#music soulmate au

[eat-limes-bitches]

The Sounds That Bind Us

PAIRING: Female Farmer! Reader x Bucky Barnes

SUMMARY: Music has a way of tying two people together, in ways that only the universe can design.

WARNINGS: umm, major fluff, so so so fluffy! Minor injuries (for Bucky any way)

Word Count: 2967

Alternate Jun-iverse: C4027 | Square 1: Soulmate | Square 2: Country

A/N: OOO! I'm excited for this one yall! I've been working on it for a while! (Hence the word length hehe) But this is my first attempt at a soulmate AU and I hope I did it justice, but I'm really happy with it and I hope you guys love it as much as I do!

Song lyrics are in italics and the songs are:

Honey Take My Hand by Cody Francis

Didn’t See It Coming by My Brothers and I

Fallen Like A Star by St. Lundi

Enjoy! <3

Divider by Rookthorne, graphic by Eat-Limes-Bitches

Bucky was going to kill him. Steve had promised an easy in-and-out mission, something low stakes to get back into the groove after some time off in Wakanda. This was everything but that. Bucky was snapped out of his murderous thoughts by a bullet whizzing by his head, making him curse as he sped up. These HYDRA soldiers were hot on his tail, and not letting up. It didn’t help that he had been hit, the pain coursing through his right thigh a constant reminder of the bullet lodged in the flesh. As he tumbled through the treeline into a clearing, he saw an old barn, the moonlight reflecting off the tin roof seemed like a beacon of hope. Without any other options, he skillfully hopped over the fence, ducked into the barn, held his breath, and listened. The soldiers came exploding through the treeline and stopped, seeing no sign of Bucky anywhere. Bucky listened carefully as he heard them approach the barn and stop. Their boots crunched on the fallen leaves as they circled the barn. His heart was in his throat, blood rushing in his ears but after a moment that seemed like forever, they left. Bucky didn’t move for almost an hour, listening and making sure that he was in the clear before he pulled out his transponder. He looked down to activate it and saw that it had been trashed by a stray bullet. He groaned out a curse and threw the useless device across the barn. He tried to stand but the pain in his leg prevented him from supporting any weight so he pushed himself up against the wall, deciding that he’d just rest for a bit.

He was on the verge of sleep when a song started to flow through his mind, louder than it had been since, ever, causing him to startle. See, everyone had a soulmate, something Bucky never believed in, having never heard any music in the 40’s. After he fell off the train, he figured whoever they were would be long dead by now. However, since coming out of recovery, he started to hear the music again. Part of HYDRA’s programming, he found out, was to block the music that would be pumping into his mind from his soulmate but now that he was free from all of the things that HYDRA put in his head, he started hearing music. He didn’t think much of it, as it was always quiet and in the background like a thought, but this song was so loud that it sounded like it was being whispered in his ear. 

“Let's get out, we can leave this city. Let's drive to the open air. Yeah, the countryside is so pretty. With the wind blowing in your hair. We can look back someday Baby, don't you understand? That we only get one love, I wanna make it count. Honey, come on now and take my hand”

It was a soft melody, the gentle guitar soothing his frayed nerves, and just as quickly as it startled him awake, it soothed him back to sleep.

He was woken up by something cold and wet nuzzling into his cheek. Bucky groaned and tried to shift away from the intrusion but he was too stiff from his awkward sleeping predicament to move very fast. Swatting at whatever the hell was messing with him, he was greeted by more music flooding his senses. This time, even louder than the last. The guitar was vibrating his bones and the drums rattling his teeth when all of a sudden there was a gasp and the music promptly stopped. 

“Jake! Get away from him! Jesus, hey guy, are you ok?” 

A panicked voice called out as the presence next to him disappeared. Bucky shot open his eyes and shot up into a position ready to defend himself when he saw a woman staring at him. Her light blue button-up was tucked into a pair of old worn-out jeans with a dark belt securing them in place around her hips. A large black and white dog was standing at her side, tail wagging furiously back and forth as its warm brown eyes stared at him. 

Bucky blinked, all the memories of what happened yesterday came flooding back into the forefront of his brain.

“Uh- yeah, I uh- I think so.” He groaned, his leg screaming at him in pain causing him to hiss out in discomfort. 

“Are you sure? You don’t seem like it, here, let me help you.” The woman walked over, tucking an arm underneath his and wrapping it around him, hoisting him onto his feet and leading him to a bench on the other side of the barn. She gently placed him down and ran her eyes over him when she noticed the dried patch of blood on his thigh.

“Shit, have you been shot?!” Bucky was too busy gawking at how stunning this woman was to notice that he was bleeding again, her words caused him to look down where she was staring.

“Oh. Yeah, I guess I was. I kind of forgot about that.” Bucky shrugged as he watched the woman wander off to another area.

“How in the hell do you just forget that you were shot?!” She called out in between the slams of cabinet doors. Bucky took a deep breath, opening his mouth to respond when he noticed the dog, who he presumed to be the ‘Jake’ the woman had called out to, resting his head on Bucky’s non-injured thigh. He ran his fingers through the soft silky fur of the pup’s head, looking back up when he heard the woman's rapidly returning footsteps. She appeared from around an old tractor, med kit in tow. She saw the dog vibrating happily underneath Bucky’s attention and smiled softly.

“Jake! Leave…” She paused looking at Bucky for his name. 

“Bucky. You can call me Bucky.” She smiled.

“Y/n. Nice to meet you Bucky.” Bucky’s heart flipped in his chest at the sound of his name rolling off her tongue. His eyes followed her as she crouched down next to him, placing the med kit on the bench. 

“Are you ok with me taking care of this or would you rather do it,” Y/n asked as she began to rifle through the box looking for all of the necessary supplies. Bucky was shocked, she just found this strange man in her barn and was going to help him out instead of calling the cops. He realized she was waiting for an answer, her eyes full of worry staring at him, waiting for an answer. 

“Or, um, I can take you to the hospital, but that's a bit of a drive.” Bucky just shook his head.

“No, no. It’s fine. If you leave the supplies here I can take care of it. Thanks.” Y/n nodded standing up.

“Of course! I’ll get you a change of clothes. My brother left some clothes here, he’s about your height. Hopefully, they fit.”

Before Bucky could say anything else, Y/n walked out of the barn and disappeared, leaving Bucky alone with Jake and a med kit. Bucky gave the dog a final pet before tending to injury.

Once, he was cleaned up and in a fresh pair of clothes, Y/n brought him to the little farmhouse for some breakfast. Bucky sat on a stool watching Y/n cook.

“So how did you end up in my barn? It’s not every day that I get up to start chores and find a man in there.” She asked, flipping over the pancake in the skillet. Bucky chuckled scratching the back of his neck, trying to decide what to say.

“Well, uh… It’s kind of a long story...” 

A few days had passed since breakfast that morning, him spilling his entire life life story to this woman. She promised to try and help him get back to his team, however, the first snow of the season had fallen that same evening and there was no way for them to drive to the town some thirty miles away with the ice and snow covering the roads. 

“Being in the middle of nowhere has its advantages and disadvantages.” She had told him, shoveling a path out to the barn the next morning. “The fact that no plow trucks come through here just happens to be one of the shitty things.” 

Bucky felt strange just sitting around while she worked so he offered to help out while he was there. A sort of thank you for inadvertently saving his life. The more he worked around the farm, the more music he heard playing through his mind, but every time he tried to find the source, it would disappear and Y/N would appear from around a corner, tucking something into her pocket and then asking Bucky a question as she approached. 

The same thing was happening again as Bucky heard the first few chords from a new song drift into his mind, the same volume as the song that first night he slept in the barn.

“Fell in love with a girl that's a few years younger. Was a sister of a friend, didn’t see it coming.”

Bucky set down the bale of hay he had started to take to the horses, to follow the music. He walked over towards the door of the barn, the music getting louder with each step he took.

“I was hanging with him when I heard the door open.”

He pushed open the door and looked out to see Y/n and Jake walking towards the barn. She had earbuds tucked in under her hat, humming softly, and with each step she took towards the barn the louder the music in Bucky's ears got. He felt his heart start to race, his mouth ran dry.

“She walked into the room with a smile and that’s when, her eyes looked at me and said quietly,”

Y/n looked up to see Bucky staring at her and plucked the earbuds out of her ears and tucked them into her pocket, the music playing in Bucky’s mind disappearing with them.

“Hey, Bucky! I was lookin’ for ya!” She smiled at him, continuing to walk closer. “I was wondering if you could help me with something a little different.” She was standing right in front of him now, her bright eyes locking onto his. His pulse started to quicken as he hoped the cold masked the blush forming on his cheeks. 

“W-what might that be?” Y/n giggled and placed a hand on his shoulder sparks flooding throughout his body as she pushed him back into the barn. 

“I have to round up the cows today, since it’s snowed that means all of the bot flies are gone so we can go ahead and deworm them. I was hoping you could tag along. I know you’ve probably never done anything like this but it would really help me out a ton.” She smiled sweetly at him as she paused by the tack room, heading inside to grab her saddle and other equipment for the task at hand. 

“Uh sure, I’ll give it a go,” Bucky replied, following her into the small room, grabbing the other saddle sitting on the rack. It was then Bucky decided that he would do just about anything to get Y/n to smile at him like that again. It was so warm and bright that he felt ten times warmer than he did just moments ago.

“Awesome! Thank you so much, Buck! If you want to tack up Shanty I’ll hop on Zippy and we can go bring those cows up to the cattle shed!” 

Bucky saddled up Shanty with some difficulty due to the fact he had no idea what the hell he was doing, but with Y/n’s help, the pair were ready to go. Bucky watched as Y/n skillfully mounted the red horse who was stomping around impatiently waiting for her to get on. Taking a deep breath, he carefully pulled himself up into the saddle and nodded for Y/n to lead the way. As the pair began to jog through the snow Bucky called out,

“I hope you know I haven’t been on a horse since 1943, an’ never used em’ on a farm before so I have no idea what I’m doin’ darlin’.”

Y/n let out a laugh that seemed to sing off of the ice that covered a nearby pond. She looked over her shoulder and Bucky was convinced he had never seen a more beautiful sight. The morning sun reflected off the snow, causing its golden glow to dance across the landscape. Its golden rays were blocked by the brim of her dark cowboy hat, but the leather band almost seemed to be turned into gold as the beams of light that slipped around the edges wove into the intricate braid. Her eyes sparkled with something so warm and bright that Bucky was sure he was seeing an angel in person. 

“Don’t worry too much!” She replied, oblivious to the effect she had on the man. 

“Shanty’s a pro. She can basically do this on her own, she just prefers having someone on her back or a little extra guidance.” Y/n explained as the cow herd came into view. “Just point her in the right direction, she will do the rest.” 

Bucky nodded and watched as Y/n kicked Zippy forward toward the cows and once she rounded the back, the herd started running in his direction. Gripping onto the reins, he pointed Shanty in the direction and when the cows tried to jump out of line, Shanty would run and slide to a stop, forcing the cows to stay in a group as they ran towards the cattle shed. 

The journey back to the cattle shed was considerably more work than the ride out, constantly trying to keep the frisky cows from darting off one way or another but eventually, they were all secured in the barn, Y/n smiled at Bucky.

“Thank you for your help. I can take it from here. Meet you inside for dinner? I prepped some ravioli last week that’s in the freezer.” 

Bucky smiled and agreed, leading Shanty and Zippy back to the barn, the goofy grin remaining on his face all the way there.

Bucky grumbled angrily as the wrench slipped out of his hand. He reached out from under the tractor with his left hand when he remembered that his left hand was, essentially, an all-purpose tool. After finally getting the stubborn bolt off, he pushed himself out from underneath the tractor and took a sip of the hot cider in his mug that Y/n insisted he take with him after dinner. In between bites of the best ravioli that he had ever eaten, Y/n mentioned that the tractor had a bust pipe and that he had gotten the parts but hadn’t had the time to fix it herself so naturally, Bucky set off to fix it as soon as the dishes were done. 

