place Sebek into Diasomnia, there was no better or other option. And Sebek was happy, so happy that he could continue serving Malleus, or in his words ‘Young Master’. Scratch that, Sebek was overjoyed. But the ceremony, which should have been perfect, was marred with chaos, because of a human. A magicless human.

Sebek shook his head. Today was good, regardless of the chaos. It should have not mattered, but Sebek couldn’t help but feel that it would have repercussions, a butterfly effect of sorts. It had the hairs on his neck stand on end. He could worry about it more in the morning though, he was of no use to anybody if he didn’t rest.

~

He was on the tire swing in the backyard, slowly going back and forth with the gentle breeze. What am I doing back here?

Usually, his dreams were about training, about being a knight, of protecting the Draconia line… not of childhood places, let alone at his own home. And sitting on the tire with him was the butterfly, still pale and glowing.

“What do you want,” he questioned the insect. 

But the bug paid him no mind and took flight, doing gentle loops around his head. And as Sebek watched the butterfly, he noticed the slow shift in his dream. Everything started to take on a green hue, and the butterfly was now a brilliant pastel green. That could mean only one thing.

They were here. Sebek didn’t really know what to think or feel. On one hand, compared to many, he hadn’t been waiting for very long, which is seen as a kind gesture from the Thorn Fairy. But on the other hand, Sebek was confused about what his colour difference could mean, and why now of all times? He didn’t have the time to go chasing after some random stranger. He had a duty to uphold, and if they got in the way, or possessed to be a danger to his Young Master… well, Sebek knew what he would have to do. 

The air in front of him shimmered. They are just entering the REM part of sleep now. Sebek clenched his fists and righted himself up, standing straight as a board. First impressions meant everything after all, and he for one did not want his first impression to be someone sitting on a tire swing and questioning flying insects. 

The air stopped shimmering, and they appeared in front of him, their appearance hidden because ‘Good things come to those who wait’ according to the Thorn Fairy. 

“Yeah, sure, why not. My day just had to get weirder,” their words floated in front of them, irritated. Sebek could feel their eyes looking him over, inspecting him, judging him. “Who are you supposed to be, huh?”

Sebek wasn’t sure what to expect when he first met his soul match, but he wasn’t expecting someone so… rude. Well, rude in his eyes at least. He felt his eye twitch, but he held together his composure. “I am your soul match!” The words were barked out, but they just floated in the breeze with no volume. The only thing that indicated that Sebek had said it loudly being the exclamation point at the end, as well as the sharpness of the letters.

But his soul match, even though he couldn’t properly make out their face, did not look impressed, and that rubbed him the wrong way. Every fae child grew up waiting in anticipation for their soul match to enter their dreams, to see their coloured hue tint their shared dreams. So why weren’t they more excited? 

“Did you pay any attention to me,” he huffed, still standing at attention, like his grandfather taught him. “I said that I’m your soul match!”

His soul match just brought their hand to their temple and massaged the spot. “I heard… saw? … you the first time, buddy,” they muttered tiredly. “That’s nice, that I’m your ‘soul match’,” they did air quotes around the term, “but I have no idea what that means or why I’m here.”

Sebek felt a lump form in his throat. Fae know about soul matches, even if it was kept secret from the outside world, fae knew. That meant that his soul match wasn’t fae, and other clans knew of the term, which only meant one thing. His soul match is human. 

They were weak and short-lived. Sebek had taught himself to look down on humans years ago, so why now, would the Thorn Fairy make his soul match human? The part of himself that he most feared?

…

…

…

You were running on fumes. Of the meagre sleep you were able to get, you were rudely interrupted by some stranger blathering about how humans were inferior. And quite frankly it pissed you off, royally so. You already got enough shit from everyone else about being magicless in a magic-dependent world, but for your ‘soul match’, someone you barely knew but was supposed to make you happy, constantly berating you for something that you couldn’t change. Yeah, you avoided them at all costs. And when you couldn’t avoid them? Well, you ignored them. It was much easier to ignore someone when you couldn’t actually hear them; all you needed to do was shut your eyes. Could you sleep when you were already sleeping? Well, you were. It was better than paying any attention to your bristly companion.

At least the tree you were resting under was nice, but you could feel your ‘soul match’ staring daggers at you. Cracking an eye open you found them standing as straight and stiff as a board, an air of a scowl surrounding them. 

“Who pissed in your cereal?” 

Your ‘soul match’ reeled back, and you saw a bunch of nonsense spelt out in the air before they controlled themself again, going back to their stiff posture. “THAT IS RUDE AND UNBECOMING TO SAY!” Their words were all capitalized, a sure fire sign that they were yelling at you. But since your first, and honestly disastrous, meeting weeks ago, it had very little effect on you. If anything, it was funny; seeing someone who held themself in such high regard be nothing more than a yappy dog. 

You waved them off, shooing away their words. “You didn’t answer my question though. Did someone piss in your cereal?”

“NO!” They shouted, looking so fed up with you. “You are so… so… so ANNOYING,” they fumbled around with what word to use but finally decided on one. Annoying. “Humans are so annoying! The lot of you!”

And there they went again, on their anti-human tirade again. Seriously, what is their problem? “Better annoying than some stuck up prick,” you countered.

You knew you were playing with fire, but you didn’t care. You just wanted to piss them off. You were tired of playing nice in your waking hours, so in your dreams? You could be as snarky and confrontational as you pleased. Consequences be damned.

They were fuming, and sputtering. “How dare you?! What makes you think you can just act like that?!”

You sighed and got up from your resting spot, and moved over to them. “Because. I. Can.” You poked them, hard, in the chest with each word. “And what makes you think you can act like that? Like an entitled asshole who demeans and belittles others who are different from you?! What is your damage?!”

And right as your soul match was about to answer you, you left the dream, waking up from your own frustration.

Looks like it was yet another night of a restless sleep, only to be met with disappointment and wanting to do nothing more than prove everyone wrong. Prove them wrong about you, and for your soul match, prove them wrong about humans.

…

Understandably, you were not in the best of moods that day. At best you got maybe three hours of rest before you woke up due to pure frustration at your ‘soul match’ and their sour disposition. And it was noticeable, well, noticeable to some people who could pick up the subtle shift. That your smile was a bit too forced, and that you weren’t fully paying attention.

Professor Trein noticed, and Lucius had stayed on your lap throughout the entire class. And as he was walking up and down the aisles, making sure people were actually doing their work, the older man tapped you on the shoulder. “Prefect, a word after class,” it was said quietly enough that you were the only one to hear that, and he went back on patrol.

Shit, was I spacing off? You just hoped that it wasn’t anything serious. The last thing you needed was Crowley finding out about your grades slipping or any other infraction, and getting on your case and bringing up your situation for the nth time. So, the rest of the class seemed to drag on for what felt like forever, even though in reality, there were only fifteen minutes left. But every time you felt the anxiety spike, Lucius would shift in your lap or knead his paws into your uniform, dragging you away from obsessing over it. And finally, the bell rang.

“You guys go on without me,” you said to Ace, Deuce and Grim, shooting them a tired smile. “I’ll catch up with you.”

The trio waved you off, and headed off, leaving you alone with Professor Trein, who was sitting at his desk, preparing for his next lecture.

You took in a deep breath, trying to calm yourself. “You wanted to speak with me, Professor?”

He set his papers down, and motioned for you to take a seat, which you did. This, this meant something bad, you could tell. Why else would he motion for you to take a seat?

“Prefect,” he sighed tiredly, “have you been taking care of yourself?”

Of course he noticed, Trein, unlike your friends, noticed the familiar look. He noticed the tenseness in your shoulders, and the dark shadows under your eyes. Noticed the cheerful air grow weary, which was such a pity. You shouldn’t have to shoulder everything you do, especially while juggling all of the responsibilities and new knowledge that you’ve been acquiring. 

You looked down at your lap, fiddling with your fingers. “No, not really,” you admitted. 

Professor Trein nodded, since he already knew that, even without the confirmation. “I won’t press you for details, but I’ll have a discussion with the others, about lightening your workload. Please, do take care of yourself, Prefect.”

Take care of yourself. That’s something you hadn’t really been doing, what with all the errands, the near-death overblot incidents, and the piss poor sleep you’ve been getting lately because of your ‘soul match’.

“I’ll try.” You couldn’t guarantee anything, but you would try.

“Alright then, that’s a start. Now, off you go, lest you be late,” he collected the papers he needed and adjusted his coat, ready for his next lecture. “Be kind to yourself, Prefect.”

…

…  

Sebek woke up that day irritated. What is your damage?! Who did that human think they were? But that statement irked him more than it really should. He wasn’t harmed, his value and worth was not impaired. So why was he so affected by the phrase? Why should he care so much about what a stranger said to him? Because no matter what, they are still your soul match. He shook his head and marched out of his room, going ahead and performing his morning duties, his mood being apparent, following him like a storm cloud.

Silver noticed this as Sebek came to a stop beside him, ready to greet Malleus. “Something is obviously upsetting you,” he murmured, shooting him a sideways look while still standing at attention.

