Archive of Our Own ^beta

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Hello! This is gonna be just a bunch of Soulmate AUs for most any character you can think of that you headcanon as aro,ace or aroace, that are canonically one of the three, an oc and an established character, or an x ace/aro/aroace reader although I will need specifications! I do also accept polyamorous headcanons and queer platonic headcanons. Gender is no issue! Requests should go in the comments of the most recent chapter posted! I may have a follow up question to confirm relationship, orientation, gender, soulmate au you would like to use, and scenario but don’t be discouraged! You can come up with any au you want!

The fandoms I will write for:

-The Hobbit
-LoTR
-Sherlock Holmes
-Eragon
-Gravity Falls
-One Punch Man

-Markiplier egos

-Doctor Who(any incarnation before 13,as I haven’t watched the most recent season!)

-Ghostbusters 1,2, and 2009 video game!

And I know this is a small list, but for now these are the ones I can remember that I know of. I’ll add more when I can remember them. I also do autistic characters and all that, but I need specifications as to their sensory situation and what would bother them, what they would like, et cetera. I also do headcanons! The pairing of what characters is also in the chapter title! Thank you!

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Gold.

He’d finally found gold. After so many years, that precious substance was right in front of him. Thorin’s heart swelled in his chest and he stepped forward to engulf the little hobbit.

”Never have I been so wrong in my life.”

Just months prior, Thorin had viewed the halfling as a burden, a weight, a heavy boulder slowing the company.

”Looks more like a grocer, than a burglar.”

Bilbo had proven himself, though. His quick thinking with the trolls, his comforting words in Rivendell, and his brave speech about Home.

Always glowing. Always bathed in gold.

The fire roasting the dwarves and reflecting off of his shining locks of hair.

The faint glow of the candles in his beautiful eyes.

The first light of the last light of day giving the rest of its life to his words.

He became gold. His gold. His precious metal to hold to his chest and to admire and to lay on velvet pillows and watch the stars from their window.

He was Gold. Pure. Beautiful. Just like Thorin’s Soulband.

A thin gold line of sparkling leaves around his left forearm. On the underside of his wrist was a small break in the band.

The beginning separated from the end, linked only once the barer’s affection is returned.

When he was young, and prince under a roof and under a father, his soulmate was almost invisible. It started as a tiny dot of gold, shiny and unpresuming.

Until one day, fifty or so years ago, his arm started to itch furiously. Of course, it had to start during a very important diplomatic meeting with the elves.

Traitorous bastards. 

The elves wished to have a grand celebration for the moon, to celebrate its beauty. On the same night the dwarves of weenie were to have a celebration for Mahal, their creator.

He was luckily uninvolved directly with the conversation, but his toe still tapped impatiently at the ludicrous situation.

Although, it made sense that his Golden One would choose then to make himself known. Bilbo always seemed to show up at exactly the right time.

He had tried to ignore it, but the itching soon turned unbearable. He left without an excuse. He was prince. He did what he needed to do when he needed to do it. And right now he had to stop this infernal itching!

As soon as the clang of the large stone door stopped echoing and the bickering died down, he yanked his sleeve out of the way to examine his forearm.

One leaf.

One tiny leaf. Pure gold and shimmering. His Golden One lived.

Now he had to wait for them.

And wait he did.

Until he met Bilbo.

Then he worried.

Soulbands didn’t always match. They didn’t always go to one person. Some people had multiple links. Others didn’t want to link, because of dislike or life situation. He had to be careful.

Had to be sure.

And he finally was.

Bathing in the river was relaxing after trudging through mud and running from orcs all day long. Thorin grunted from the feeling of the water hitting his lower back and giving him a gentle massage. He pushed the water with his fingertips and watched Fili and Kiki try to dunk Dwalin, only to become the victims themselves. Eventually everyone was pulled into the fight and forgoes cleaning for rough-housing. 

Finally, they all left the water. Cleaner than before but more tired. But it was worth it. Most members had silly smiles and laughed at the rather ridiculous quips Bofur made at the fire.

At one point Bombur pointed out that Bilbo had not yet returned from the river. 

At first, Thorin panicked slightly. Could his one be hurt? Would they die? And leave him to walk alone with an empty bed and a hole in his heart? His chest constricted at the thought as tears pricked his eyes.

He didn’t have to worry for long. Bilbo had actually left to bathe after the rest of the company, preferring the alone time.

With a mumble about the little grocer getting mauled, he lumbered over to the river to fetch him. 

The clear moonlight highlighted the already obvious bath to the river in a helpful glow, and his nerves had calmed completely by the time he arrived to the small pile of fine cloths next to a slightly soaked Hobbit.

He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t feel. He could only watch as Bilbo lifted his left arm to slip on his coat.

The arm with his Soulband.