Just as Bucky was about to get back to work, he heard a new melody whisper in his ear.

I'm flying, shining, bright like just like the Leonids, Heading for you.

Wiping his hands off on an old shop towel, Bucky made his way back to the farmhouse, and with each step he took, the music got a little louder.

Slowly, but surely, lighting up the pyramids, On my way to you

Kicking off his snow and mud-covered boots in the mud room, Bucky followed the sound of the music, to the back porch where he found Y/n sitting with a mug in her hands gazing up at the stars.

Ooh, ooh. I've fallen like a star for you

The music was so loud at this point, that Bucky was convinced that it was integrating itself into the very fiber of his being. Taking a steadying breath, he reached out a hand and placed it on Y/n’s shoulder startling her her slightly before realizing it was just him. He watched as she hit the pause button, and the music that was flowing so clearly stopped. Bucky felt his heart rate pick up. There is no way that he's finally found her after all this time.

“Hey Buck, What going on?” Y/n asks softly, offering a smile

“Can I see your Phone?” Bucky asks all in one breath.

Puzzled Y/n hands it to him. “Uh, sure why?”

“I just want to try something” He mumbled as he put the earbuds in and walked away from her to the opposite end of the porch. He locked eyes with her and hit play.

He watched as Y/n’s eyes grew wide, her hands flying up to cover her mouth. She heard it too. Bucky swallowed as he took a shaky step toward her, the music getting louder with each step he took until he was standing face-to-face with her.

Ooh, ooh. I've fallen like a star for you

“I think you’re my soulmate” He whispered, reaching out to cup her face with his flesh hand, the metal one still holding onto the phone.

Y/n blinked a few times in surprise before surging forward and tackling him in a hug planting a firm but warm kiss on his lips. Bucky blinked in surprise but responded immediately, wrapping his other arm around her and pulling her flush against his body.  Eventually, they parted and Y/n smiled up at him.

 “Does that mean you’ll stay here with me?” She whispered.

Bucky pressed his forehead against hers before he replied, “Forever and always, for as long as you’ll have me.”

[strawbubbysugar]

Y/N's mind is a well constructed thought palace made out of gummy bears and silly string (emphasis on the silly)

[hitlikehammers]

tremolo

…what if instead of learning clarinet or percussion, you could learn to read the music of hearts? 💕

rating: t ♥️ cw: love at first sight, car crash (off-screen), SUCH FLUFF ♥️ tags: ✨magical realism au, musician eddie munson, paramedic steve harrington, kinda soulmates (it makes more sense with the magical realism part), character study, softness

for @steddielovemonth day one: "Every heart sings a song, incomplete, until another heart whispers back. Those who wish to sing always find a song. At the touch of love everyone becomes a poet." —Plato

It was just like learning any instrument, really.

At least what they tried to convince Eddie to believe at the tender age of nine.

But it was all about finding an aptitude, apparently. Developing a talent. Fourth grade rolls around and he fucks up blowing with a reed, manages to give himself a tongue splinter. Nearly passes out on the brass. Ends up with the choir lady looking over horn-rimmed glasses and narrowing her eyes at him less like a teacher and more like a fortune teller or something, scrying what’s to come of him, like she can see through all that he is and will be, before she goes scribbling something on his little slip of paper already marking all the failed kinds of music he’ll never get to make and telling him: go to Room 011.

But no one ever goes to Room 011.

He meets a petite woman with mousy hair and clothes that look like they belong to someone else, somehow. She introduces herself as Miss L. She looks like a Miss L., so he doesn’t think any further on the point.

You will not play much, really, she tells him, and the way she talks is kinda funny, like she learned words but not from people actually saying them out loud. Eddie kinda likes it, though. The playing is only for emergencies, and if you find your True Note.

Eddie doesn’t know what most of that means, except for the fact that the whole point of trying—and failing—at all the instruments was to join the school band with something to play. So if that’s not what he’s going to learn, then what the heck is Eddie meant to be doing down here—is what he wants to ask.

He manages a little politer version of the same, his nan’d be proud. His dad wouldn’t care even if he was around and not behind bars. His uncle might be happy that Eddie’s kept his nose clean just this one time. So he figures he does okay.

But really, he just wants an answer. He was supposed to get to learn music. It was the one thing that was keeping this whole year feeling like he could maybe, maybe survive it.

It also means he doesn’t have to take the art class that’s mostly kindergarten crafts instead of real art, so.

“You will be learning music,” Miss L. answers, more patient than most grownups; “you are here to learn how to read the songs that hearts sing.”

And that is, by far, in all of his whole nine years of living, the most fucking absurd sentence that Eddie has ever heard.

——

He’d kinda thought it was a joke, when he left that first afternoon to get back before Language Arts.

Turned out: nope. It was not.

He’d maybe thrown something slightly less childish than a tantrum, when what he got was a big set of earphones and a box the size of an Easy-Bake Oven, where apparently he’d be playing some kind of recordings to start his lessons.

“Do you not wish to learn?” Miss L. asked so simply, and Eddie…

Eddie reminded himself that no matter how foolish and stupid this was, it couldn’t possibly be worse than making construction paper collages with Elmer’s glue, so.

He put the headphones on and pressed play.

——

His workbooks didn’t look like anyone else’s in band—in fact, Eddie didn’t think he was actually a part of the class band, like, he wasn’t expecting to play at the spring concert with the flutes and the trombones, anymore. When he had sheets of staves to fill out they didn’t have straight lines. He didn’t draw different circles with little flags and bridges connecting them. He…

“When there are no keys, and there is no time signature,” Miss L. had explained, and it took time to make any sense; “you are the rules, and you feel what is a melody,” she’d tapped something that feltbeautiful, like daffodils blooming, though Eddie couldn’t say why; “and what is a warning.”

And then she’d tapped again, and it clenched in Eddie’s chest like a tornado siren, and…yeah.

That was kind of the best explanation he could have asked for.

——

It’s in middle school, when everyone else gets new band directors while Eddie sticks with Miss L., that it starts to…well.

That’s when the fact that Eddie’s alone in his lessons, and no one seems to know quite what he does—and the other kids who get that kind of treatment are usually the ones who can’t add or spell right, who have some kind of problem to work on extra hard—but it’s around then that Eddie starts being called names for it.

It’s not too bad, at first. Eddie’s worked for his two full years of elementary school lessons to get through recognizing the songs, suffers the point where recognizing becomes unbearable, overwhelming—Miss L. never left his side when he held his head in pain for all the noise, all the songs because they were everywhere, in everyone, and how was he supposed to learn what was right and what was good and what was just okay but then what was also everything the opposite when he couldn’t even think—

But she taught him the tools, the ways to sift through the chatter, as she called it. Because not all of it was a warning; not all of it was bad just because it wasn’t beautiful.

Some of the noise just was.

She showed him how to trust his own ear; his own song in his own chest as a guide, because that’s why he was here: he had a gift, an aptitude, built in and in need of development. Liked they’d said in the beginning.

He’s nearly thirteen when she teaches him how to write his own songs, in the not-notes and the no-tempos. In the nameless flow of sound.

It’s when his classmates overhear one of those works-in-progress, the taunting gets worse, starts to hedge toward unbearable.

Until Eddie asks if he can just stop: quit this. It’s not worth it. He doesn’t want to be a freak.

“It is a rite of passage, to ask this,” Miss L. says slowly, no judgement, and weirdly no pity; “but I should tell you first,” and her eyes narrow more than Eddie thinks he’s ever seen them.

“Your skill is already greater than any I have seen, and is only getting sharper, more keen.”

And hell if a teacher’s ever said something niceabout Eddie Munson, let alone something that sounds like flat-out praise.

“They cannot hear the music, this is why they say those things,” she flicks her wrist less like conducting a chorus and more like shooing a gnat, like that’s the appropriate amount of consideration the comments deserve. “Your task has always been to teach them what they do not know, to show them the wonder they are ignoring as they live and breathe.”

And while it really would have been nice to know that before signing up for this…this what, calling? Vocation?

While that would’ve been nice, Eddie…Eddie can at least mostly understand he wouldn’t have understood any of it in the fourth grade.

He barely understands now.

But he can feel it. He understands how to feel the music that fills all those gaps.

“This is common,” Miss L. turns back to him, steeples her fingers while humming something from the radio: not bad, but not beautiful. That’s what she means, he realizes. The radio plays common.

“This,” and she puts a hand over her own chest and keeps time with her fingers on the tabletop as she hums a wholly novel thing out of thin air, and Eddie has never seen someone else recognize the music, has never watched someone compose in the veins where the songs that hearts sing are played, let alone in real time; maybe she never had because he had to lean for himself, first.

But it is kind of exquisite to witness.

“This,” she stops, and raises a brow pointedly in Eddie’s direction; “is human, built in your cells.”

Eddie couldn’t name why, precisely, but he feels…shamed, but also empowered. So different, but they make an almost compelling melody together as they clash.

“They will call you freak before they call you prodigy,” Miss L. says it like a fact, which…kinda sucks to hear, in all honesty.

“They will label you insane, before they recognize you as genius,” and the way she adds that part makes him feel like that was her personal burden to bear, and he aches for her in it.

“They will cry out garbage and nonsense,” and here, these words: these are the ones Eddie knows immediately he’s meant to be hearing, be weaving into notes the strongest, the ones she wants him to keep closest and never lose:

“They will cry out worthless,” she spits out with a venom he’s never heard her use; “before they will sob in the face of your masterworks, and how they will breathe magic in the soul.”

And…Eddie doesn’t know exactly what to do in the face of the conviction she says that last part with. To doubt it, as he instinctively wants to, feels vile; the most egregious disrespect. He can’t bring himself to even try. So, he asks instead, voice rough:

“When will it change?”

Because despite everything: he doesn’t want to be a freak.

“That I cannot say,” she sighs, and she does sound sorry; “and it may never change at all.”

Eddie doesn’t know if he’s built to handle that, the possibility of never.

“But even if you leave, here and now,” Miss L. cuts into his despairing; “even if you stop your learning, the songs will never leave you.”

Oh.

Oh, so did they…did they teach him to hear a endless goddamn curse, and as a fucking kid—

“You would always have come to hear them,” Miss L. must read his mind, or maybe just his face; “just never with any place to funnel the noise,” and he…guesses he should be grateful. He nearly went mad in those early years, before she taught him how to make new melodies, concertos the likes of which even the great masters hadn’t penned, because they played in a different medium. Their notes and structured time were useful, but limited.

And if they never heard otherwise, how would even the most brilliant talents know what they were passing over, leaving behind?

“Do you still wish to leave?”

Eddie turns, almost having forgotten Miss L. was still sitting there, watching him. Almost having forgotten what he’d come to ask, to give up.

There’s no question left, now.

He gets out his notebook, his pen, and starts as he always does.

With the listening.

——

It’s a genuine distraction—the songs get louder with time, but Miss L. tells him that’s a sign of his skill growing, his notice of the equivalents of key signatures and ligature notes in the heartbeats he passes every day—but it costs him passing senior year once, and then again, and almost a third time until by the skin of his teeth, he manages. While every other teacher shames him for it, derides him as incurably stupid, or at the very least unambitious to the point of embarrassment, the extra years mean more time with Miss L., and Eddie…most days, Eddie is nothing but thankful.

More time means Eddie also learns that the songs he hears are as much a public service as they are an art form, as much a defense mechanism as a craft. He knows when bullies are on the prowl, and to make himself scarce for their screeching cacophonies. He knows when he has to be less of a coward and step in when a wild rhythm makes him sick with its fear.