Sebek glared at Silver out of the corner of his eye, his brow slightly pinched. “It’s none of your business,” he hissed under his breath. The last thing he needed was for the Young Master to catch wind that he was distracted while on the job. Malleus wouldn’t really mind, but Sebek wouldn’t forgive himself for his own ineptitude. 

Silver sighed and turned his eyes back towards Malleus’s door. “It’s better to admit something than bottle it up Sebek. Eventually the truth will come out, one way or another.”

“Now is not the time for that,” Sebek said, trying to control his volume. “And it doesn’t concern you.” It concerns only me and them. 

Silver raised his brow but left well enough alone, he knew better than to egg Sebek on when he was in one of his moods. But he knew that the truth would come out, and he felt like it would rear its ugly head sooner rather than later. He just hoped Sebek didn’t just blow up on the wrong person. Not because Sebek was bad for feeling whatever emotions he was feeling, but because not everyone understood him.

Maybe even Sebek didn’t even understand himself either.

…

…

You and your soul match were back at the house, but instead of standing straight up like they had a stick up their ass, they were sitting in the tire swing, swinging gently back and forth. And the butterfly that always followed them around, was resting comfortably on their chest, right above their heart. Here was this usually grumpy and tall person, swinging on a tire swing, a butterfly on their chest, and it was kind of cute. In a really weird way. But you could tell they weren’t happy, muttering to themself.

Usually, you would poke the bear to get a reaction out of them, but tonight you didn’t want to. You were too tired to put in the effort. Plus in all the weeks of antagonising each other, you hadn’t really gotten to know them.

“Hi,” you said, coming to rest beside the tire swing.

Your soul match — who was in actuality, Sebek —  gave you a curt nod as a hello back. Something was on his mind.

“What did you mean the other day?” He turned to look at you, eyes probing to try and find something that would tell him who you were in the waking world. But your appearance remained fuzzy, except for your eyes, which gleamed softly in the green lighting of the dream. He hadn’t really paid them any attention, but now he was lost in them, and what he saw was tiredness. “What did you mean by, what is my damage?”

Sebek wasn’t angry, which surprised you. You would have thought he would be a thundering storm cloud, but he was more like the cool breeze that came once the storm had passed. And you noticed his eyes, chartreuse with vertical slits. You could have sworn that you had seen those eyes before, you knew those eyes, but the person in mind was evading you.

You sighed, and the butterfly that was resting on his chest took flight, did a loopdeloop, and came to rest over your heart instead. “I don’t know, “ you admitted. “I was angry and tired. My life is just hectic and sleep is usually an escape from that, but instead I found myself in here with you… You didn’t really help either. Kept on looking down on me for being human, so I kinda snapped… I’m sorry.”

Sebek felt his voice get stuck in his throat. I should be the sorry one. But instead he offered his hand to you. A handshake. “Don’t be sorry for your anger; it’s better out than to let it fester.”

You took his answer to heart. It felt weird, the two of you were at each other’s throats for so long, but because of your combined tiredness and realizations, there was a truce of sorts. “So,” you looked Sebek in the eye, “what does this make us?”

He raised a brow, “Well, we are soul matches. The Thorn Fairy decides upon a person who will bring out the best in you, and in turn, you do the same for them.” He scratched the back of his neck. He knew that he had to tell you everything, but it felt like he was doing something wrong; technically this is breaking a rule, but you deserved to know. “We can be anything we want to be. It’s up to us.”

“Huh, that’s nice I guess. That we get to choose what we are. Thought for a second we would be forced together by the narrative to be in a relationship,” you chuckled. But it was nice that you could choose what the two of you were. “For now how about uneasy friends?”

“Uneasy friends?”

“Yeah, ya know I can’t forgive you that easily for dissing my entire species. Kinda hard to forgive that.” Your tone was light, but you were serious. You couldn’t just go from being dearly detested to buddy-buddy with your soul match.

Sebek pursed his lips but he knew that he was in the wrong. “I’m sorry, truly.” And it was genuine. Sebek didn’t hate humans, he loved them, but that love scared him because he knew that they wouldn’t last forever. That you wouldn’t last forever. 

You leaned back, splaying out in the grass. “Well, explanations can wait. I for one want to cloud watch. You wanna join?”

Sebek rolled his eyes but decided to humour you. “What does that cloud look like?” To him it just looked like an odd blob.

“Hmmmm, kinda looks like a crocodile in a blanket burrito,” you mused. And you were kind of right, but it still looked like an odd blob to Sebek.

…

…

…

Things had quieted down in your and Sebek’s dreams, and for the first time in weeks you felt well rested and not like you were going to randomly pass out in alchemy class only to find yourself headfirst in a cauldron. Plus you felt like you could actually get along with your soul match now, but you still liked to bug them just a little bit so the two of you could bicker. It was fun to see their reactions.

“So, if you’re fae, that must mean that you’re super old right?” You had a shiteating grin on your face, and your words floated around their head, poking at them to mirror what you had said.

Sebek rolled his eyes, he had become accustomed to your sense of humour, it was charming in its own bewildering way. “I am not old!”

You bumped his shoulder, “So you’re just a kid? Ew, gross.”

“I AM NOT A CHILD EITHER!” There it is, that spark, like a bolt of lightning. “If you must know, I am attending a mage school! Therefore, I am not old.”

You hummed, thinking. “What school? Maybe we go to the same one? Although I probably would have recognized you, what with your… unique personality and being fae and all. I don’t think I could mistake you for somebody else.”

Sebek faltered. They attend a mage school? “What do you mean by that, human?” 

There was that word again, human, but this time it was said with fondness, without hostility.

“Personality or school?”

Sebek sighed, and massaged his temple. “Why do I feel like you’ll just answer both?”

You sent him a wink, “Because I will!~ Part of my charms.” You chuckled but decided to humour him by getting straight to the point. “Well, even though you can be prickly, you care very deeply. A bit awkward, but in an endearing way. Loud, and opinionated. It would be hard to miss you, ya know. I mean that in a nice way too, by the way.” You stopped, and considered what you were going to say next, as it could mean finding him in the waking world much easier, but you were ready to meet him. “As for the school thing, I go to Night Raven College.”

“WHAT?!” His words were the largest that you had ever seen, and you knew that you probably would have needed to cover your ears if you could actually hear them. “YOU GO TO NIGHT RAVEN COLLEGE?! SINCE WHEN?!”

Sebek was distraught. You were so close but he didn’t even know? How could he be so blind?!

“Judging from your reaction I’m guessing you also go there, huh? Small world after all, I guess.” Your words didn’t reflect how you were actually feeling though, they mirrored Sebek’s perfectly. “Since you’re fae, I’m also guessing that you’re in Diasomnia. Am I right?”

Sebek looked at you, beguiled. “Y-yes! And what of you?!”

You opened your mouth, but no words came out. Huh, weird. “Looks like that’s a dead giveaway…” you muttered. Seems like the Thorn Fairy wasn’t going to make this easy for the two of you. But you got an idea. “Tomorrow at lunch, meet me in the botanical gardens! By the roses!”

You were snatched out from the land of dreams by your alarm going off, but you knew what you needed to do. You were ready to meet them. You were ready to meet your soul match.

…

…

Sebek was nervous. After so much he was finally going to meet his soul match. He knew he had seen those eyes somewhere before, been subjected to their teasing on several occasions, but the dreams kept your identity secret, shrouded in mystery. But now, now he and you would know. So why was he nervous? You had come to know him in your shared dreams, but Sebek was nervous that you would reject him once you knew who he truly was.

So he had arrived at the botanical garden in a sprint, having run from his class the moment the bell signified it was over. And it was empty, save for the butterflies and other pollinators that flitted about. It gave him time to gather his thoughts, and he paced by the roses, trying to place where he had seen you before. It was all so annoyingly familiar, it was on the tip of his tongue, but your face and name evaded him. Sebek wasn’t used to being nervous.

He had placed nervousness as weakness, as something human. He couldn’t afford to be nervous, not when he had a duty to the crown to fulfil. But maybe being nervous wasn’t bad. Maybe being human wasn’t bad. Yes, they were weak and had their faults, but that’s what made them beautiful. And Sebek realized and accepted that that was just as much a part of him as it was a part of you.

Sure, it was messy, but Sebek was coming to accept that part of himself because of you. And it would be a work in progress, as he had years of a combination of an inferiority and superiority complex due to the mixture of fae and human, but he was willing to work on it. Not just because of you though, it was a combination of you, accepting himself, and forgiving his father. 

He was mad at him for so long because it was easier to be mad than to love and then lose him. He was mad for his mother. But now he just wanted to say that he was sorry. That he loved him, that he loved him so much that he was scared of losing him. 

The door to the botanical garden opened, and Sebek froze. First impressions are everything! He was about to straighten himself up, but he remembered the last time. This wasn’t a first impression, you knew him, you’ve known him for a while. So, he relaxed, he took a seat on the bench next to the roses. And focused on calming his breathing.