The Soulband with a thin line of mountains colored in Durin’s blue that faded into black at the edges at the beginning and the end.

They matched.

He was his Golden One.

Finding him seemed to be the easy part. 

Telling him was the hard part.

That didn’t turn out to be hard at all. More accidental, really.

An accident involving stone giants and words he wished he could toss into a volcano. 

The look on Blibo’s face, on his One’s face, terrified him. His eyes watered just recalling the memory.

”He’s been lost since he left home.”

He knew. He knew that the hobbit saw. He knew and yet still spat those biting words.

Well, never again.

Never again would he take this gift of companionship and love for granted.

Never again would he let his selfishness cloud his judgement so thoroughly and blind him to what was right in front of him.

He promised.

As he stood on the Carrack, holding that proper hobbit to his heart, he finally understood the strength of hobbits, of Bilbo. A few moments passed before the halfling returned the hug. He breathed a sigh at the contentment in his chest and the itch in his forearm. His wait was over. He was with his one.

And he couldn’t wait to get to Erebor.

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“You’re glaring, my king.”

Thorin scowled at Dwalin, trying to make sure he knew his head would be gone if he spoke again.

Unfortunately, Dwalin knew him well enough to know he wasn’t angry.

Not really.

No, Thorin was pensive. He and Bilbo were soulmates. The warmth they felt around one another was undeniable.

As Thorin stared at the melting snow beneath his shoes and the mushroom caps winding between two split ends of bark, he thought back to their first proper conversation since they had started this quest.

The discussion that transpired was one full of surprising fondness from the dwarf King.

I’m the beginning, he had assumed he was feeling such heat from an illness. A fever, perhaps. But when days turned to weeks, he because suspicious. Another clue was that it fluctuates depending on where he moved.

How far he was from the back of their group.

How far he was from the hobbit.

Thorin’s immediate reaction was that of worry. Protection. The hobbit must defend himself.

He tried to persuade him. Make him angry. Make him want to fight.

It didn’t go as planned.

Bilbo’s anger became directed at him. He had unintentionally excluded him from the group and made him an outcast. In his effort to aid, he did only harm.

Not only that, but holding those feelings of elation whenever he was close, whenever Bilbo glared, whenever he told a riddle or spat a snide remark, Thorin’s heart of ice swelled and made his chest feel tight. So when the day finally came where they confessed...

He couldn’t help himself.

Holding his One’s hand in his and feeling his soft warmth. Gazing into his warm brown eyes and watching as the wind tussled his golden locks.

His brain was completely frazzled. The King’s heart felt tight and full and his words tumbled out in jumbles in time to his rabid heartbeat.

The hobbit was no better off. His face was as red as a tomato and every time he glanced at their clasped hands he would duck his head with a nervous grin.

They were fools in love and they both knew it.

This love hasn’t developed all at once, oh no. They still had much more to know about one another, but having come this far and facing as many perils as they had, they were already deeply connected.

They loved eachother, truly.

Which should be enough reason for Thorin to stop sulking.

“I am aware, Dwalin.” He grumbled.

“I just...my mind forces me in a direction that may cause me trouble, is all.”

Dwalin harrumphed, and the log the pair used as a chair creaked.

“You must discuss this. If only to spare yourself.”

Thorin was never one for marriage.

Not that he was unfaithful, mind you. It was just...certain “duties” of marriage made him wary.

Specifically, the sexual part.

He had never been interested. He had never seen someone and immediately thought of that. For a long time, many many years, the stubborn dwarf thought everyone was in on a giant trick.

Apparently not. He was just different.

Which was okay. Completely fine with it. Less distraction during parties and all that.

It seemed, however, other people were not okay with it. Which was completely absurd. He was the way he was and that’s all there was to it.

He told many of his previous partners this. Most had understood. Others...not so much.

He was worried that Bilbo would be the same.

But he had to tell him.

“I’ll be here, if ya need me.” Dwalin slapped his friend’s shoulder and started cleaning his axe.

Thorin stood and stomped in his usual manner up to Bilbo, who was in the middle of a riddle game with Bofur.

“Well, hello there, my king! Care ta’ join us? We were jus’ havin’ a bit of a contest goin’ on.”

“Uh-no, Bofur. I’d like to speak with you, Bilbo.” The halfling tilted his head slightly and nodded.

“Of course, my king. What about?”

Thorin took his zone’s hand in his own and led them down to a nearby stream and sat in the soft soil.

“I..I must tell you something, my One. A confession.” Bilbo snorted and sat next to his king, grinning at him.

“You’re not gonna tell me you feel The Heat, are you?” They chuckled at the memory of their not-so-direct confession.

“No, my love. No, it is about myself. Something you should know that...might affect how you see me.” He glanced up and saw Bilbo watching him intently with a worried expression in his face.