The more he pays attention to the not-quite-beautiful songs—especially when he thinks on them later and stumbles upon nuggets of the exquisite inside every way they weren’t—the more he remembers years ago, out of almost nowhere, but maybe…maybe everywhere, like it’d been written in his heart’s song the day she spoke it:

“My first day,” he enters the same room—not the same-same room but the one in the high school that’s as abandoned as all of them have been, always Room 011—but he enters the room close to the end of the year, the last year, with the question thick on his tongue, and woven the same in his song as he closes the door and feels his heartbeat quicken for no reason and every reason, like he’s long learned these songs always do.

Miss L., for her part, just nods; waits.

“You said,” Eddie rolls his lips together; “emergencies.”

It’s a delay tactic. They both know it.

She’s kind to play along.

“Mmm,” she hums; “the slightest bits, yes, you can shift the rules to change the song, because you made the rules to begin with,” she eyes him carefully, then. “But only by bits, and in only the most dire moments.”

Yeah, yeah, sure. He never thought he could like…write lines to coax a heart to sing itself back from the dead or some shit. He gets the point.

Again, they both know: that’s not the point he’s here for, heart pounding high in his throat.

“But then you also said something else.”

This time, she doesn’t nod at all; just stares. Eddie has to clear his throat twice to make a sound so as to ask:

“What’s a True Note?”

Because Eddie’s had a couple flings here and there. And the idea of anything real with someone else, alongside the weight of this…talent of his, this training that’s defined half his life by now: it’s really nothing more than a stray idea. But Eddie can’t really hide from the fact that, somewhere along the way, he’s suffused that idea with so much promise and potential, but with no legs for it to fucking stand on.

And he’s about to graduate. About to go out into the world and…who the fuck knows what.

He needs to either hold onto this insane, silly notion of some cosmic meant-to-be match waiting for him somewhere, that it’s at least possible, and then hold on to it like burning—or let it go, and get on with the rest of his fucking life.

“Do you know how I said you could sway the rhythm just the littlest bit, in the greatest of need?”

Of course he did. She literally just said it.

“Your True Note will sing like you have never heard before,” she tells him like it’s not something…immense; “and that song will sway your rhythm so much more than the littlest of anything.”

She just fucking says it, like it isn’t already swaying the rhythm his heart sings in. Here and now.

“That heartsong will change your world.”

And all Eddie can even think to ask, to make more plain in it, is just one thing:

“Will I change theirs, too?”

Miss L’s eyes lock to his and hold for enough seconds where it should be uncomfortable, where his chest starts to grow unbearably tight.

“Hmm,” she considers finally; “if it is meant to be that way.”

Eddie wants to scream. It’s not enough.

And still somehow, it will have to be.

——

In the months that follow his freedom, he misses Miss L. Kinda desperately.

But the lack of structure, the openness of knowing he has to find a way to piece together all the snippets of song he’s bombarded with: it is the reason he ever picks up a guitar. It’s the whole learning heartsongs thing that he has to thank for it, a roundabout journey toward the destination he’d wanted from the beginning.

Or else, that he thought he did.

It’s not just guitar, though. He eventually learns the woodwinds without ending up with a splinter in his mouth. Figures out the different harmonies at hand in making sure he tempers the way he breathes for the brass. He loves the piano, and the cello especially, alongside guitar and double bass: he makes a trip back home specifically to see her and ask—Miss L. tells him it’s probably because of their strings, like hearts have, too.

It feels right in a way things haven’t felt in a very long time.

Which is really how he comes to not only understand, but to accept in his bones: no matter if they ever call him prodigy or genius, if he ever plays a concert hall or anywhere but on a street corner with an open case for change, he was made for this; built for this. The woman with the horn-rimmed glasses who sent him to the basement music room saw it in him. Miss L. proved it to him by teaching him to prove it to himself. He doesn’t know if he’d have picked it, but he knows it was never something he could have picked or turned down in the first place at all: it’s who he is.

He is the music. He is the songs that hearts use for singing. And maybe someday he’ll meet someone who sees it in him, and hears his song, and sings ecstatic. Maybe.

He hopes.

But either way: this is his life.

This is his melody.

——

It takes years before they do sob for his masterpieces, for them to be ready for a style and cadence they don’t understand because they will never comprehend the language, that speaks deeper than the logic required for any of those rules. It takes a long fucking time before they start listening with the lens of the first song any of them ever learned. But the time does come, and Eddie is grateful, because he’d genuinely feared the maybe-never he’d been warned about. He’s glad that’s not where he is, now.

But now? Things start to happen almost unbearably fast. Shows here and flights there, guest appearances and interviews, record labels and live recordings, a book deal he can’t even begin to think about. The world tips on its axis and Eddie only really considered that happening to him for one reason: because of a song so beautiful, in a Note so True—this isn’t that.

But everything still feels upside down anyway; totally off-kilter.

He’s crossed ten time-zones this time. He’s exhausted, but he has a performance tonight, just like he did in the tonight of the place he just left. The car he’s in on his way to the next venue is sleek, like they all are now; his team is already there preparing, so it’s just him and some local hires he hasn’t even had a chance to learn the names of yet, which he hates. He hates being privy to their songs and not even knowing their names, let alone their stories.

He jots the notes he gleans from how they sing without their words on the drive across town anyway. Waste not, and all that.

Eddie has the pen in hand, cap between his teeth, when the truck plows straight into them.

What follows would be unsurprising, if Eddie could process it from a bystander’s point of view—as it is, the only thing he knows in the melee is the music.

He is devastated, as he reaches out for the slowing songs around him, knowing in the back of his mind what their slacking tempos mean, and marveling with something like horror at how beautiful each one is as it starts to fade: still unique, still something Eddie could braid into a piece, certainly one to draw tears.

His own song is ebbing, he knows, but it’s less important than the sweet melodies around him, especially—

Oh.

Eddie thinks, with what may be the last thought left to him as pressure and heat and pain tingle at the edges of the music, almost too strong now to be drowned out by the notes that are what Eddie is at his core: but he thinks he may be too far gone already, because what he begins to hear is…

Exultant. It’s…

If Eddie believed in a heaven, this would be what the hosts there sang. When the idea of divinity is bandied about, they can only ever be talking about some cheap imitation of what Eddie hears now. Luminous. Effervescent.

Beautiful in a way that exceeds the word itself so deeply that it barely fits, obliterates the notion on sight.

And what a gift, Eddie muses as everything dims to black, to hear such Notes, such perfect music as the last thing he has to hold onto in the end.

To end on something that’s True.

——

The next tones Eddie hears are mechanical. He winces—not bad but certainly not beautiful—and then winces harder because wincing itself fucking hurts.

He holds himself still, seeks the song he knows in his own veins: yes, and he’d been so sure it was gone, because there’d be an accident, a crash, he’d been thrown, crushed, songs all around him were dying and he’d heard the magnificent symphony of otherworldly perfection so—

“I’m technically not supposed to be here,” a voice interjects, or no: drips in leisurely, like comfort, like honey; “because you’re a patient, and I’m,” and Eddie forces his eyes open to see the voice come out of a man, who is pointing at his chest: a uniform. Medical.

“I’m not dead?”

All signs do point that direction but…Eddie had been kinda fairly sure he was done for.

“God,” the man chokes like he’s pained, like the idea hurts him, and why; “no,” and he says that a little fiercely, protective almost; “though not for lack of an effort.”

He looks tired, as Eddie’s vision starts to clear some more. He looks radiant. Exquisite.

Beautiful.

“You saved me?”

Because Eddie clocks the uniform now: paramedic. The ones who come onto the scenes and try like hell to save who they can. Heroes.

“I helped,” the beautiful man says, like a hero would, of course. But…it still doesn’t make sense. If the man does this for his job, then Eddie isn’t special, so then why is he so vehement, and then what of all the fading songs Eddie remembers, because Eddie had heard—

“What about,” he starts, but there’s a hand over his quickly, soothing.

“Everyone’s here, different wards,” the hero-beauty tells him in lows tones; “we don’t know if they’ll all make it through the night, but,” he nods, like…this is enough.

And it is. Except…

“How?”

And where Eddie is baffled, his hero just quirks a brow.

“Don’t tell me you never covered emergencies?” he asks skeptically. “Most dire moments, greatest of need?”

And it’s with those words that Eddie’s world slows very quickly to a halt. The music swells in a way he’s never known: because it’s always present to hear.

Buts it’s never been so tangible to feel, not like this, and with such…magnificence, no lesser word could touch it. Maybe he truly is closer to death than not, maybe that’s the reason for the fervor in this man he doesn’t know—the choirs of the angels Eddie wasn’t banking on swells and is visceral, and this hero sits before him, speaks the words that have haunted Eddie more days of his life than not, and—

“This was where the music took my life,” the man pulls at his collar, indicative again: the heroism. He…he saves people, because he, he also hears…

“But I couldn’t have done it without you.”

His hand on Eddie’s tightens, like gratitude, and Eddie…gapes like a fucking fish, and then—

“There’s something else.”

“Not just here to check up on the fruits of your medical miracle?” Eddie’s tongue feels heavy, thick in his mouth; he feels sluggish all over, weighted down and like he can barely move because…this man hears the music that hearts make.

Can he hear the ineffable beauty, like Eddie can? He must, that’s how it works, so why is he not in the same amount of awe—

“Not just,” the man smiles small, but real, a little hesitant. A little…shy, maybe, before he straightens, leans a little closer.

“Watch that screen,” and he tracks Eddie’s gaze until Eddie’s fixed upon the ECG, the most disappointing distillation of the songs he’s learned to find so much wonder in.

But then the man is pressing Eddie’s hand to his own chest, which…is forward, given they don’t even know each other.

Eddie is maybe still on, or at least just-recently-off, death’s door, and either way he’s fucking thrilledwith this development, warm beneath his palm.

“Now count.”

It only takes a moment, to put the gestures together into a statement.

The beat under his touch matches the line across the screen. Exactly.

But this man’s not the one attached to the monitor.

“Got it?”

Eddie nods, and the man doesn’t hesitate, lifts Eddie’s hand and presses it back to Eddie’s own chest.

“Again.”

And that’s…that’s not the same rhythm as the one on the screen; the songs don’t match at all.

But Eddie can still hear the one that does—the beauty. The exaltation.

“Can you,” Eddie asks, lifts his finger that’s got a clip on it, and the man’s a professional, he’ll understand—looks less than conflicted about disconnecting Eddie from wires and leads before clipping his own finger and letting the screen shift to a new cadence.

The same one under Eddie’s hand, in Eddie’s own chest.

“Holy fuck.”

“Yeah,” the man barely breathes, and Eddie notices now how intense his eyes are, focused solely on Eddie, and…Eddie remembers the words that came after the ones about emergencies. About how little he could help, but that he could still do something.

But with only one person, it could be—

“You didn’t just sway my rhythm,” Eddie half-gasps; “you made it your own.”

And oh: Eddie never tied the song of hearts to the song of laughter, but from this man, the huff of incredulous joy that slips from him now—they’re made wholly of the same stuff.

Symphonic. Staggering. Weeping to feel this much, in the soul, to be privy to such a…

Masterpiece.

“Worked both ways, it seems.”

“I heard you,” Eddie blurts out, because it makes sense now; “before I, when I thought I was,” dying, when he thought it was all over; “like I’ve never heard anything before.”

And now: of course this man hears the heavenly movement Eddie thought was a mercy before the end but was instead the arrival of everything he’d ever hoped to one day find, literally coming to rescue him in more ways than one; but that song is somehow commonplace to this unfathomable angel on the earth.

And what this man hears stronger, louder, dearer seems somehow to be Eddie, the song he sings from the chest, in how it’s causing those caramel eyes to glimmer, and to barely blink lest they miss something in just…Eddie.