A butterfly, a pale green butterfly, flew around his head before coming to rest on his shoulder, crawling leisurely until it got to a comfy spot, sitting above his heart.

He looked up from looking fondly at the small insect to find you, his soul match, standing in the middle of the path with a butterfly, the same colour as his, resting on your heart.

“I knew that you felt familiar! Ha ha!” You smiled, like you had just won something.

And Sebek felt the same. 

Fin!~

Author's Notes; I love Sebek, but I also like bugging him, so I kinda made the reader a menace in this one. Go forth! Be menaces in the world! Huzzah!

Tags; @xxoomiii, @eynnwwyjth, @twistwonderlanddevotee, @savanaclaw1996

Masterlist~

[baeshijima]

soulmate "we would find each other in every lifetime" au, but whenever you find each other there is always just a slight mistiming.

in some instances you meet mere moments before disaster strikes. in others you are forced to be enemies due to untimely misunderstandings. sometimes you only catch a glimpse of the other in passing before they disappear as though they never existed. there would be the odd occasion where only one of you recognised the other, with them not knowing who you are or of the history which haunts your conscience.

and then there would be times you find yourself desperately holding the other, the tears which burn tracks down your cheeks being the only source of warmth on their cold skin.

despite the unnerving predictability fate has in store for you, you both cannot help but to hope that maybe — just maybe — this next lifetime will be kinder to you both; kinder in a way that your souls are not torn apart before they can even meld together.

(though such sentiment never comes true, it doesn't stop the feeble hope from burning aflame when you cross paths every lifetime. repeatedly, incessantly, and without fail.)

[mx-myth]

Little thing I wrote because everyone was throwing prompts around on the discord and I got inspired.

When Laurence was young, it was disappointing to be markless. He was never content with not having a soulmate, even with the informal arrangement he had with Edith. He remembers conversations spent together, wondering how long they would have to wait before their soulmates would be born and for their mark to appear.

He cares much less about it now. Perhaps he had felt belated horror after the initial shock ran through his crew aboard the Reliant as Temeraire first spoke and as black scales bloomed across his face. Laurence had felt nothing at the time, no physical sensation to signify the appearance of his soulmark. It was only when Temeraire was eating that Riley had stepped up and quietly told him of what had occurred.

It had taken him a long time to come to terms with having a dragon as a soulmate. But now Laurence wears his mark with pride. Black scales cover his left cheek, reaching down his neck and over the majority of his chest, inked across three-quarters of his arm and stretching down to mid-thigh. It is a huge mark, which would be looked down upon in the polite society in which he was raised. But why wouldn't it be large, given that Temeraire has dominated his life since he entered it?

Laurence remembers being reassured upon meeting the other aviators. Harcourt has lilies blooming up and down her back, she's said, and at times he can glimpse the edges of petals peeking up out of her collar at her neck. Granby has an entire bicep encircled with fire, which became immediately self-explanatory when Iskierka hatched, and even more so when he lost part of his arm. Berkley, in contrast to how large Maximus is, has scales scattered across the backs of his hands in Regal Copper red. James has Volly's colours painted up and down his legs. The Rolands both have blue and orange and white over their cheekbones. Even Little, who Laurence counts as an acquaintance verging on friend, has Immortalis around his wrists. Very quickly he learned that it was more uncommon for an aviator and their dragon to not be soulmates; his large and prominent mark apparently did a lot of work smoothing his arrival in ways he was unconscious of in the beginning.

He had worried also in the beginning whether the rumor was true that dragons didn't have soulmarks. He was afraid of him and Temeraire being different, more so than they already were. But on that front so too were his concerns put to rest.

Perhaps he should have known better. After all, he had known as soon as he looked into Temeraire's blue eyes and seen the storming, crashing waters of the sea within them, no shore in sight as the sky wheeled overhead. It was the sight that made him fall in love with the sea the first time and, he thinks fondly, scratching Temeraire under his closed eye, the sight that made him fall in love with Temeraire too.

(I have a fountain pen and so it doesn't dry up I try and write a little bit every couple of days. Most of it is temeraire-related; I'm thinking the ones small enough to not be fics technically I might post)

[shieldofiron]

Soulmate au where you have your soulmates first words that you heard written on your body. But when Harringrove meet it’s at that loud as fuck party and Steve doesn’t hear so good out of one ear after Jonathan, so Steve’s arm just says, “Fucking pretty boy.”

And Billy knows, oh he knows. But that same pretty boy doesn’t seem to have actually heard him.

Meanwhile, Billy’s arm just says, “What?” Which could be anyone and Steve’s never been so jealous of anyone in his life.

[imtrashraccoon]

here’s a drabble idea!

Nightmare sans x dog monster! reader

so the premise is that the dear reader is a dog like doggo, greater dog, lesser dog, etc

and if we want to get REAL specific the dog breed reader is a konoki dog!

Hi! Thank you for submitting this idea!

I was shocked how quickly I managed to think of something for this prompt. I hope you don't mind that I made it a fantasy and soulmate au. I actually haven't written this sort of thing before and I am still buzzing with ideas.

I never heard of a Konoki dog before this and they look super cute! I haven't written this type of character before so I hope you like them. I certainly have fallen in love with them! (I affectionately call them Koko in my notes!)

By the way, I renamed Nightmare (and a few others!) for this to make him a more unique character. There's a note at the bottom for the meanings of their names too.

The Dark Fortress

Nightmare x Kokoni!Dog Monster Reader

Fantasy & Soulmate AU

Word Count: 6, 219

You woke up to the sound of rain softly pattering on your tent. The light was rather dim so you estimated the sun wasn't up just yet. Still, it couldn't hurt to get up and do some quick exercises before your day properly started.

The rain made the air smell good - slightly earthy with a hint of the harsher scent of ozone. The only bad thing was that you didn't like having wet fur, especially when on a mission, since it stuck to your armour and meant your weapon was harder to hang onto.

The scent in the air reminded you of a reoccurring dream that you'd been having your whole life. While the circumstances were different each time, there was always a distinctive smell present. It was earthy and sweet with aromatic undertones similar to liquorice or fennel. It was also slightly spicy or maybe salty was a better description? This smell seemed to belong to someone but you'd never been able to see what they looked like.

Not everyone believed in the concept of soulmates but you couldn't find any other explanation for why you kept dreaming about this one smell. There were instances where a few dogs had been plagued by a particular smell and then ended up finding their soulmate, but this was always in real life and never only in a dream.

With a sigh, you meticulously fastened the straps and buckles that held your armour together. While many of your fellow soldiers preferred full plate, you liked the mobility that light armour provided. This combined with your smaller size and slight frame made you the perfect scout or assassin for the Royal Guard.

You didn't have time this morning to contemplate the possibility of meeting your soulmate. You had a duty to perform and any distractions could put the lives of both you and your comrades in danger.

Your mission was to investigate the dark fortress that had appeared overnight a few months ago in the neighboring Kingdom of Shiftingtails. The kingdom's forces had apparently been completely overrun and destroyed in a matter of days. Word on the conditions inside the country had been scarce but the handful of refugees that had made it out all told harrowing tales of their escape.

Whatever magic that had created the fortress was dangerous. It corrupted the land, killing both plants and animals alike, so that nothing could survive. It was said that it could kill people as well but no one knew exactly how. There were also accounts of the dark horde and their master but no one could decide on what they looked like.

Some claimed that an army of the dead suddenly came to life and raided their homes. Others claimed there were only three skeletons responsible for the destruction. Yet there were other accounts of a single skeleton covered in the dark fortress' corruption with black tendrils. No one wanted to talk about this one any more than they had to though.

You hadn't known what to make of the accounts at first, but the deeper you and your comrades pressed into enemy territory, the more truth they seemed to hold. Thankfully, the Royal Scientist had found a way to counteract the majority of the corruption's effects, so as long as the protective coating on your armour remained intact, you would be safe.

It didn't ease your anxiety though and you knew that your comrades were also suffering from restlessness. It had been days since you had even been in combat, even longer since killing anything, and you just wanted to get this over with.

You weren't particularly bloodthirsty but even you had to admit that you secretly enjoyed the rush that came whenever a person died by your hand. It wasn't something that you went out of your way to do, even though being a soldier often put you in those situations. Everyone knew that while sometimes unavoidable, gaining EXP and especially LV, was a slippery slope to insanity. And so during basic training, it was stressed that it was preferable to incapacitate your foes and only kill as a last resort.

You emerged from your tent and stretched your limbs. It seemed like a few of your fellow soldiers were already up and about, which meant another day of marching was upon you. At least you were within sight of the dark fortress now. It wouldn't be long before you would be able to hear the satisfying sound of your meteor hammer crushing bones and inhale the scent of fresh blood again.

~ ~ /⁠ᐠ⁠｡⁠ꞈ⁠｡⁠ᐟ⁠\ ~ ~

Breaching the gate had been difficult but not impossible.

There had been a small horde of tall black skeletons but against the heavily armoured likes of your fellow guardsmen, they were soon cut down. While the skeletons had also been heavily armoured and wielded greataxes, a well placed blow was pretty much all it took to fell them. Even you managed to take one down, although its body didn't turn to dust and simply faded away, and you didn't even get any EXP from it.

That was strange but not unusual if they were merely summons and not actual monsters. Still, whoever summoned them must have an immense mana pool, especially if they were also the one who'd created the dark fortress in the first place.

The moment you and your fellow soldiers entered the courtyard, you were suddenly set upon by three assailants. They were fast, and with how easily they could dodge attacks or appear behind you, must have some form of instant teleportation ability.

You were forced to fight back to back with Sir Draco, which meant your ranged attacks were less effective since you had to be mindful of your meteor hammer's arc. Your own mana was limited so you were forced to fend off blows with your trusty dagger, which you normally only used for finishing off your enemies.

The three skeletons looked similar, like they could be cousins, but at the same time they were quite different from each other. They were on a whole other level from the dark hordes earlier and you were starting to worry that this could soon turn hairy.

Greater and Lesser Dog were currently taking on a giant of skeleton who had half his skull caved in, a blood red eyelight in his left socket, and wielded a massive, wicked-looking greataxe. He wore a suit of mismatched armour of various materials and styles that had been pieced together seemingly at random. It looked to be mostly plate and hide armour though.

Captain Undyne and Sir Bunbun were holding off a wiry skeleton, who had what looked like corruption pouring out of his eye sockets, a crimson glowing target floating above his chest, and wielded nothing but a cruel dagger as well as his own magic against them. He wore a form-fitting suit of black leather armour that was reminiscent of what the former Shiftingtails Kingdom's scouts used to wear.

You and Sir Draco were focusing on a shorter skeleton who was constantly switching between bone attacks and trying to stab both of you with a well-polished shortsword. He had red eyelights but the left one also had a ring of blue and he wore a red cuirass with a hood and dusty chainmail over top.

"Fall back!" You heard Captain Undyne shout. "We can't let them separate us!"

You and your comrades began shifting towards the gate in an attempt to keep them from attacking your flanks. Although, you'd only taken a few steps when your nose caught a particularly familiar scent. It was sharp, earthy and yet sweet at the same time - the exact scent from your dreams. But where was it coming from?

You noticed a flicker of red out of the corner of your eye and just managed to dodge yet another strike from the hooded skeleton. He scowled and you bared your teeth in response before he darted out of your reach again. He smelled like smoke and death so it certainly wasn't him.

"Come on, pup. If we don't move now, they'll cut us off from the others," Sir Draco rumbled as he blocked another volley of bone bullets with his shield.

You sniffed the air intently, barely hearing what he'd said. That scent...they were here somewhere... Your soulmate was here!

Without really thinking, you darted off in the direction that you were certain the scent was coming from, disregarding the fact that you were also running away from your comrades. You just managed to dodge a bone bullet the hooded skeleton summoned, although it did graze your side. You could hear Undyne shouting at you to return but you didn't listen and kept running. It seemed like no one was actually chasing after you but you could still hear the clash of weapons at the gate, so maybe your comrades had kept them occupied?

The scent was coming from further inside the fortress and only grew stronger the further you ventured, until you managed to slip into a dark building and close the door behind you.

Your paws were great at muffling your footsteps and thanks to your nose, you knew that you were close to the source of the scent. You stepped cautiously around furniture and through passageways until you entered the largest library you'd ever seen.

There was light here, from various lanterns and candles peppered throughout the room, which you were grateful for since you couldn't really see in the dark, although you couldn't help but feel uneasy. You slipped between bookshelves and your ears twitched as you strained to hear the slightest sound. Other than the clinking of the length of chain in your paws and that of your own armour, everything seemed quiet.

Too quiet.

The scent was everywhere and you were starting to have a hard time pinpointing which direction to keep moving in. The fur on the back of your neck suddenly stood on end and you quickly turned, only to come face to face with another skeleton.

He was covered in corruption and four tendrils undulated restlessly behind his back. He wore no armour but underneath the black ooze he seemed to be wearing fancy clothing. He had a gold circlet on his skull and a single cyan eyelight in his left eye socket, as his right was covered by the ooze.

You had barely registered his appearance when he lashed out with his tentacles, slamming you against a nearby bookshelf. You let out a yelp from the impact and heard your meteor hammer clatter to the ground as you lost your grip on the chain.

"Who let a mutt into my home?" the skeleton hissed.

You squirmed but your attempts to escape only caused his tendrils to coil tighter around your body, until it was difficult to breathe.

He drew closer until you were only a few inches apart and narrowed his good eye socket at you. "Are you even a soldier?"

Your eyes widened as it occurred to you that the smell that had haunted you for years was from him. He was your soulmate. Him...the one who'd overthrown an entire country singlehandedly was your one and only.

You pawed at the tendrils around your body. "You're... You're the one..." you managed to gasp.

His smile widened and he let out an amused chuckle. "I'm what? I assure you that whatever you're about to say, I've heard it all before." He let out a sigh and loosened the grasp his tentacles had on you ever so slightly. "But I suppose I can humour you a little bit..."

You couldn't help but cough the moment you could breath properly again. After taking in several lungfuls of air, you looked up at him before trying to explain.

"You're the one I've been dreaming about all my life. My soulmate..."

He stared at you for what felt like an eternity but in reality was probably only a minute. He raised his bonebrows slightly but otherwise showed no further reaction to this revelation.

"Well... That's actually a new one." He chuckled and stepped back a bit but noticeably didn't let go of you. "My apologies, it seems I underestimated you slightly. You're amusing at the very least..."

You huffed and crossed your arms. "I'm serious! I've been looking for so long and now I've actually found you."

He rolled his eyelight before giving you an odd look. "I don't believe you. I don't have a soulmate," he muttered.

"Of course you do! I wouldn't have sought you out if we weren't meant to be together!"

"It's not possible, alright?"

"But-"

His tendrils suddenly constricted once more, although your ability to breath wasn't as impeded this time. You couldn't possibly break out of his hold now and you were all but forced to stay still.

"I mean it," he growled. "Now, I'm going to ask you some questions and you're going to tell me the truth, understand?"

"Yeah, okay. Just, not so tight please?"

He pointedly ignored your request as if you hadn't said anything at all. "Why are you actually here?"

"My comrades and I were ordered to investigate this place and if possible, take down the source of the corruption. Although, it seems that's you, isn't it?"

"Yes, I am. My name is Lord Donovan, the new ruler of this land." There was a twinge of pride in his voice and he puffed out his ribcage slightly. "Where are your comrades?"

You didn't like how ominous his tone sounded but there was no reason to lie to him. "They're probably still fighting your men at the gate, at least they were before I caught your scent and sought you out."

He gave you an incredulous look. "You broke rank on the off chance that I was your so called soulmate? What a foolish thing to do, almost as foolish as coming here in the first place."

You wrinkled your nose and let out a frustrated huff. "You are my soulmate!" you growled. "How many times do I have to tell you that before it gets through your thick skull?!"

He abruptly yanked you closer until your foreheads were nearly touching, but so that he was leering down at you. "Listen well, mutt. I am not your soulmate. I am an entity of pure hatred and spite. I am incapable of love or any remotely positive feeling for that matter."

"S-surely there's a way to find out?" you whimpered.

He sighed and ran his hand over his face. "Yes, there is a divination ritual that can be performed, but such a thing takes time, something you don't have right now."

You squirmed in his grip. "I don't need some fancy ritual to prove that you're wrong. If you just, let me go for a moment, I'll show you."

He eyed you warily before taking a glance around the library. "Fine, but don't try anything. I would prefer if you didn't ruin any of these tomes with your useless dust."

You gave him a curt nod, although the casual threat wasn't lost on you. "Same goes for you."

He released his tendrils, dropping you unceremoniously to the ground but you managed to land your feet. After straightening your armour and retrieving the weapon you'd dropped earlier, you turned back to him again.

Lord Donovan stood with arms crossed and a critical expression on his face. "I'm surprised that you would risk turning your back on an enemy," he commented.

You chuckled, "Well, you just said that you didn't want to ruin these books."

He narrowed his eye socket. "I could've lied..."

You snorted but chose not to needle him further. Instead, you took a deep breath and closed your eyes before pressing a paw against your chestplate.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm baring my soul to you. What does it look like?" you retorted.

You could feel him judging you but he made no move to interrupt. "You're a fool," he finally stated.

You ignored him and drew your soul out, letting the upside down white heart float lazily in your palm. It wasn't perfect like it had once been but the faint cracks spoke of the many battles you'd survived to get to this point. You could even see your stats, which was only further proof of your strength and the deeds you'd committed for it.

When you met his gaze again, you noticed that he looked a bit uncomfortable. His permanent grin had fallen and he was doing his best not to look at your soul directly. He actually reminded you a little of a bashful child at the moment.

"How does this," he vaguely gestured at you, "actually prove anything?"

You had to grit your teeth to keep from laughing at him. Had he never been taught how these things worked? Even an eight year old could understand the significance of baring your soul to your fated.