“You never stopped,” the man says with urgency, with feeling; “your song never stopped,” and then he’s closing his eyes and laying both his hands over his own chest, where Eddie’s heartsong is ringing full and maybe changing his world, because the song in Eddie’s chest sure as hell has already changed his, and—

“It’s extraordinary.”

And Eddie, in years of ridicule, in months of celebration, in all the ups and downs and doubts and hopes this life of songs and hearts and rhythms and beats has left him with, in all of it—

Those two words rewrite his whole fucking being.

“True Note,” Eddie mouths more than speaks before he scoffs; “shit, but that seems like a really fucking inadequate thing to call it,” and his eyes lift to take in the man who he knows, he knows is going to be his magnum opus, or more: is going to write the magnum opus they will be and breathe and share from here to all ends:

“To call you.”

And there’s the clearest sense of a trip in a beat, but who it belongs to isn’t clear, and maybe that’s the reality for them both now: every subtlety of the song is now shared, now theirs.

“You could start with Steve.”

Eddie looks up, breath a little heavy, but the smile on the man’s face is broad and kind of overjoyed, kind of looks like Eddie’s chest feels:

“My name’s Steve.”

And that?

Best damn title for a symphony Eddie’s ever fucking heard.

✨permanent tag list: OPEN (lmk if you want to be added/removed): @ajeff855 @askitwithflours @awkwardgravity1 @bookworm0690 @bumblebeecuttlefishes @captain--low @depressed-freak13 @dragoon-ze-great @dreamercec @dreamwatch @dreamy-jeans137 @estrellami-1 @goodolefashionedloverboi @grtwdsmwhr @gunsknivesandplaid @hiei-harringtonmunson @hbyrde36 @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @kimsnooks @live-laugh-love-dietrich @mensch-anthropos-human @nerdyglassescheeseychick @notaqueenakhaleesi @ollyxar @pearynice @perseus-notjackson @pretend-theres-a-name-here @pukner @ravenfrog @rebellatlas @sadisticaltarts @samsoble @sanctumdemunson @shrimply-a-menace @slashify @stealthysteveharrington @swimmingbirdrunningrock @theheadlessphilosopher @theintrovertedintrovert @themoonagainstmers @theohohmoment @tillystealeaves @tinyloonyteacups @tinyplanet95 @warlordess @wheneverfeasible @wordynerdygurl @wxrmland @yesdangerpls @yourmom-isgay @1-tehe-1

divider credit here

[grim-ghosty]

More griff soulmate au

[adaedellta]

Epic the musical soulmate au

Where nothing changes but all the words make you a lot sadder

I’ve been on a soulmates AU kick recently and thinking about the Ithaca Saga so imagine a first words tattooed on your body trope with young Odysseus and Penelope and he’s a little intuitive having heard of Penelope and thinking she’s so cool then he sees her and gets this feeling she’s the one

Maybe it’s an Athena’s pupil thing maybe they’re such a perfect match for each other that he can feel it in his bones but he has this almost tangible cord pulling him towards her

But he’s there tryna wingman for Menelaus, talks to Tyndareus abt the oath idea and when the king responds well he maybe quietly implies he’s set his sights on Penelope, and maybe Helen and Penelope are somewhere nearby just close enough to hear Odysseus’ pitch but not so close they hear his goals(I can’t find a solid source online for their first meeting so I’m making stuff up) and after, penelope is intrigued by him and he’s somewhere close and she comments something like “he chooses his words well” to Helen. and he’s like stupid smart, trying to impress her, even his subconscious is focused on her and he hears and says something like “it’d take a fool to be insolent in your presence” to her

and it clicks in her head immediately that those are her words and without any shock or question she just says “you’re mine”

And they’re so sickeningly in love, they call back to their words often, he’ll say “I’d be a fool to___” and she’ll repeat “you’re mine” and almost never call him his name favoring lovey nicknames like “my love” and “my dear”

And when he goes off to war she says “you’ll come home to me, you’re mine” and he says “It’d take a fool not to return to your presence”

Then things go south, but through his journey it’s all he thinks, that he has a promise to keep. When he loses his crew, when he faces and befriends Circe, hears his fallen brethren and family in the underworld, the sirens song having an almost “I’m yours” tone as opposed to “you’re mine”, he evades Scylla, he makes Zeus’ choice, all thinking “it would take a fool not to return to your presence”

And calypso, she doesn’t have the words of a soulmate. it’s a fate confined to humanity, from when Zeus split mortals in two and forced their souls to be forever reaching to connect the puzzle til they finally unite. But she knows what they are. And just like her using his sleep-spoken trauma against him, calling back to his dead friends and family, she repeats “you’re mine” in love in paradise even dipping into “my dear” and “my love” despite his unending denial of her affections. It puts even more emphasis on his already rightful aggression and pain at what should only be said by Penelope

Then “I plan to put an end to all the foolishness” in dangerous he already wasn’t going to let anything stop him but now he’s willing to do straight up anything (and he does) to get home. He has a firm belief. he would rather be savage and merciless than be foolish because in his eyes there is nothing worse.

And when he becomes monstrous, how will he sleep at night??? “NEXT TO HIS WIFE” we all say in unison.

That’s not even mentioning Penelope, she spent 10 years pushing back the suitors, because Odysseus is coming home, she knows her husband, he is no fool. He will come back to her. She will not let anything go, and she will keep what is hers. The suitors all having an approach of having her turning their already flat chances into the negatives, especially Antinous’ threats in hold them down all having a message of taking from her where to be with Penelope is to give her all of yourself so she can do the same in turn.

And he absolutely fucks shit up, the suitors and their threats, the harm they’ve dealt to his family, the way they continue to try nothing but take what’s Penelope’s, what’s his. Their foolishness will not be tolerated. The actions they’ve taken to his wife, to his son, the greatest creation their love has ever made, they didn’t stand a chance against the guy who just fought god and won.

And then what everyone has been waiting on for the entire musical the absolute masterpiece that is would you fall in love with me again will never not be heart wrenching. He’s not just asking her if she could look past all he did, fall in love with the man he’s become. He doesn’t know if he still deserves her, if he’s too far gone to be worthy, He’s asking “am I still yours”

And she’s as cunning as ever, even after every year they spent apart she will always know exactly how to push his buttons, how to set him off, how to force him to convey his desperation for her, and hell she’s from Sparta of course she’s gonna be into him after all that. The second he turns his back in shame she’s probably twirling her hair and fanning her face knowing what he did all to keep his promise and return to her. And she gives him the reassurance that he needs, tricks him into proving that no measure of distance and time could ever take away or change what they have, and for the first time in 20 years he hears her say “you’re mine” and it shatters any apprehensions and self doubt because he’s still Penelopes.

And overall it changes literally nothing about the plot or the storyline and only serves to make things a hundred percent more sad and angsty

and I’ve had this eating away at my brain all through a piercing appointment and shopping with my mom and sibling all day I can finally rest now that it’s escaped my head

[xamaxenta]

Marco thinks the spark was a one time thing, an initial shock to the system, there has to be a cost to falling into such a state of infatuation

But Ace sings with him again and the spark surges up from inside his marrow, leaves him winded with lights and sparkles fizzing out behind his eyelids whenever he blinks

Just when Marcos certain he’s imagining things he sees Ace, knows acutely just how much he’s felt it too, he can see the way Ace’s spine curves with the music, body bound by their rhythm, hears the rasp stutter out when the sparks coat his tongue and choke up his throat

Ace kisses him after receiving his first paycheck, it tastes like ozone and sears a brand across Marco’s heart

“You feel it too right?” Ace croaks, mouth swollen, lips still pressed against his—“that fucking feeling.”

“The sparks,” Marco offers, wanting nothing more than to create fireworks

“Yeah. Inside,” Ace mumbles, kisses him again to chase the storm

“Where,” Marco has to know, he must

Ace fumbles with Marco’s useless hand that had strayed to the singers hip, drags it up to slap palm down against his sternum

Electrified, Marco blinks away the crackle he felt more than saw, Ace bewildered tugs him in close to hotly ask in that deadly voice of his, the exertion of singing leaving him slightly breathless and hoarse “the fuck was that?”

“No idea.”

Thrumming humming like live wires Ace digs his nails into Marcos knuckles, from where his hand has clasped over Marcos over his own chest

“How do we stop it?”

Marco rears back offended, this whatever it was was beautiful and Ace wanted it to stop?

“Well, its noisy as all shit isnt it ?” Ace replies defensively and Marco stops to listen, unable to pick up on what Ace seemed to be experiencing

“Gets quieter when I do this though.” Ace leans in to steal another kiss, grin lopsided roguish

another probably uninspiring music au from me but i cant help it music is such a soulmate sort of thing

marcoace meetcute that maybe ill turn into a hot comic one day and its where Marco’s an overqualified pianist, working the night shift at a schmoozy ritzy high class hotel chain cigar lounge

He sometimes plays alone sometimes with a band sometimes with a singer, but hes never met his match yet, he’s never found that spark inside them, this is a paycheck for all his colleagues and collaborators

And then he’s introduced to Ace, a young man who certainly doesnt look like he belongs to this scene, hes far too young, far too wild, far too loud

he almost laughs when Ace says he’s the new lounge singer, Marco isnt judgemental, but, its a little difficult when Ace looks like one of the many overworked college kids scuttling around the city, when he’s got visible tattoos and bedhead and a smile that screams mischief abundance

But he shakes his hand nonetheless and welcomes him warmly as he always does, hopes for a friendly working relationship until Ace inevitably finds greener pastures

Night falls and Marco warms up with his usual ripple of harmonics and pentatonics, scales both major and minor when Ace finally joins him on the soft elevated stage,

he looks good actually, incredible, genuinely, the suit is well cut and his hair is combed handsomely over to one side, revealing an enviable profile with cheekbones that could almost rival marcos himself

The lounge the bar everything opens and the small talk theyd been enjoying comes to an end, for Marco its showtime and he can only hope Ace can keep up

They have a safe song roster, time hadnt allowed them to practice together but Ace had assured him he was prepared, trusting his professional confidence, Marco leads with the opening bars and just as he loses himself in the melody Ace begins to sing and just like that its that spark that feeling, Marco plays by rigorously trained muscle memory alone, head jerking up to watch the way Ace almost leans, sways into against the mic stand his voice drops drastically, deep, raspy so so different from his normal timbre

He gets it now, what people mean when youll know them when you hear it, because Ace has felt it just the same way he has, the lightning crackling inside his ribcage, the hook sliding gutting him with a hot bubbly feeling

Their set blurs by and by the last song Ace has meandered his way closer to Marco, magnetised to the pianist, taking the mic with him holds it in a way Marco fucking wishes was him instead, eyes lidded, dark hair scorching over his freckled features

The way Ace looks at him, the way the lyrics suddenly feel weighted and full of meaning leaves Marco dry mouthed and lightheaded

Perhaps its the way Ace leaves him, expression coy in a sultry kind of way has Marco striding after him, after theyve thanked their audience, grasping Ace by his wrist behind velvet curtains, feels the sharp edge of cufflinks when Ace tugs away with a soft “we shouldnt—“

Flustered at their proximity and the heat, Marco lets him go this time, but he knows, he knows Ace knows he does

And Marco finds hes alright with waiting just a little longer

[wra1th-k1ng]

I’ve been obsessed with Percy Jackson since I was 11, and EPIC since Warrior of the Mind was trending

Only option is to combine them

Annabeth is Odysseus’ reincarnation and Percy is Penelope’s

None of the other characters are reincarnations but the give Anndysseus PTSD (Grover, Thalia, and Luke specifically)

The gods are from EPIC meaning Athena is a good mum and loves Annabeth (She cried when she realised who Annabeth was (which she learned before everyone else))

Both Annadysseus and Pernelope have dreams of their past but chalk it up to godly weirdness.