"The frequency of our souls are the same and that means we are soulmates," you responded.

He scoffed at that. "I'm not showing you my soul."

"Come on... If you'll just do this one thing, you'll know that I'm right!"

He frowned and shook his skull.

"Please, I'm not trying to trick you..." When he made no move to respond, you sighed and held out your paws. "I understand that you don't trust me; I probably wouldn't either if I was in your position. You can hold my hands if you want, I promise I won't hurt you."

He eyed them for a moment. "Fine...but on one condition..."

You nodded vigorously, "Of course!"

"If you really want to see my soul, then I can't have you leave, at least not alive... Are you actually willing to give up everything, including your friends and family, on something as improbable as being soulmates?"

"With all due respect, I am a soldier. I live each day as if it were my last, as does my family. When I was ordered to come here, I did so knowing that I likely wouldn't return and if this is the price I must pay to find my soulmate, then I am willing."

He seemed to consider your words for a moment before meeting your eyes again. His cyan eyelight flickered for a moment before a new look crossed his face. It almost seemed like one of respect but you couldn't entirely be sure.

"Very well then, if you're certain you won't live to regret it."

He hesitated for a moment but when you didn't pull away, he stepped closer and coiled two of his tendrils around your wrists. His grip was firm but surprisingly gentle and he lifted your paws over your head, so there was no way for you to attack him. In this position, your height discrepancy was much more obvious and you felt rather small next to him.

You felt completely exposed like this, even though you were still wearing your armour. Having your soul floating freely with no way to shield it from anyone else's eyes was honestly a little terrifying. He could strike you down in an instant and there wouldn't be anything you could do about it.

Lord Donovan brought his hand to his ribcage, mimicking the gesture you had made earlier. He focused for a second before pulling his own soul from his body. It wasn't shaped anything like you'd expected, instead it was more oblong than heart-shaped, much like the cross section of an apple. It was jet black with a cyan flare around the edges and seemed like it too was coated in corruption like the rest of his body.

You couldn't help but find his soul oddly beautiful but you kept your comments to yourself for a moment. Instead, you watched him calmly for what he'd do next.

He seemed to be contemplating something before gingerly bringing his soul closer to your own. You were thankful that he didn't let them touch, instead holding it a few inches away.

You waited with baited breath.

At first, your souls simply floated there, slowly thrumming with latent mana.

Suddenly you felt an intense pulse pass through your soul.

It was unlike anything you'd ever felt before, although slightly similar to the high that you'd experienced a few times when your LV increased, except way better. There was a rush of power but also a strong euphoric feeling that made all your uneasiness ebb away.

Donovan seemed utterly stunned. His cyan eyelight had shrunk down at least two sizes and he stood stock still like a statue.

"You felt that?" you whispered, although you couldn't keep yourself from grinning like a maniac.

He seemed completely at a loss for words and it took him a moment to even register that you'd asked a question at all. "I... Yes...I felt that..."

"Do you believe me now?"

"You were right about the frequency being the same..." He finally tore his gaze away from your souls and gave you an intense look. "You can't leave me."

You chuckled and tried to move your arms, only to remember that he still had you restrained. "A deal's a deal. I saw your soul and we're soulmates now; seems fair to me."

"Indeed..." he murmured, before guiding his soul back into his ribcage. You noticed that he hesitated to do the same for you.

You chuckled softly at his apparent awkwardness. "I can do it myself if you'd rather not, you'll just have to let me go first."

"No, it's fine..." He took great care not to graze your soul with his claws as he returned it to it's proper place in your chest. His movements were rather stiff though, almost like he was handling fine china and was afraid of smashing it.

His hand lingered for a moment, as if he was debating if he should actually touch you or not, before pulling away. "Forgive me...but this is a lot to take in at the moment. I never thought-" He cut himself off and changed the subject. "I never even asked for your name..."

You smiled and told him your name as his tendrils around your arms loosened, allowing you to lower them back to your sides, but not actually letting go just yet. The tips wound softly through your fingers like they were curious or maybe they just wanted to hold you like a lover might.

"I suppose there is still the matter of your former comrades." He looked off in the direction you thought the gate was in before asking a question. "How would you prefer I deal with them?"

You felt your heartbeat quicken. "I'd prefer they leave with their lives, but knowing Captain Undyne, she wouldn't give up until every one of her men got out safely."

"That poses a problem," he hummed and tapped his mandible thoughtfully. "As my own won't quit until they eliminate all resistance."

Your eyes widened in surprise. "Maybe I could talk to my comrades and convince them to leave?"

"No." His expression darkened and he turned back to you. "They won't leave if they see that you're alive."

"So what do we do?"

He thought for a moment before turning to leave the library, tugging you along with his tentacles. "I have an idea, come with me."

You let out a small yip as you nearly stumbled over your own hind feet while trying to follow him. He spared you a glance over his shoulder but kept quickly moving through the dark passageways. He did mercifully let go of one of your arms so you would have a bit more balance though.

He led you into a room that, from the shelves of tonics and the racks of drying herbs, reminded you of an apothecary. The various herbs and ingredients all melded together into a slightly musty smell that you weren't fond of.

Donovan pulled a specific vial down from the shelf and brought it over to the work bench. You walked over and leaned against it to see what he was doing. After adding a few ingredients and swirling it together, he turned back to you.

"I need you to trust me..." He trailed off and glanced away before muttering, "Not that I've done anything to deserve your trust so far..."

You gave him a gentle smile and stepped closer to put your paw on his arm. He inadvertently jumped at the contact but didn't pull away.

"Of course I trust you. Whatever your plan is, I'll go along with it."

His bonebrows furrowed and he lightly stroked the fur on the side of your face with his claws. "Can I have your dagger?"

"I'm surprised you even noticed I had one," you chuckled as you drew the blade from its sheath and held it out to him.

He hummed and took it from your grasp. "I think you'll find that there isn't much that escapes my attention." He eyed the sharp edge for a moment before glancing back at you. "How attached are you to this?"

You frowned slightly. Your dagger wasn't too special to the naked eye but it had served you well ever since you'd been gifted it after your first successful mission. Even though it wasn't your primary weapon, any of your comrades would recognize it as yours if they saw it.

"It's just a dagger," you answered. "It's a small sacrifice to be with you forever."

He watched you for a moment before nodding. "Very well. This will hurt, but I'm only going to do what's necessary for you to be free of them."

You felt his tendrils coil around your body, cradling and holding you in place. He caressed your face and seemed to study your eyes for a second longer. You took a steadying breath and nodded.

And then he ran you through with the dagger.

You should've found something to bite down on before agreeing to this but your scream of pain was cut off when he abruptly yanked you into a kiss. It was a rough kiss and, if he wasn't holding you in place, you might've fallen over from the forcefulness.

He pulled away quickly and pressed the vial to your lips. It had a harsh taste but you managed to get it down without choking. Almost immediately, you felt an odd warmth flood your body and your eyelids began to grow heavy.

Lord Donovan laid you down on a bed that hadn't been in the room and you wondered if he'd brought you somewhere else. You knew he'd just inflicted what would normally be a mortal wound but somehow your body wasn't falling to pieces. If it weren't for the pain and sudden exhaustion, you probably could've run a mile. Whatever was in that tonic was obviously far stronger than any healing potion you'd ever been able to afford.

Your gaze met his own and when you held eye contact, he seemed relieved. He still held your dagger but it was thoroughly coated in what you instinctively knew was your own dust so that not even the handle was spared. He then took it in two of his tendrils and snapped the blade in half, as if it were nothing but a twig and not hardened steel.

Your shocked expression must've been concerning as he frowned and moved closer to you again. He combed his claws through the fur between your ears in a comforting manner.

"I'm sorry, but this needs to be as convincing as possible if they are to leave and not return in some foolhardy attempt to rescue you."

You swallowed thickly and managed to nod.

"Rest now, I will deal with them myself. You have my word that they won't be unnecessarily harmed."

You were out before he even left the room.

~ ~ /⁠ᐠ⁠｡⁠ꞈ⁠｡⁠ᐟ⁠\ ~ ~

You awoke to the sound of several unknown voices. There was a loud voice that spoke the most and the fastest, a softer and more raspy voice that occasionally answered the first's questions, and then there was a third much deeper voice who only spoke in clipped one word answers. They immediately fell quiet as soon as they realized that you were awake.

When you risked cracking open your eyes, you came face to face with one of the skeletons from earlier, specifically the one that had corruption leaking from his eye sockets. His skull took up most of your field of view but you could just barely make out the other two skeletons near the doorway.

"well well, look who's finally awake~" he teased.

You narrowed your eyes at him. "I suppose so. Now can you back up a bit?"

He smirked but mercifully stepped away from the bed so you could sit up. Your armour had been removed at some point although you were still wearing your tunic. You would likely need new gear after Donovan stabbed you anyways, but you didn't like being in the same room as three very dangerous people while unprotected.

There was still some pain but you seemed perfectly fine otherwise. Maybe later you'd have to check where the wound had been to see how it had healed. You could feel that a bandage had been wrapped around your abdomen but that was all that seemed to have happened.

"so, word is you and the boss are thick as thieves all of the sudden..."

You glanced up at him sharply. There was no point in denying it but should you really tell them why he'd spared your life?

He chuckled and glanced over at the other two, who seemed like they could care less. "we've just been dying to meet you, haven't we?"

The large skeleton huffed and the hooded one merely rolled his eyelights.

He didn't seem phased by their lackluster enthusiasm and soon turned back to you again. "you got a name then, cutie?" he asked way too sweetly.

You raised your head and squared your shoulders before introducing yourself.

"aw, it suits you!" He grinned, although it was a tad too wide. "i suppose introductions are in order then..."

"the big guy goes by maul," he said and pointed him out to you. He bent down to whisper in your ear, "he doesn't talk much, but between you and me, it's rumoured that he used to be the headsman during the coup in the horrur kingdom."

You believed it. The way you'd seen him swing that greataxe was proof enough of his strength. You were curious how he got the head wound if he was just the executor, but you weren't about to ask.

Maul's single red eyelight observed you coolly before he nodded slightly. At least he didn't seem like he wanted to tear you apart right away.

"mr. broody goes by reven." He directed your attention to the skeleton in question before repeating what he'd done earlier. "pretty sure he still wears his old paladin armour, despite breaking his oath after his brother got dusted. he's the one responsible for the crimson stabbings, didn't you know?"

You pulled the sheets slightly closer and swallowed nervously. You remembered how afraid everyone had been during that time and how at a loss your superiors had been. The murders had gone on for years before just stopping without any conclusion being reached.

Reven narrowed his eye sockets suspiciously but he seemed to like the effect that his supposed reputation had on you.

"it's actually kinda impressive you held him off for as long as you did back there~"

Reven scowled at his loud mouthed compatriot's words and crossed his arms. You certainly didn't feel proud of yourself and if it wasn't for Sir Draco, you knew he would've overwhelmed you quickly.

Trying to distract yourself, you turned to the last unnamed skeleton in the room, who was still a bit to close for your comfort. "And who are you?" you asked.

"You can call me Dirk, or anything else you feel partial to~" He practically beamed at the revelation that you were even remotely interested in his backstory. "I used to run with some brigands and we made a decent killing for a while. Although, I was always meant for something more than that boring life so I killed them instead."

You didn't know what you had been expecting but how flippant he was about committing murder was more than a little unsettling. You really shouldn't have been so surprised though.

"Your armour doesn't belong to you, does it?" you asked carefully.

"oh yeah." He grinned before adding, "i stabbed a guy for it!"

You ran a hand down your face and sighed. "Of course, why did I think you would've done anything otherwise?"

In an effort to change the subject, you glanced at the others and asked a different question. "What happened to...my companions?"

Neither Maul nor Reven seemed interested in answering although the latter suppressed a small chuckle.

Dirk pulled a face and shook his skull. "they ran like cowards," he muttered.

You frowned. "That doesn't sound quite right. Are you sure?"

"well... the fish lady got pretty mad when the boss revealed that you were 'dead'..." He made finger quotes and chuckled. "she actually tried to fight him but he taught her a lesson real quick."

Reven chuckled as well. "she had to be hauled away by the rest of them..." he muttered under his breath.

You felt your heart drop. Donovan had promised that he wouldn't kill them, but you still couldn't help feeling concerned. What if she succumbed to her injuries before getting to safety?

"hey."

You glanced over at Dirk and immediately noticed that his permanent grin had fallen slightly.

"how do we know that you didn't just trick the boss into thinking you two are... what's it called?" he paused for emphasis before continuing, "soulmates, or some other dumb crap?"

He took a step closer to the bed and you inadvertently tried to back away from him. Seeing movement out of the corner of your eye, you noticed that the other two had seemed to take interest as well. Maul stayed by the door, although his grin widened in an unsettling way and he crossed his arms. Reven narrowed his eye sockets and took a few steps closer.

"Of course not! I wouldn't-"

Your protest was cut off when Donovan suddenly materialized on your other side. The boys paused and turned to look at him, although at first he said nothing and shot each of them a look of displeasure. Without saying a word, he wrapped your body up in a few of his tendrils and pulled you closer to him.

"If any of you so much as look at my soulmate wrong, I will not hesitate to strip your souls from your miserable bodies and torment you for eternity," he growled quietly.

You felt a shiver run down your spine but his threat seemed to have an effect on the boys. Maul glanced away and Reven seemed to visibly deflate. Dirk seemed to grow uncomfortable but outwardly didn't appear intimidated.

Donovan eyed each of them for several long seconds before he turned to you and seemed to visibly relax. He gave you what was supposed to be a comforting smile but it still looked a little scary on him.

"I didn't go for a killing blow but holding back is a little difficult for me. She'll probably just lose an eye if treated properly," he stated. His tone came across as pretty ominous but you did feel some relief that he'd at least attempted to keep his word.

"Thank you, I appreciate that you still tried."

~ ~ /⁠ᐠ⁠｡⁠ꞈ⁠｡⁠ᐟ⁠\ ~ ~

Later, once you were properly healed, Dirk approached you in the common area while you were attempting to salvage what you could from your old armour. You inadvertently tensed up but he flashed you a smile that was probably supposed to look friendly.

"so, i've been thinking," he started to say.

You raised an eyebrow. "That's worrying," you responded with an awkward laugh.

Across the room, you heard Reven snicker but he didn't bother trying to join in.

Dirk's smile grew wider. "heh... anyways, each of us has a place on the team. maul is the muscle, reven is good with both melee and ranged fighting, and i'm the assassin but i dabble in ranged attacks too. so, what do you do?"

You took a moment to think it over. You wanted to get along with them and if proving yourself a competent teammate would help, you were determined to do your best.

"Well, I'm generally a forward scout but I'm more than capable of holding my own in melee combat."

Dirk nodded, "fun! i guess we'll have to eventually come up with a nickname for you." He held out his hand and tilted his skull all the while smirking at you. "welcome to the dark fortress."

You grasped his hand and smiled. Maybe you'd like being here a lot more than you originally thought.

Notes:

A meteor hammer is kind of like a flail. It is a weapon with one or two weights attached to a length of chain. It may be impractical, but I had a distinct mental picture of MC swinging it around that I loved.

Donovan is an Irish name and means dark warrior.

Maul is actually named after the weapon of the same name (although the verb is kinda fitting too!).

Reven is short for revenant and a nod to one of the coolest characters in Star Wars (Darth Revan).

Dirk is named for a type of dagger.

Did you catch what kingdom was taken over by Donovan and his gang? I had a hard time coming up with one that made sense so Storyshift it was. In this world, each AU is its own kingdom, meaning pretty much every major AU can and probably does exist somewhere or somehow.

[shhh-secret-time]

We're back with another Soulmate AU request AND another request from AO3, they're so rare these days! I wanted to do something special for Craig, I kind of feel like he'd be a fuck destiny kinda guy. Anyway y'all know the drill.

Warning: Hot Pokemon takes, Strong-Language, Clyde being a dork again

Pairing: Craig x GN!Reader

Crack

"Hm.."

Snap

"Dude. Stop."

Pop

"Dude! Stop!"

Clyde's voice pulls Craig's gaze over, the bored expression on his face would normally make anyone flinch back but Clyde's used to the look. Years of friendship with the stoic man will desensitize anyone to that kind of look. Craig swears it's just because Clyde's an idiot, no one else in South Park takes that kind of tone with him.

"You sound like a glow-stick over there! I swear you've already popped all those fingers a minute ago, are you on your knuckles now or something?" Clyde puts his DS down on his lap with a grumble.

He's slouched so far down on Craig's couch it looks like he's melting into it, the lower half of his body is barely on the couch at all. He's all but holding himself up with his legs while his back rests on the firm cushions beneath him. He looked like a slinky being tossed down the stairs, but if it got stuck going down a step.

"You're in my house." Craig responded so matter of fact.

Then he finished cracking the hand he was in the middle of working on. He presses his thumb against each finger on his hand. Once each little finger makes that satisfying sound, he wraps his hand around the other and squeezes. His thumb and index finger settle just below the knuckles, feeling the muscles and bone shift under his grip a shiver runs down his spine.

"Gaaaaaah! That doesn't hurt you? You're gonna fuck up your hands man." Clyde physically squirms at the sound, twisting and rolling back and forth as if he's trying to escape the sound.

"No. I like it." Craig picks his DS up from his lap and continues playing on the little handheld device.

"Alright but when you have old grandpa hands at the age of twenty-five don't come crying to me. Spongebob broken finger head-ass." Clyde smirks, returning to the game with his friend.

Craig side eyes him, shooting a small glare his direction but it goes unnoticed. Once again, Clyde is lucky he's one of his best friends. Being stupid makes you brave apparently.