Annabeth will have knowledge about something she shouldn’t be capable of knowing (Child of Athena, right?) and Percy is way to ocean-y (The genes are strong with this one, Poseidon)

[walmartbrandwhatever]

;Marbit Soulmate au

Okay so I have two soulmate aus in mind! One written within the Canon universe and one written in modern times because both are so interesting to me ngl.

";Each day on your arm is a particular event your soulmate will face today."

This one would be interesting within the canon universe like imagine both two-bit and marcia have the words "jumping." On their arms and just having this dreaded feeling. Or neither of them see it coming, both too busy trying to make sense of everything happening to even think about the words resting on their wrist. Marcia seeing it on two-bits wrist while trying to get him to some place somewhere safe. She doesn't think much of it until she is washing two-bits blood off of her hands after patching him up and freezing seeing the same words that had been on his wrist on her own.

Her heart sinking as the realization hits her. She feels sick at the thought because maybe if she had looked down, maybe, just maybe, she could've stopped it, but deep down, she knows she couldn't have done much. Not one against four guys - five if you counted bev. Anyways, following canon events blah blah blah. It clicks in two-bits head the day he gets "break-up" on his wrist and witnesses marcia break things off with trip. Unfortunately things turn south so fast neither of them really interact until the rodeo where two watches marcia barrel racing.

That's just the first thoughts I have surroundings that soulmate prompt. Things might change regarding that yk? Anyways if yall have ideas please feel free to add because I want yalls opinions on these💖.

";whatever you write on your skin appears on your soulmates skin" / ";soulmates initials on your wrist."

I can't decide which one I like better yk? I feel like it would be cute in both a Canon universe and a modern universe. It's a very basic one but I think if done right it could be cute. Modern times the initial would be cute, have it mixed with like a college au or smth. I haven't thought this one much through if I'm so honest but like picture it.

The two of them attending nearby colleges, not even the same one, and somehow always bumping into eachother. Two-bit who never really gaf when it came to soulmates seeing how easily they could fail a person because his mother was the sweetest person he knew and was left without a simple goodbye (the idea of his father having the right initials but was just the wrong person is such an idea and idk if that makes sense LMAO). Marcia believing in them so much as a kid due to her parents but her focus shifting on surviving in the real world.

Anyways I literally can't think of much more but feel free to add onto this or ask questions about my ideas that I might turn into fics who knows. If there's soulmate connections you would love to see Def lmk because these 3 are only like some that I thought of. Anyways much love Kath🫶.

[ryololart]

Would you love me again? - EPIC the musical

Simon and Evangeline in every universe I could think of

[specific-dreamer]

does this fandom have soulmate aus 🧍🏾‍♀️

if not who’s gonna fix that

[timelines-and-leylines]

not me writing jamilton fanfic in Fucking 2023™

[harry-bowie-mercury]

I need a soulmate au with hozier so goddamn bad with the way that man sings and writes about love.

[hux-and-gay]

Kylux Short Shorts Fest 2024: Day 4: Otherworldly

Forever Destined

—————————————————————————

Pls reblog I don’t have A03 yet.

Okay Guys, Dare I say best Kylux thing I’ve ever written? Also it takes a bit to get to the otherworldly part so just hang in there.

LOTS OF FLUFF, VERY ROMANTIC, FEEL GOOD FIC

Warning: There’s like two in appropriate jokes, and there’s nudity but it’s not rly talked about or used in a sexual way. It’s pretty tame.

Hux grabbed his coat, pulling it over his shoulders, and pushing through his office door. He knew he looked awful. His hair was no longer neatly combed back, he had dark circles under his eyes, and he had lost his reading glasses at some point, which he had been too tired to look for. That was probably a ridiculous idea in hindsight but he just wanted to get home. Rain hit against the widows drowning out the sounds of the city. He didn’t have an umbrella; he'd have to make a dash for the car and hope he wouldn’t ruin his shoes. At least no one was here to see him at this late an hour-

“What the hell are you still doing here?!” 

“SHIT!” Hux nearly jumped out of his skin, he took a second to compose himself before turning to Kylo who was sitting in one of the lobby chairs. “You scared me half to death. I can hardly see you with the lights off!”

“What can I say, I’m a man of mystery.” Kylo said, and even if Hux couldn’t see him he knew he was smirking. 

“No you’re not.” Hux responded bluntly. 

Kylo shook his head and stood up from the chair, checking his phone for the time and stepping towards the exit so Hux could better see him in the light of the office sign that shone through the glass door. “It’s like 4 am why the fuck are you still here?”

4 am? He honestly had not meant to stay there that long, he thought it was midnight or 2 at the latest. He started to say something but stopped himself, raising an eyebrow. “Wait, why are you still here?”

“I was waiting for you.” Kylo said looking down, trying to hide the slight blush on his cheeks.

“Ren, you don’t even have the Night Shift. There’s no way you waited all this time.” Hux commented skeptically. 

“I didn’t want you to walk home alone in the freezing rain.” He insisted, stepping closer to him gently running his fingers though Hux’s hair. 

“Ren, your shift gets off at 4 PM. It wasn’t raining when you left. Are you telling me you waited here for 12 HOURS?!” Hux didn’t believe it in the slightest. 

“Alright Alright you got me. I was doing errands in town and when I was walking home I passed by the office and it was close to when your shift ended so I thought I’d stop by, take you home. But you took forever so I fell asleep and when I woke up it was like 3:30 so I honestly was just gonna crash here. I didn’t even know you were still working.” He explained. 

Hux shook his head dumbfounded. “You were going to sleep here?!”

“Yeah well I have six roommates that all snore, I wasn’t really in a rush to get home.” He shrugged. 

Hux sighed, knowing he had walked right into this. “Did you want to come to my place?”

Kylo smiled wide like a child being given a birthday present. “Yes please!”

“Alright,” He turned to the door realizing he actually did have an umbrella. He had left it in the holder from the last time he went to work. He felt stupid for forgetting it for so long and not thinking of it earlier but at least he had one. He grabbed it and shoved it into Ren’s hands. “You’re holding the umbrella.”

“But of course Monsieur~” Kylo said in a terrible French accent, opening the umbrella and reaching for the door. 

“Never do that again,” Hux said, gagging. 

“Okay okay… Can I drive?” He asked giving that smile toddlers give their parents to guilt them into saying yes to things. 

“No.”

“But you’re car is so cool.” He whined. 

“Which Is precisely why I’m not letting you drive.” Hux said buttoning up his coat.

“Hey I’m a pretty good driver. My dad had me driving when I was like 10.” Kylo pointed out. 

“Ren, your dad has been arrested for illegal drag racing before, amongst other things. That’s not reassuring.” He crossed his arms. 

“He won the races.” Kylo added trying the face one last time. 

“My point stands.”

Kylo sighed reluctantly, “Alright alright.” He opened the door. “Ladies first.” He joked, but Hux gave him the “I’m going to strangle you” glare so he immediately stopped laughing and stepped out first, holding the umbrella for Hux as they made their way to his car. 

Hux stepped tentatively through the parking lot trying not too get wet while also staying in pace with Kylo. “Are you even watching where you’re going?! You’re leading us straight through the puddles! I’m going to ruin my shoes!”

“Hey you gave me control of the umbrella.” Kylo said as they stepped up to the car. Hux rolled his eyes and quickly got in the driver's seat unbuttoning his wet coat once he was seated but not taking it off. Ren walked around the car and quickly got in the passenger seat, shoving the umbrella in the back. Hux flipped on the windshield wipers and brights then backed out of the parking lot and drove carefully through the rain to his apartment. 

“Man, I kind of wish you didn’t have that umbrella. Your hair looks all cute when it’s all wet.” Kylo mused.

“Ren please, I'm too tired to flirt and I’m trying to focus on the road.” Hux responded almost yawning. 

“I've done a lot more than flirt while you drive and you’ve never crashed~” He said smirking, reaching to place a hand on Hux's thigh as he drove. 

“Yes I have, but right now I don’t want to start something. When we get home we are going to bed, nothing more. It’s too late for anything else.” Hux insisted, not even flinching at Kylo’s touch. 

“Are you sure?” Kylo asked again. 

“Yes, I’m going to bed. You’re welcome to stay up and entertain Millicent, but we both have work in the morning.”

“You can call out. I do it all the time.”

“I’m not calling out.” He said firmly. 

“Fine…”

 “Have you ever thought of what we’d be like in other worlds, like would we still know each other? Would we get along?” Kylo asked suddenly. 

A skeptical look crossed Hux’s face. “No? And we don’t get along.”

“We get along pretty well when we’re alone,” he said in a sultry tone rubbing Hux’s thigh gently, kneading his tense muscles. 

Hux ignored him. “You watch too many multiverse movies.”

“Not really, I just like movies, particularly sci-fi. You know they’re making a new Star Wars movie. The force awakens, I think it’s called?” He rambled as Hux continued to drive. 

“Why are they still milking that franchise? Didn’t people hate the last three?” Hux questioned. 

“Eh not really anymore.” Kylo shrugged and moved his hand back to the armrest following the rain drops on the windows with his eyes.

“Well I’m sure these new ones will piss people off all over again.”

“Oh I’m sure they will… do you wanna come?” He asked. 

“Come where?” Hux internally cringed. His mind was far too dirty for that sentence. 

“To see Star Wars?” Kylo clarified. 

“No.”

“Okay, I’m going to buy you a ticket anyway.”

“I know.”

They sat in awkward silence till Kylo turned on the radio and closed his eyes leaning his head against the headrest. Hux found himself humming the song as he drove, glancing at Ren whenever there was a red light and admiring how peaceful he looked, his raven hair falling down in front of his face, having come loose from the messy bun he wore to work hours ago. Eventually they pulled up to Hux’s apartment and Hux gently nudged him to wake him up as they pulled into the parking spot. 

“Huh? What? I wasn’t sleeping!” Kylo stammered, jolting awake. 

Hux had to hold back a laugh. “We’re here.”

“Oh.” Kylo grabbed the umbrella and got out of the car. “Jeez it’s fuckin cold.” He remarked. The passenger door closed and he walked around the car opening Hux’s door and holding out a hand to him. Hux took it but as he was stepping out of the car a particularly strong gust of wind slammed into them and the umbrella blew from Kylo’s hand. Suddenly they were both getting drenched. “Oh Fuck! Don’t worry I’ll go get it!” Kylo yelled over the storm. Before Hux could say anything Ren was running off chasing the umbrella down the wet street. 

“Ren, wait!” Hux called out. He was about to say “Leave it” but the man had already bolted off. So Hux sighed and chased after him. “Ren slow down! You’re going to sli-“

Kylo jumped and snagged the umbrella from the air. “Got it! Woah!” As soon as his feet came down on the concrete he slipped just as Hux had warned, collapsing onto his stomach with a thud. Hux didn’t have enough time to slow down, in trying to not hit into Kylo he found himself falling too, landing on top of him. 

Kylo gasped. “Oh shit! Hux, are you okay?”

To Kylo’s surprise Hux began laughing. 

“Huh what’s so funny?”

“We’re absolutely drenched aren’t we?” He laughed.

Ren smiled, it was a rare occasion that Hux relaxed like this and just let himself be happy. “Oh good I thought you hit your head or something.”

“On what? Your chest? I’m kind of laying ontop of you,” he continued laughing in a carefree calming manner, his little smile was intoxicating. “If anything I should ask you if you're okay, you were the one who fell on the concrete.”

Kylo pulled himself out from under Hux standing up and pulling the man into his arms smiling at him affectionately as the rain poured down their faces. “I’m okay because you’re here with me.”

“You’re always so cheesy.” Hux said shaking his head smiling. “Should we get out of the freezing rain?” Hux asked, unable to hide his affection for the man in front of him. 