The two fall into a comfortable silence, the music from Clyde's DS playing loudly while Craig's is shut off. The sound of both games going on at once drove Craig mad. If the music didn't line up it felt like someone jabbing him in the head. So, he settled for listening to Clyde's, he knew the brown-haired man liked the Pokemon sound track anyway. A small tradition they started in middle school that's held up. Playing Pokemon next to each other on the weekends, if one got Green the other got Red. If one got Sapphire, the other got Ruby. Right now, Craig has Diamond, and he has Pearl.

Craig was no means a perfectionist, but something about the incomplete Pokedex drove him mad. He hated looking at the black silhouette of a Pokemon uncaught, the taunting ??? made him want to spike the thing into the ground. They would spend hours next to one another talking about their teams, racing to see who could beat the Elite Four before the other, making fun of each other's favorite Pokemon. Craig long since beat the game and was just waiting on Clyde to catch up, he was still waiting on Clyde to catch his Slowpoke like he promised him forever ago.

Clyde was a Slowpoke.

He chuckles at the thought making Clyde look up at him with his brow raised but he chooses not to say anything. After a while Craig closes his DS and chooses to watch Clyde walk around the tall grass.

"You're using the Scyther I traded you?" he asks, resting his cheek on top of Clyde's head. Holding himself up right now sounded exhausting, Clyde made the perfect head rest. Even if he wasn't slumped down on the couch, their height difference allowed for it. To be fair Craig's height difference allowed him to do this to just about anyone. The only person he couldn't comfortably do this too would be Broflovski.

"Yeah! He’s my favorite! He's a handsome devil, reminds me of myself!" Clyde tucks his chin in between his index finger and his thumb, the smug smirk on his lips makes his face look stupid.

"Do you wanna evolve him? You can trade him over and we can turn him into a Scizor."

"Nah, then I'll lose all the affection I've been building him with! Look I've got two little hearts by his head! He loves me man!"

"You can build it back."

"Maybe you can toss away your Pokemon’s affection, but not me Tucker! He doesn't need to change! He's perfect the way he is!" Clyde exclaims as he throws his hand in the air.

Craig's about to respond but stops when Clyde encounters another Pokemon, a Pachirisu nothing out of the normal. But what was out of the normal was the stripe on its tail wasn't the typical baby blue, it was a bright pink. Craig's eyes widen as the sparkles swirl around the little animated creature.

And typical Clyde just button mashes through the whole thing, he's not paying attention to the DS, going on about his love for his Scyther. His thumb moves over the attack button and Craig wants to grab his hand to stop him. But once again he's not fast enough, and the low leveled thing is easily defeated by his level sixty something Pokemon.

"Um dude...you know I love hugs and all, but I thought you hated them?" Clyde's voice is muffled under Craig. Craig has him pinned under him against the couch, chest pressed into his side, arm outstretched to grab the DS.

"Dude! That was a shiny! You could have caught that!" Craig's exclaims shaking the man under him.

"What?! Oh man! I didn't know!"

"How the fuck didn't you know?! It sparkled! It's fucking pink!"

"Uh...was it?"

"What?" Craig stops shaking him at that, tightened fists around his collar loosen only slightly.

"I didn't know, you know I'm color-blind right?" Clyde takes the opportunity to sit up, he chuckles at Craig's expression.

Although rare, it's not unheard of. Craig isn't a robot, or a man born without emotions, he just has a hard time expressing them sometimes. Clyde knows that, but it's still funny every time he sees that crack in Craig's usual stoic nature. Even more so that it was over a stupid video game and Clyde's inability to see color.

So instead of responding to him Craig shakes his head and furrows his brows, confusion written clear on his face.

"Yeah man," Clyde takes a breath in between cackling. "I'm completely color blind, lost it when we were in high school. It's my soulmate thing. I see in black and white now." He waves his hand over his face with a dorky grin.

He doesn't respond at first, taking a moment to take in what his best friend was saying. "I just thought you dressed like that on purpose."

"Come on dude! Would it kill you to say something nice to me?! Just oNCE!?" Clyde smacks him with the cushion tucked behind him which Craig uses to beat him back.

After a brutal beat down using a couch cushion, Craig pulls back the weapon and looks down at the defeated pile of Donovan further pressed into his couch. He sits back with his leg pulled up towards his chest, arm thrown lazily across his knee.

"So, you can't see color because you haven't met your soulmate? That sounds rough."

"Yeah, it kinda sucks, it's gonna sound gay but I miss seeing things like the sunset and movies are kinda lame now. I still wear this jacket because at least I know it's red." Clyde collects himself and tries to fix his hair that's been flattened down.

"Hm." A low grunt and Craigs on his feet.

To anyone else it would be the end of the conversation, it would be their que to move on and talk about something else. But Clyde isn't just anyone. He's the guy who's been with Craig since they were kids, he knows that grunt. That shift in body language. Craig's uncomfortable but wants to say something.

"Come on Tucker Bear don't be like that, tell me what's going on." The nickname earns him a glare, but it stops the black haired man from going to the kitchen. He grins at him in return, telling Craig that he's getting what he wants.

"What have I told you about calling me that?"

"That you love it so much and you're so grateful that your best friend would give you the best nickname ever." The sentence is almost cut short from the way he scrambles back away from Craig, holding his hands up defensively. His voice is cracking from the way he tries to keep the giggle out of it.

Craig stops and sighs, his hands come up to the strings on the side of his hat. The frayed yellow rope splitting at the ends from how often he twists it between his fingertips. He does it when he needs to collect his thoughts, figure out a way to put them into words.

".... you didn't tell me you got your Soulmate thing." It finally comes out in a soft tone.

"Are you upset because I didn't tell you? I'm sorry man." Clyde's silly demeanor drops, quickly shifting to one that matches his friend’s tone. He stands up and follows him into the kitchen.

"No. I just..." A pause and he opens the fridge door. Scanning the inside for something to drink, his mouth is incredibly dry right now. "...didn't know. I thought you were like me."

"Like you?"

"Like...born without a mark or whatever."

"Oh."

That's all he can say, all that comes out of his mouth. Craig snaps the can of soda open and takes a sip and it feels like a rock settling in his stomach. His lips press together tasting the sugary drink on his lips. The rock in his stomach lurches up when he sees Clyde's eyes well up with tears, little beads of water spilling from his lids. For the second time that day, he makes Craig's eyes widen.

"Are you crying?"

He quickly goes to wipe the tears away from his brown eyes, the little orbs always looked like a baby cow's. Using the sleeves on his jacket, he sniffles and looks up at him. "It's just- you don't have a soulmate!"

"Yeah, I know."

"That's so sad dude!"

"I guess."

He sobs again, the tears spill faster and harder down his face. Craig sighs and gives into the over dramatic man an awkward pat on the back. The rest of the day was spent calming Clyde down and reassuring him that he wasn't actually angry at him for killing the shiny. They watch a few episodes of Red Racer where Craig describes the colors for him until he got tired of it.

All through the day the conversation gnawed at the back of his head. It followed him to bed and kept him from sleeping. Clyde refused to go home so he spent the night on the floor next to him. Didn't want to sleep on the couch but didn't want to sleep in the bed with him. Wanted to be near but not close enough to make Craig want to peel his skin off. He appreciated the idiot.

But it was that idiots fault he was thinking so hard on this. Why was he born without a soul-mate tic, or thing or whatever the fuck it was called. Were there others like him or was Craig Tucker really that just unlucky? Why did he care so much, he made it this far in life by himself. So why was it just now starting to eat at him?

With a huff he turned and rolled over towards the window next to his bed, staring up at the night sky. The moon was half full today, and it was cloudy out so he could barely see the stars. He was a grown man majoring in Astronomy, he didn't need a stupid mark to tell him where to go and who to be with. He could still see color fine. No flowers were blooming out of his face making his allergies act up.

No, it was just him. Just him and whatever was out there waiting for him. Right now, he really wanted it to be sleep.

Eventually he gave in to the tired behind his eyes, lids so heavy he couldn’t keep them open anymore but burned when he finally closed them. Clyde was gone the next morning when he finally woke up, he left him a text saying he was going to pick his sister up and do something with her.

It didn't matter he had class to get to anyway, the semester was in full swing, and he didn't have time to fall behind. As he gets ready, pulling his blue hat over his head and the matching NASA jacket over his shoulders, he peers down at his DS left on the side table. He picks it up and tucks it into the pockets of the jacket, in between classes he could wait in the lounge and play on it a little more. There wasn't much left to do but he could always grind his team to a hundred.

Once he feels ready, he steps out of his house and starts the walk to the bus stop. Ever since he moved out of his parents the walk to the college campus took a little longer than normal, so it was easier to just ride the bus there. He sticks his headphones in and settles in the worn-out seats of the dirty looking white bus. Somehow cleaner than the yellow ones from when he was still a teenager, but not by much. The music from his DS playing in his ears drowns out the sounds of people mumbling to themselves and whatever other weird thing South Park could throw at him.

It also drowns out your footsteps. Drowns out your question if the seat next to him was taken. So, it isn't until he feels you sitting next to him that he notices you're there. He side-eyes you for a moment, which you return with a little nod. A part of him is relieved when you don't immediately try to make small talk with him. Instead, you offer him a little smile and go back to the book in your hand. His amber eyes travel down to peek at what it is you're reading, and he's surprised when instead of a textbook he sees a comic.

Guardians of the Galaxy

From the angle you were holding it, he couldn't tell exactly what issue you were on, but the cover looked good. He cocks his head to the side a little to get a better look. Feeling his eyes on you, you look up at him and raise a brow. It takes a second, but you piece together what he's trying to do so you close the comic and show it off to him.

You're on an issue he's already read through. He removes the headphones from his ear.

"I didn't think anyone else read the Guardians series." Craig says, it's out of pocket for him to be the first to initiate but the thought of meeting someone who's a fan like him is actually exciting. It's enough to pull him out of his little mental funk.

"Yeah! I just started collecting these issues last week! Have you read this series?" You say with a smile that’s a little too bright for him.

He nods again at you, and that's where the conversation should have ended. You go back to your reading, and he goes back to his game. But it doesn't, you lean over and catch a glimpse at what he's playing. He watches the recognition sparkle up in your eyes.

"Oh, which one is that? Gen four, right?"

"Yeah. It's Diamond."

"Oh! Cool! I've got Platinum! I gotta default to the third one because I don't have friends who play the game!" You laugh at your own joke, eyes going from the DS to his.

Craig stares down at you for a while. He sets the DS in his lap and pushes the palm of his hand against his fingers. Hands popping and snapping again, the little tic making him relax. You don't comment like Clyde does, but you are still talking.

"Gen four has to be my favorite in the series! I just couldn't get into Black and White!" That makes him stop and look at you like you're crazy.

"That's the best one in the series though."

"That's what everyone tells me, but I hated the starters!"

Time slips past him, the way you pull him into the conversation so naturally. It isn't until the bus pulls up to the campus that he realizes he's been talking to you the entire time. You perk up when the bus lets out a sigh and a hiss, telling its passengers that they've reached their destination.

"Oh, this is my stop! Hey, it was awesome talking with you!" You grin and stand up, slinging your bag over your shoulder.

You give him a little finger salute and take off, you're so quick to scurry away he doesn't have time to tell you that this is his stop too. Of course he's never noticed you around campus before, Craig was never one to waste his energy on things that didn't require it. He had his select group of friends and was happy with that, but now here you were wedging your way into his mind. As he stands up to get off the bus, lazily throwing the headphones over his neck, it dawns on him that he didn't even catch your name.

Oh well, so much for that. Maybe he'd see you around.

The universe must have answered that for him because the next morning he sees you on the bus again. He watches as you push past the isle of seats and plop down next to him with another book in your hand. A different issue, a different conversation. There are days where you sit in silence doing your own thing. Then there are days where you talk his ear off and he just sits and listens, occasionally throwing in his thoughts on whatever you're talking about.

But he listens. That was new, normally he just tends to zone out if he doesn't care. Somehow you find a way to make him care, a way to make him invested in the conversation. He even goes out of his way to learn your name and what you're studying.

"Ah it's just general studies right now, a little bit of everything until I figure out what I wanna do. I wasn't even planning on going to college, it just kinda happened." You tell him leaning back in your seat.

"What, so you just woke up one day and decided that was it?" Craig scoffs a bit at the idea but the amused glint in his eyes doesn't go unnoticed by you.

"Heh. Well Mr. Space-boy not all of us know what we wanna do with life from the womb." You snicker at his reaction, tallying another eyeroll in your head.

"It's Space-Man. I'm Space-Man Craig." He corrects you before moving on, so you don't comment on the little pink hue on his face. "I get that but how do you go from I'm not going to college, to just doing it?"

You smile, it's different than the dorky one you usually shoot at him or the one when you tell a bad joke. It almost seems sad. He can't put his finger on it, but he doesn't need to wait long for you to roll up your sleeve. On your wrist is a font that looks almost like an alarm clock, the block black ink reads "0:00".

"Had this guy I was with. Was with him for six years, we were high-school sweethearts, prom date, whole nine yards. They were my soulmate, the little counter on my wrist told me that much." You take a deep breath, and he watches the way your fingers move across the skin.

He pops his fingers again, pushing them against each other.

"Well, about a year ago I realized...I kinda hated it? Hated the fact this stupid mark on my body got to dictate who I fell in love with? I mean we didn't even have anything in common, and while we never really argued we just had a different outlook on life. I think a part of me still loves him, but...I can't really love him in the way this thing wants me to." You emphasize that you're talking about the marking on your skin by holding it up.

Little rays of sunlight brush across your skin and Craig can't help but follow it. You had a soulmate, of course you did. He feels that rock in his stomach again, weighing heavier than it did last time. The week he got where he wasn't thinking about this whole thing was nice, but now that he's reminded his body tenses back up.

He cracks his fingers again, squeezing the side of the palm.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to trauma dump on you." He raises a brow at you silently asking you what you mean by that. "Call it a sixth sense, or the fact that you pop your fingers and do that little Hm when you're thinking about something. So, I figured you were annoyed by the random dump."

You were more attentive than he would have given you credit for. He hasn't known you that long and you're already picking up on things that took Clyde years to. Then again, Clyde and attentive don't really go hand in hand.

"No, it's not you. It's the..." He rolls his wrist a few times trying to find the words, fingers eventually find purchase on the strings of his hat dangling by his face. "Soul-mate thing. I don't have one."

"Ah yeah, I can see how that's a weird topic for you then! But hey that's kind of cool!" You beam up at him, the sunlight slips off your wrists and onto your lips.

Wait, what?

"You get to pick who you wanna love, that's awesome. That means the connection goes deeper! You gotta build something with someone, nothing telling you to just jump straight into a relationship! No pressure, just you and the other person!" Your eyes are like little stars as you speak. A tiny galaxy that he can't seem to pull himself out of.

Wait, what?

Like clockwork, the bus stops and you go to get up. Except this time Craig is fast enough, he takes your hand. His fingers slip into your palm and stop you from moving. Your finger salute falls back to your side. He just looks at you for a while, the only thing he can hear right now is the collection of people getting off the bus and his own heartbeat drumming in his chest.

"If you're not getting off, I need you to sit down please!" The bus driver makes you flinch and sit back down next to Craig.

"Sorry sir!" You call back.

When you look back at him with a confused look, he freezes again. His mouth hangs open for a second, only to close. He almost looks like a fish out of water from the way he's trying to collect his thoughts. Craig expects you to get back up and tell him goodbye. To run off the bus and never speak to him again.

Instead, you sit there, patiently waiting for him to collect himself. You wait there even when the door to the bus shuts and the engine kicks back on. You look at him with wonder and he has to avert his gaze from you. Pulling his hat over his eyes for a moment because he realizes he's still holding your hand and the heat coming up to his face is too much.

"I... I’m sorry. I just wanted to-" What did he want? His mind was drawing a blank, he was floating and the only teather was your hand in his.

He knew he wanted to keep holding your hand. He knows your touch doesn't bother him like it should. He wants to steal a few more moments with you because these bus rides aren't enough time. Something he's never felt before.

"You're good. Take your time." You can't know what that means to him to hear you say that. To not pull your hand away and call him a freak for just grabbing you like that. Instead, you turn your palm over and give his hand a squeeze back.

"I want to...do that." He says it. With his eyes covered so he's not blinded by that smile on your face. He can hear it in your voice, the way you chuckle.

"Do what?"

"You know what I'm trying to say."

"Maybe. You better say it just so I can be sure." You're teasing him now, leaning forward so you can get a peek at his blushing face.

Craig huffs again, frustration building up in his chest. He moves the hat from his face and stares you down like a showdown. His brows knitted together with newfound determination.

"I want to build a connection past this." There. It's out. Out in the open, out in the space between the both of you. Confession falls from his mouth in that monotone voice he's so famous for.

"Hell yeah. I'd like that Space-Man Craig." You laugh and it sounds so sweet.

He smiles down at you, and it feels like a gift. It's the first time you've seen him look at you like that. You make a silent promise to yourself that it will not be the last time you see it.

"So, any idea where the bus is going now?"

"No idea. Wanna get off at the next stop and walk to campus?"

"Nope! You stopped me from going to class so now you're taking me out. I want food!"

Craig scoffs at you and takes the headphones off his neck, he offers you the other bud. He sticks the one in his ear and pulls out his phone. His fingers slide across the screen going for the music app. He hands you the phone and gestures for you to pick something.

You excitedly take him up on the offer, sticking the bud in your ear. You begin going on about whatever album you’ve been listening to, and the whole ride he sits and listens to you. Nodding along so you know he’s listening, not that he really has to. You can tell from the way he looks at you that you have his undivided attention.

So wrapped up in the music and your voice he doesn’t even notice the font on your wrist change. It’s not that boring clock anymore, it shifts and swirls around. A moving tattoo that eventually turns into a painting melting down your arm. The deep darkness of space with a little astronaut sitting on the moon, just watching the sun.