“I don’t know, if you get sick you can call off of work and I can pamper you all I want~” Kylo said nuzzling his nose against Hux’s face, feeling his warmth amongst the cold, and breathing in the smell of rain and vanilla.  

“Oh stop it, you’re not seriously wishing for me to get sick.” Hux joked, unable to hide the heat rising to his cheeks.

“Okay yeah, maybe not, you can get kinda grumpy.” He snickered, scooping Hux up in his arms and running up to the door of the apartment before he could protest.

“Put me down!” Hux yelled, embarrassed.

“No,” Kylo smiled, planting a kiss on his wet hair. 

“Ren, The key is in my pocket you have to put me down so I can unlock the damn door! We’re getting soaked.” He instead, Looking up at him. 

“Alright alright,” He set him down on his feet gently and Hux quickly unlocked the door, taking off his drenched coat as soon as they got inside. 

“Just lay out your clothes on the couch or something. If it’s not dry by morning I’ll put it in the dryer. I’ll see if I have anything big enough to fit you.” He said petting millicent who had rubbed up on him when they got inside. 

“Don’t worry about it, I don’t need to wear anything~” Kylo flirted. 

“Alright then.” Hux said seemingly unphased by the notion of Ren being naked. “I’m going to get dressed for bed, food is in the kitchen, but please do not empty my fridge, Phasma does that enough already.” He started unbuttoning his shirt nonchalantly as he walked towards the bathroom. 

“Hux?” Kylo called out. 

“Hm?” He said quizzically, turning his head. Quickly Ren grabbed him pinning him against the door post running his hands along his chest sliding them under his wet undershirt, hux made a quiet sound of pleasure and Kylo leaned in to kiss him, but Hux pushed his mouth away gently with his hand. “Wait till we get to bed~” He pushed off from Ren who caught him smirking slightly as he exited for the bathroom. 

When Hux had left, Ren undressed, Laying his clothes out on the coffee table to dry, and made his way to Hux’s room, flopping down on his bed, and turning on some soft music on his phone. The street light shown through the blinds casting a soft glow on the sheets. Hux exited the bathroom in a black silk robe drying his hair with a towel, which made it look an absolute mess but Kylo thought it made him look even cuter. He patted the spot of the bed beside him and Hux slid next to him draping himself over Kylo’s chest as Kylo gently petted his still slightly damp hair. 

“Ren, are you tired?” Hux asked, eyes closed, a look of satisfaction on his face. 

“Probably, but not Really, you?” 

“I think I can stay up a bit longer.”

“Good because I think we were in the middle of something.” He pulled Hux further onto him, their chests pressing against each other, the robe sliding down his arms. He gently took his face into his hands and kissed him tenderly. 

Suddenly the both of them were bombarded with visions and sensations as if actual sparks had flared from their kiss. Images, voices, flashed through their minds, as if calling to them.

“I- I dont know how to love, I don’t know how to be loved”

“Uh I think you dropped something”

“Since we've been together for

a while now-“

“I can’t kill you, I love you to much”

“Careful Ren, That your personal interests does not interfere with orders from leader snoke from leader snoke.”

“I want that map. For your sake I suggest you get it.” 

“Dost though know how mine heart stirs for the? Surely not, as I have guarded it well.” 

“In every reality, in every world, I will always love you.”

Then just as quickly as it started, they were both jolted back to their own reality, panting and breathless. 

“What the fuck was that?!” Hux said, quickly scrambling up to a sitting position.

“I don’t know… it’s like I was seeing different versions of myself… of us. Wait, Kiss me! But longer!” Kylo ordered, he still seemed winded and his face was definitely flush and hot. 

Normally Hux would have rolled his eyes at the demand but he was curious, quickly he leaned down pulling Kylo into a hot greedy kiss, fingers tangling in his long hair. 

Just as quickly as the last visions came they arrived again but this time it only seemed to shift through a few before settling on one to portray more vividly.

There was a cobblestone quart yard decorated with greenery, Kylo slunk against the wall to the entrance hiding in the shade. He was wearing some form of fantasy or medieval garb, sword sheathed at his hip. He was watching someone. It was Hux. He was in similar attire and was sitting atop a stone bench back facing Kylo as he picked up a water lilly from the pond in front of him.

“Lord Ren, I canst hear you. Thou art sloppy with acts of secrecy, perhaps thou shalst learneth to be more stealty when meeting one’s love in secret.” Hux said not moving from where he sat or turning his head to face him. 

“Dost thou say thy love me?” Kylo inquired. 

“Nye, I sayist thou love me.” Hux shook his head, back still too him. 

“Dost thou?” Kylo persisted. 

“Love thee?” Laughs “what funny words. Canst thou let me look upon thine face ere I confess.”

“Apologies, mine Prince, I not mean to spy on the from afar.” He stepped out of the shadows and Hux turned to him fiddling with the water Lily in his hands. Ren gently brushed a strand of ginger hair out of his face. “Why thy beauty truly rivals that of the gods~”

Then the vision faded leaving both of them back in Hux’s apartment winded. They had opened their mouths at some point in the kiss but they couldn’t remember exactly what they’d done. 

“What in the bloody hell is going on!” Hux said, alarmed. 

“I’m not sure… did it feel calming to you?” Kylo asked. 

“As ridiculous as it sounds… yes… This is all so strange… I’ve kissed people before and I’m fairly sure I’d remember if THAT happened.”

“You’ve kissed other people?!” Kylo feigned shock, he of course already knew Hux had prior relationships. 

“Oh shove off, you have too.” Hux said, shaking his head and rolling his eyes. 

Kylo changed the subject back to the visions. “Hux this might sound weird, but I think I’ve heard of this before…”

“You have?” Hux asked genuinely curious. 

“Yeah it was in a book. It said when you kiss your soulmate, you see all of the different lives you have together in different universes. Like a way of showing you that you’re connected in every one of them, in every world.” Kylo explained, the awe and wonder on his face, giving away that he whole heartedly believed in such a tale. 

“And what book was this?” Hux asked skeptically. 

Kylo sounded nervous. “Uhm… uh… a gay romance novel?” 

“That’s ridiculous Ren!”

“Does It matter?”

“What?”

“Does It matter if We really know what it is? It feels right, and it makes me know I’m meant to be with you. That’s all that matters.” He pulled Hux against his chest again caressing his chin and gently angling his head to look up at him. 

“I- I suppose you’re right.” Hux looked to the side, blushing profusely. 

“I love you Armitage, In every universe.” Kylo said, gently running his hands across his body and nuzzling his face into his neck. 

“I  love you too.” Hux echoed breathlessly. Before he could even think the words had been out of his mouth. 

Kylo smiled against Hux, feeling the warm skin on his face. Hux never said I love you. Kylo had waited so long, but now it finally felt earned and it made him feel so happy. “Will you be my soulmate?” He asked gently, as he laid his head across Hux’s shoulder. 

Hux smiled, wrapping his arms and legs around Kylo’s muscular body into a tender embrace. “I always have been.”

Just FYI

Song in the Car:

Song on Kylo’s phone:

—————————————————————————

@lessdenied @fives-ren @jaynesilver @thegeneralorder @diabollicallyangelic

@existing-sadly

@theosb0rnway

@dragonflies-draw-flame @hpdmism @fridayincarnate @tomatette

@transmasc-vampire-is-tired

@bostarsky

@kyluxshortshorts

[regulusstarz]

If you know me, you know im a HUGE fan of XOXO droplets. But recently, my sibling has gotten me into EPIC: the musical. And what did i do? Ofcourse i started constructing an AU, haha.

But! This AU includes both mine and my best friend's @natelawtism oc's!! Also credits to him for letting me yap about it and coming up with ideas with me, ur the coolest.

First off: The roles! (Mind you this is a somewhat work-in-progress, im currently still thinking out all the Lore haha), the ones who have a (?) Behind them are things I'm still thinking over!

Odysseus: Nate

Penelope: Rowan (sylvie's oc)

Calypso: Koi (my oc)

Circe: Lyra (my oc)

Polites: Everett (?)

Aeolus: Luciane (my oc)

Telemachus: Evalie (Sylvie's oc)

Sirens: JB & Missy (?)

The prophet: Lynn (?)

The Gods stay the same! Except for Aeolus (and Calypso).. but shhh, we don't talk about that.

Feel free to ask questions about it! I'll probably make more posts in the future <3 (some drawings coming soon perhaps)

[da-birb-writes-sometimes]

The Song We Are Drawn Towards; Floyd Leech

A song rests in the heart, calling out to the one who completes the harmony. Their match pulls at them, as the moon does the tide.

Main Character: Floyd Leech

Supporting Roles: Mrs. Leech, Jade Leech, Azul Ashengrotto, Deuce Spade (if you squint)

Content: Soulmate AU (I use the term soul match instead), gender-neutral reader, hurt/comfort/crack, reader is not amused, can be read as familial, platonic, or romantic and that was done on purpose, some Azul slander

Content Warning: Swearing, blood (Floyd)... just Floyd things (I love him, but he comes with his own warning). I don't want to spoil the ending but do read it with caution if it's triggering for you.

Word Count: 5 K

Author's Note: Please do not repost my works to other websites or into AI software. I will be writing more parts for this AU, but for other characters; you can guess who based on the hints I left in Azul & Jade's stories. I switch between third and second-person point of view. I struggled writing for four days and then I wrote 4.7K in one sitting, help me; that makes like 15.5K words in like a week. Don't worry, I do touch grass.

Azul's Story & Prologue | Jade's Story

Floyd was a bundle of energy, swimming all over the place, and excitedly talking to anyone and everyone who crossed paths with him. “Tell me, tell me, tell me!” He would pull at the fins and limbs. “Tell me about your soul match!!!”

Ever since he was first told the story of soul matches, he has been obsessed, wanting to hear everyone’s story that he happened to swim across. Most merfolk would just quickly swim in the opposite direction of the hyperactive young eel-mer. Others would humour him and tell him what it felt like. But his favourite by far was that of his parents.

“Mommmmmm,” he whined, clutching onto her tail fin so that she couldn’t leave. “Can you tell me the story of what it felt like feeling your soul match for the first time? And what it was like meeting dad?~” He looked at her with his biggest pleading eyes, even though he has heard the story at least a hundred times from both his mom and dad. “Pretty pleaseeeeeee?!~”

Mrs Leech giggled, and sat down on Floyd’s bed, kissing him on the cheek. “Aren’t you tired of hearing it, my little eel?”

Floyd clutched onto her arm, “Nuh-uh!”

She shook her head, amused by his insistence. “Well, for me, the song felt like the heat from the hydrothermal vents at the bottom of the ocean; down there it may seem dark and lifeless, but there was a scorching heat that feeds all life.” She hummed, smoothing over a little nick that she noticed on Floyd’s arm. “And the pull… hmm, it was gentle, like the tugging of a cool current.”

Floyd sighed with contentment, finally settling down for the night. “Mom, what do you think my soul match will be like?”

Mrs. Leech tucked his hair behind his ear, “There’s no way to tell before it happens, my little elver. Only the Sea Witch knows, and she’s very secretive about those sorts of things.” She got a mischievous look on her face and kissed his nose. “But whoever is your soul match, be they mer, fae, beastman, or human, they will be lucky to have you.” 

“Mommmm,” he tried to push her off, but he didn’t mean it, his giggling giving it away. He got serious for a moment and hugged his mom. “No matter who they are, I won’t leave the ocean for them. I love you, mom.”

Mrs. Leech squished her son against her, placing her head on top of his. “I love you more, baby… And whatever decision you make, to stay in the ocean or go live on land, I will always love and support you.” Holding onto him tight, she placed a kiss on his forehead. “And that goes for you too, Jade, I know you’ve been eavesdropping.”

The mass of blankets on the bed on the other side of the room stirred, revealing Jade who was acting like he totally wasn’t listening in on their conversation. “I know, mother. I love you too,” he whispered, letting out a yawn, tired from the day.

“Oh, how did I get so lucky to have not one but two sweet sons?” Mrs Leech, still holding onto Floyd, swam over to Jade’s bed and had him in a tight squeezing hug. “I love my little elvers!”

Both of the boys accepted the squeezes, Jade patting his mom on the shoulder and Floyd giving back his own tight squeeze. Like mother like son, as some would say. “We love you too, mom,” they said in unison. And they all sat there, in a big eel squeeze.

…

…

When he woke up on his sixth birthday he was confused. Why wasn’t there a song in his head? Where is his soul match? 

The good mood that he was bound to be in that day morphed into confusion, hurt, and anger. But not like the anger he was used to, it wasn’t a hot, short, spark, instead, it felt festering, an ember wanting nothing more than to combust. So instead of staying around his brother, who only pissed him off even more because, of course, Jade got his soul match. He swam out to the edge of the reef so that he could be alone.

“ARGH,” he lashed out at a rock, scratching at it with his claws. “WHY?! WHY ME?!” He screamed out into the drop-off, no answer but the dark looking back at him. He felt hot, briny tears start to fall down his face. He had dreamt of this day since he could remember. He wanted someone to not be scared of him. For someone to look at him with joy. For someone to accept him. “WHERE ARE THEY?!”

By the time he got out the initial rage at his situation, he floated down into the sand and looked up to the filtered sunlight coming up from above. He was still angry, but it was something small, and it felt like there was something stuck in his throat and he couldn’t get it out. Sighing, he closed his eyes… I really should go home, mom and dad are probably worried…

Wait, what was tickling him? Ugh, that’s annoying. “Scram off, would ya,” he muttered, opening an eye.

Beside him was a cleaner shrimp, going over the new scrapes he had given himself during his moment of anger.

“Eh? A little shrimp like you is brave,” he chuckled, poking one of its feelers. 

The shrimp ignored the poke, still cleaning the wounds before moving up and going through his hair. Floyd was half tempted to swat it away for bothering him, but he didn’t. For some reason, he found the shrimp’s actions comforting. Like the ocean sent this little cleaning crustacean to help him heal. He was still mad, hurt, and confused, but if some shrimp didn’t mind him, even at his most volatile moment, then maybe not everything is as bad as it seems.

Eventually, though, he had to leave his new little friend and go home, and face his family. He wore a happy mask when he entered the home, trying to hide the festering part of his heart.

“FLOYD!” His mom crashed into him, squeezing him tight. “Where were you?! I was worried sick! Are those scrapes? What happened to you?!”

He squeezed her back, not as strong as he would normally, debating whether or not to tell her the truth. But he saw his dad and Jade whispering to each other, no doubt talking about his soul match. His eye twitched, “I was just curious about where they were,” he whispered. He wasn’t lying, but it wasn’t the entire truth. The truth could always come later.

…

…

…

Floyd was walking around campus, bored out of his mind. Azul and Jade were at the entrance ceremony for the new minnows. As was his main source of entertainment. It wasn’t his fault that Riddle was so amusing when he gets all red from anger, just like a goldfish. So he was just going around, a bad mood apparent, so people quickly walked in the opposite direction when they saw him.

“Ugh! There’s nothin’ interestin’ hereeeee,” he muttered to himself. Even getting lectured by Beakfish is better than utter boredom. He rolled his eyes, thinking about Azul giving his stuffy formal speech to the new minnows in their dorm. “Tch, boring.”

Hmm, the sun did sure feel nice though. Maybe he would take a nap like Sea Lion did. So he found somewhere where he wouldn’t be disturbed, stretched out, and closed his eyes, dreaming about the Coral Sea. 

In his dream, he was back near the drop-off, by the rock he nearly destroyed during his outburst when he first realized he didn’t have a soul match. Over the years, he wasn’t nearly as bitter as he once was, but it still stung. But he was alone, his little shrimp friend was nowhere to be seen. “Little shrimp,” he called out, but his crustacean friend didn’t appear. Maybe they too got tired of Floyd and left. Or maybe they were… maybe a predator finally caught up with his little friend, as he always thought they were too brave for their own good.  “Little shrimp?” He called again, but still nothing. But then a net came down from above, catching Floyd in its wake. He struggled, but something else was there. A faint song.

Floyd gasped awake in a cold sweat, heart pounding and racing. “It was just a dream, snap out of it,” he hissed to himself, shaking his head. Ugh, why did it feel like he was still caught in that net though? And that song was still stuck in his head. Stupid dreams.

Oh, the sun is setting, Azul and Jade have got to be done with sorting out the freshmen by now. Heh, wonder if there are any interestin’ minnows around? Eh, Azul is bound to bring some entertainment by getting some chump in a contract. That at least would bring in some fun. 

Groaning, he stretched out and got up, making his way back to Octavinelle, still not quite in a good mood but not in a bad one. He was just floating in between.

Azul and Jade were conversing among themselves when he entered the room, Azul looking more agitated than he would normally. Huh, that’s intriguing. 

“Somethin’ has all your tentacles in a bunch, Azul.~” He leaned against the house warden’s chair, getting into his personal bubble. Ugh, he still felt weird, and that song was still there.

Azul shot him an annoyed look but ignored him trespassing in on his space. “It has nothing to concern you with, Floyd,” he huffed, massaging his temple. 

If even mentioning that it has nothing to do with him, it just puts Floyd on a mission to discover exactly what it was.

Jade chuckled, mirth in his eyes. “He will just keep on pestering you if you don’t tell him, Azul” his smile was sharp and he looked over to his brother, his smile widening. Floyd also smiled, getting further into Azul’s bubble.

“Fine,” Azul snipped, “if you must know the ceremony didn’t go exactly as planned.” This didn’t satisfy Floyd, as he just got further into the bubble, prodding. Azul sighed, knowing it would just be better to get it over with so he didn’t have to put up with the eel’s antics. “I had to clean up someone’s mess, chasing their wayward familiar throughout campus. They also sent the mirror into a tizzy. Satisfied?”

Well, that wasn’t all that interesting. “Awwww, and I thought you’d finally met your cuttlefish, Azullll,” he whined but got out of his personal bubble.

Azul’s eye twitched at the nickname Floyd had dubbed his soul match but didn’t say anything, knowing that if he did, it would just end up with him lying in bed with a splitting migraine. “No,” he dusted off his chest, “we have no control over when we meet our soul matches, and you know that.”

Oh, Floyd knew that very well, he didn’t need Azul subtly shoving it in his face either. Even if the other man wasn’t privy that Floyd didn’t have a soul match.

…

…

It’s been about three weeks since Floyd had that dream, still feeling like he was stuck in a net, and that infernal hum of a song hasn’t left his mind. By now, everyone on campus was aware that it was better to avoid him than risk getting on his bad side. Ugh, is this what it feels like to have a soul match? 

He squinted his eyes, and stopped dead in his tracks, pausing in the middle of the hall. Is this what it feels like to have a soul match? His eyes went wide, still frozen in the hallway. IS THIS WHAT IT FEELS LIKE TO HAVE A SOUL MATCH?! After all this time, was there finally someone?

He started running, letting the pulling sensation guide him. Feeling the ebb and flow of it, the only kind shared with soul matches. The dream! Maybe the Sea Witch sent it to him? Finally gifted him the blessing that she has given others? He tested the waters by messing with the volume of the song in their head and he felt it falter like they were surprised by it. Where are you? But as soon as he started giving chase he stopped. People gave him weird looks, but he paid no mind to them.

His hands turned into fists, and he shook slightly, his joy and excitement shifted into bitterness and anger. WHERE ARE YOU?! He shouted at them through the song, letting out over a decade of bottled-up emotions into the open. WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?! But all he got in return was the gentle hum that had started it all.

“Floyd, are you alright? You seem out of sorts,” Jade hummed, eyes boring into his soul, searching for what could have possibly caused the sudden running. Calculating.

Floyd frowned back at his brother, but he knew that he couldn’t just outright tell him, as he hadn’t told anyone about his soul match situation. So instead he bit down on the inside of his cheek, hard enough to draw a bit of blood to distract himself. “Eh, thought I just saw Goldfishie, but it was just someone else.”

Where are you? Where the fuck are you?! Where were you for all these years?!

…

…

You were enjoying some lunch with your friends — if you can call Ace and Grim your friends. At least Deuce was considerate enough to make up for it… most of the time. The four of you were chatting, mainly Grim and Ace complaining about homework and the professors, but your mind was elsewhere. In the three short weeks that you’ve found yourself in Twisted Wonderland, they have somehow squeezed their way into your heart, even though they make you question your life decisions on more than a daily basis. On some days it was an hourly basis.

But something else has also been on your mind than just being in some sort of dimension themed on a beloved yet problematic movie studio. There’s been a song playing in your head since you arrived. It hasn’t been very loud, but it seemed to change in its emotion frequently. You could tell when it was excited, bored, frustrated, and you had no idea why. It was fine the first day, as you just chalked it up to inter-dimension technicalities, but it has persisted.

So, there you were, sitting with your friends, enjoying your lunch. Or you were until you were rudely interrupted by the song in your head screaming at you. “Shit,” you hissed, dropping your fork, and covering your ears even though it did nothing to help with the sudden onslaught.

Ace, Deuce and Grim all gave you looks but turned back to the conversation they were having. Not thinking anything of it. But someone else noticed, pushing up his glasses before leaving. You paid no attention though, as your attention was elsewhere.

Inside your mind was a voice, it had started quiet, and full of wonder. Where are you? But then it turned venomous, bitter, sharp, and screaming. WHERE ARE YOU?! WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?! You didn’t really know what to make of it, and it’s not like Crowley in all of his ‘kindness’ and ‘generosity’ gave you an encyclopedia to explain any of this stuff.

Deuce shook your shoulder gently, pulling you from out of your thoughts. “Hey, are you okay? You’ve been staring at your food for a while…”

You shook your head, ignoring the screaming in your head, and gave him a reassuring smile. “Ah, I’m okay, just was thinking is all. Nothing to worry about,” you shoot him a smile as reassurance. Deuce still didn’t look convinced but he trusted you and dropped the subject.

Where are you? Where the fuck are you?! Where were you for all these years?! The voice seemed to scream through the melody. WHERE THE FUCK WERE YOU?!

…

…

…

Floyd’s mood has only been worse since finding out that he had a soul match. Even with the amount of obsessive screaming he sent their way, all they sent back was that gentle hum. Ugh, it was really annoying. He was half tempted to just hunt them down so at least he knew who he was mentally screaming at. But he would always clench his fists and stop himself. As much as he would like nothing more than to see their face as they saw him running at them, he wanted a good reason to do so. 

Yes, even though he was harassing them through the song, he wanted a reason why he should seek them out. He was just… hurt. He didn’t know how long he would feel like that, but it was something that was difficult to shove aside, even if they were the person that was supposed to make him happy. He couldn’t just forget about it.

Sighing, he clutched his shrimp plush to his chest, inspired by his shrimp friend from his childhood. “Eh, little shrimp, what should I do? Should I seek them out, or should they find me?”

The shrimp plush just looked back with its unblinking eyes. If it were his actual cleaner shrimp, they would have shuffled around in his hair, looking for scraps and reassuring him in their silent manner. Even though the plush was silent, it was still reassuring in its own way.

He heard Jade shuffling around in his sheets, but Floyd knew that Jade slept like a rock. He shook his head and walked to the Octavinelle lounge area, plopping down onto a sofa by the aquarium, criss-cross apple sauce style, still holding on to his shrimp plush. His reflection looked back out at him, eyes searching, but there were no answers. Just his own conflicted thoughts, the gentle humming of his soul match, and the snores coming from some dorms.

The gentle pitter-patter of footsteps took him away from just staring into the aquarium. “Azul?”

The footsteps and intruder on Floyd’s pondering and staring at the aquarium time was none other than Azul, wearing his house robe, matching slippers, and a hair bonnet. Azul squinted his eyes, as he wasn’t wearing his glasses. “Floyd,” he sounded just as equally confused to find someone else awake at this un-Sevenly-like hour. “What are you doing up?”

“Eh, couldn’t sleep,” he wasn’t in the mood to tease Azul for his sleep get up. “You?”

Azul sighed, “You and I are in the same boat then… don’t you dare utter a word about this to Jade.”

Floyd looked down at his shrimp plush and looked back up, “Don’t mention it.” He looked back into the aquarium, most of the fish were hidden away for the night, but other sea creatures were swimming and scuttling about.

Azul cleared his throat and continued on with his business, whatever that might be at this hour, leaving the eel to his thoughts. Perhaps he could solve not just Floyd’s current down mood but also answer someone’s burning questions.

…

…

…

By some cruel twist of fate, you found yourself in the Mostro Lounge VIP room against your will, having been carried there by none other than Jade Leech. You would have put up a fight, but in all honesty, you would rather be carried bridal style than like a sack of potatoes. You don’t even know how you ended up in this situation, last time you checked, you hadn’t made a deal with the scheming house warden of Octavinelle. So why did he seek you out?

“Prefect, I’ve heard through the grapevine that you’ve been… troubled,” he said in his overly nice business voice.

You squinted your eyes at him, knowing better than to trust anything he says at face value. “And what exactly have you heard,” you countered. 

Azul looked at Jade and he exited the room. That doesn’t seem like a good sign. He waited for a few moments before continuing. “That you’ve been distracted, not all there. Oh, don’t give me that look, I don’t want a contract with you,” he rolled his eyes upon seeing the stink eye you were giving him.

“Then what do you want, Azul? Last time I checked you only did things for others if you got more out of the deal than them.” Yeah, you were being sassy, but he tricked your friends, your dumb friends, so he deserved the attitude.

Azul sputtered at the comment before pulling himself together. “I’m just looking out for others in the same boat as us.”

You raised your brow, “Us?”

“Yes, us, Prefect,” he pinched his brow. “I take it that you have a song in your head?” You nodded and he took it as a sign to continue with his monologue. “Much as I suspected then. You have a soul match, which I take wherever you’re from doesn’t have. You have a bond with a mer. It can be familial, platonic and or romantic, a match made by the Sea Witch herself.”

You blinked, letting all of that sink in. “Uh, but why?” Literally, why? Why would the Sea Witch match you with a merperson?

Azul just gave you a look, “Why not? It is not for us to question why the Sea Witch chooses our matches.”

“We should question it though,” you snap at him. “We should question everything! Like why? Who is it to determine our fate?” The stress of the past few weeks had finally caught up, and you were scared, stretched too thin, and tired, so damn tired. “I didn’t ask for this! I didn’t ask for any of this!” You smacked your hands against the desk. You were going to say more but shut your mouth. You were talking to Azul Ashengrotto, who was known for using others' weaknesses against them. Why were you letting this all out into the open with him of all people?

Azul sat there, with a small shocked expression. “Just let me know if you want help finding them,” he slid you a piece of paper. Despite your better judgement, you take it, shoved it into your bag and left without saying anything else. “Hope to speak with you soon, Pre-”

You slam the door in his face before he could say anything else, shaking slightly. Sighing to yourself, you take out the piece of paper, now crumpled and creased.

“A song rests in the heart, calling out to the one who completes the harmony. Their match pulls at them, as the moon does the tide.” That is what the Sea Witch told us. I know what you think of me, Prefect, but all I want is for you two to meet. If you wish to seek them out please feel free to see me. - Azul Ashengrotto

…

…

Floyd sat in the Octavinelle pool, still festering over everything. Even though he was still in his human form, he didn’t want to leave the pool. Everything was quiet until he hissed in pain. Ah, so after all this time his soul match decides to make a commotion? Damn, they sounded pissed, their anger clear in the song… but also tired, so tired. Huh, so maybe they weren’t too different from him.

Where are you? He sang, reaching out softly this time. He didn’t like this feeling, at least not from them.

Surprisingly the song snapped back at him, much like his shrimp friend would when he came to them all banged up. Why do you want to know?!

Well, that gave him pause. Heh, maybe this Shrimpy was more gutsy than he gave them credit for. Heh!~ I want to findddd youuuuu!~ He sang, a giggle escaping his lips.

I don’t want you to find me! Leave me alone! I didn’t ask for this! I don’t know you! Stranger danger! STRANGER DANGER! 

Floyd could imagine a shrimp scuttling back and forth, snapping their pinchers at him and it made him laugh even more. Awww, Shrimpy!~ I’mma hunt your ass down nowwww!~

The song rang sharp, oh yeah, he would be hearing a ringing in his ears for a few hours due to that. GO AWAY!

I’m comin’ for yo ass, here I comeeeeee~ He laughed one more time before pulling himself from the pool, excited for what was about to come. You kept me waitin’ for this long, only fair for me to find you!~

Azul could hear Floyd’s laughter from his office. This wasn’t exactly how he was imagining on helping Floyd find his soul match, but oh well, it’s best for them to meet on their own terms anyway. Hey, you could have done it the calm way, but with Floyd as your soul match, he should have expected the eel to do things the… well, the Floyd way.

So Floyd went running down the hallway, still soaking wet and dripping water everywhere, laughing like a madman. Some other mers looking for their soul matches gave him weird looks, but they minded their own business. “Oh, Shrimpyyyyyyyyy!~ Where are youuuuu?~” He sang out, still laughing.

Meanwhile, you were on the way back to Ramshackle, eyes shifting everywhere since your soul match seemed to change their tune all of a sudden. I’m coming to get your ass, Shrimpy!~ Kept on being sung in the song, so yeah, you were rightfully scared shitless by this entire situation. Who the hell wouldn’t be if they were in your shoes?! So you were trying to make a beeline back to the safety of your dorm. Maybe you should have made that contract with Azul after all… instead of being hunted for sport by someone that some octopus lady decided was your match. And why did they insist on calling you Shrimpy? Weren’t shrimps like the cockroaches of the ocean? What the hell my guy?

“SHRIMPY WHERE ARE YOU?!~” A loud voice rang down the hall.

Oh shit. Oh fuck. You chanted to yourself. Should you try to make a last-ditch effort to make it to the safety of your dorm, or should you hide in the broom closet until they leave? Run? Hide? The increasingly fast footsteps made the decision for you. It was a dumb decision, yes…

...You booked it.

I HEAR YOU RUNNING SHRIMPY!~ They sang in your head with glee. Heh, cute that you think you can escape me!~ Best hope you’re a fast runner Shrimpy!~

What was their issue?! LEAVE ME ALONE! WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM?!

They pouted. They had the audacity to pout?! But Shrimpyyyy, you’re my soul match! Stop runnin’ so I can catch you! My ‘problem’ is that I don’t have you!

Oh Sevens, you can hear them catching up with you. You would never make it to Ramshackle at this point. Shit. Maybe you should have hidden in that broom closet… THERE! An open door! You got in and quietly shut the door, holding your breath.

“Shrimpyyyyyyy! Marco!” They called out, running past the door. “Come on, Shrimpy! It’s not nice to hide!~”

Once you couldn’t hear their footsteps or their horrifying version of Marco-Pollo, you took in some much-needed air. Silently thanking your lucky stars that they went by your hiding spot. Yeah, maybe you would sleep in here for the night since they would still be able to get you until the sun rises… if you could even sleep.

SHRIMPYYYYYY, WHERE ARE YOU?~ OH SHRIMPYYYYYYY!~ Yeah, definitely not sleeping. So you sat in the closet until you saw the rays of sunlight seep beneath the cracks.

Yeah, you’re taking Azul up on his offer, since this is starting to feel like a horror movie and not something from fanfiction you would read back at home.

…

You looked everywhere before setting foot into the Octavinelle pool room since your soul match was definitely in there somewhere. “Pst, Azul?” You called out, hoping that he would answer.

His head popped up from the pool, a faint glow coming from beneath the water. “Ah, Prefect. Did you change your mind?” 

If by change your mind you mean be scared shitless, then yes. But you held the comment back. Eugh, it felt like you were being dragged into the water, but you stayed on land, the song deafening. If it was this loud for you, then it was probably the same for them. “Help me,” you pleaded with the merman.

“How so,” he said, smug.

Your eye twitched in annoyance, “They are hunting me, Azul. Hunting me!” You hissed. The water rippled, but nothing emerged. “So help me, Ashengrotto!”

But the air of helpfulness he had earlier was gone, this bitch. “I could just go get him for you-”

“NO!” You shouted, realizing your mistake last minute. No, no, no! NO!

Oh? Shrimpy came to me instead? Oh, Shrimpyyyyyyy?~

You tried to get away from the edge of the pool, but you weren’t fast enough; a clawed, webbed hand latched itself onto your ankle. And a familiar face smiled at you with a wide grin. “Found ya, Shrimpy!~”

You gave Floyd a sheepish smile, “Heyyyyyy, can we talk about this? Hahaha…”

Floyd just giggled before dragging you into the water with him, “Nope!~”

Ah, shit-

Bonus!

Azul and Jade looked at you and Floyd, Floyd still curled around you like an extra-large living feather boa.

“You know, not even I would be so cruel to the Prefect,” Jade looked at Azul, giving him a side-eye. But there was a large sadistic smile on his face.

Azul rolled his eyes, “I gave them the chance to meet him peacefully, and they chose not to. It’s not my fault. And you are a horrible liar, Jade.”

Jade just chuckled before looking back at his brother. “Hmm, it’s Floyd, so we both know it would most likely end in something… chaotic.”

Azul sighed, but he was happy for Floyd… and glad that his bad mood was gone, dealing with that for the past few weeks has been hell.

“AZUL! JADE!” You yelled, trying to pry off the eel, “HELP ME!”

But the two just looked on and didn’t interfere.

Fin!

I'm really happy with how all of Octavinelle's parts came out, and I had a lot of fun writing the characters. I have 7 more characters for the Soul Match AU planned for the future; no promises of when those will come out though, mainly waiting for more lore... since SOMEBODY seems to get the most traffic.

Hoped you enjoyed reading!

Link to Masterlist

[witchofthesouls]

Random Miko/Tarn idea that would probably be it's own timeline because I find it funny, here me out here Tarn ends up hearing Miko play an earth song very so often before they meet up

And this could have been some rock or metal ballad, but I think something like Big Balls by ACDC would be funnier

Mainly because now you have a very flustered Tarn, as Miko explains the way that song is messing with English

I think Miko would find it funny, in the usual these words sound the same, but mean different things kind of way

This is absolutely hilarious and pegs the dynamic I thought about them in a 'soulmate au' since Tarn is obsessed and Miko isn't a type to back down from a challenge.

Because Tarn constantly plays the Cybertronian-equivalent of classical and choral music along with propaganda pieces, she can't help but throw herself into the opposite spectrum, especially after everyone's visceral reaction to the Empyrean Suite on piano as well as her own personal Fuck You since she dedicated many years to music lessons for her Heartsong who's really an unrepentant bastard (she can forgive) on Megatron's side (she cannot forgive).

The only is, Miko doesn't explain anything, so now it's her own inside joke about balls. Dirty big balls. Bouncing balls. For charity, of course. And can't forget to dress up!

Tarn thinks that Miko enjoys formal events and Raf's electric taste in music (he was on 'fantasy tavern' playlist mood) along with the Darbys' fondness for cosplay covers it well enough.

(Needless to say, the surrounding humans and the Cybertronians long exposed to the English language know exactly what's being referenced and just enjoying the show.)