“I...I have never felt...any sort of um-“ he coughed “-any sort of sexual...inclinations towards anyone. I’ve never really been interested in it.”

He sat with bated breath and watched the ground between them, waiting for the rustling that meant his Love, his Heart, was walking away.

“Is that all?”

Thorin’s head spun to Bilbo.

“You don’t think I’m...that it’s wrong?”

Bilbo snorted.

“Of course not. Then I’d have to think I was wrong as well, and we both know that a Took is never wrong. “

His heart soared at that and with a great heave, he pulled the halfling with him as they fell back into the melting snow, kissing and hugging and sharing their love and warmth.

His One understood. They were the same.

He wouldn’t be alone.

Chapter Text

“Fuck you! Pay for my dry cleaning like a man!”

He quickly turned to look back over his shoulder. A burly biker clad in leather everything chased him down the slick sidewalk.

“I’m not a man, I’m just gay! Seriously!” It didn’t seem to make the biker any happier as they ran after Arlow.

Goddamnit, what have I done now?

Arlow’s black boots slid across the wet pavement as his chest pinged from within the confines of an increasingly wet binder. The downpour was unusual to say the least. It was supposed to be a clear, sunny June day. Instead the cold air and cold water were seeping deep into Arlow’s clothes.

As to why Arlow was running, let’s just say coordination goes out the window in a crowded gay bar that you never wanted to go to in the first place.

I need new friends. Really I do.

Sprinting around a group of elderly women he peered over his shoulder and slowed at the lack of thunderous footsteps.

Transitioning to a walk, he stared down at his now muddy black boots and soaked green plaid trousers.

“Well, what now?” He could loop around and go back, or he could wander. His mind fought for a moment over the decision, a hand reaching up to twirl the end of his rainbow bandana. He preferred the latter.

The lights looked especially bright in the afternoons, and the added reflections against raindrops added a layer of mistyness that was, for a lack of a better word, mystical to look at.

The whole street looked like Christmas had come early, neon signs announcing openings and sales.

Arlow sighed and glanced at his left palm, his soul tattoo in crisp colors standing out against his pale skin and grey dress shirt.

It was odd, to say the least. Some sort of ghostly apparition holding a very realistic beating heart in one hand, appendage, thingie. The other held a question mark, both hands serving as a balance scale.

Great, so they’re dead and they’re questioning where their heart is?

He snorted and continued down the road, shivering slightly.

Soulmates weren’t all that interesting for Arlow. I mean, sure, companionship is pretty cool. And he had met multiple romantically attractive people, but he didn’t think anyone was “weird” enough for him.

Mythology, folklore, strange creatures and legends. Those were a few of his favorite things. And no, he did not like singing on hills.

Not many people liked talking about the Puka or Banshee or Mananangal on dates, and they certainly didn’t like the graphic depictions of what creatures actually did to people.

Arlow sighed. Not only that, but being ace and non-binary and autistic? No dice.

Oh well. At least I have my stories.

“There you are!”

Oh shit.

Turning another corner, Arlow sucked in his gut and slipped into an alley and woven through the discarded cardboard boxes and square slats of two by fours- what were the name of those again ?- and jumped over the heads of a few construction workers knee deep in cement and mud.

Arlow cringed as he tripped and staggered. He looked this way and that, finally seeing a pride flag sticker in the window of a strange shop.

Barely a hole in the wall, he booked it all the way to the other end of the street, slipping in just as the meathead bounded over the white plastic helmet clad heads and plonked onto the floor, their ankle twisting in a small puddle.

Arlow hissed and clicked his tongue from his view smushed against the glass.

He laughed. “Nice one, Arlow.”

“Um, excuse me? Do you require assistance? You seem to be running from someone.” Arlow whipped around to face a man wearing glasses perched on the end of a snub nose and a pipe dangling from his teeth. He wore a button down sweater vest with a dress shirt, both sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and he sported an impressive widows peak hairline.

Oh shit, he’s cool. And handsome. Oh gosh.

Arlow’s heart clenched slightly. He was always a sucker for smart looking guys, and this one takes the cake. He even sounded smart!

“Hello? Are you okay?” Arlow snapped back into reality, and immediately felt his face heating up. His hands immediately started fiddling with the end of his bandana.

The man had gotten about a foot away, obviously looking him over for injuries with tilted eyebrows and an almost puppy dog look on his face.

Arlow winced and put a hand to his side as he felt a split from the vigorous running he had just done.

“Fine! All fine. I mean, my ribs hurt, but that’s because I was just running from that biker or whoever in the street, I spilled my drink, and because of my binder but that’s fine it doesn’t hurt too bad-“ Arlow bit his tongue once his flapping gums caught up with his brain. He scrubbed the multicolored fabric harder between his fingertips, the course feeling comforting.

Stupid, stupid gay. You fool. Gotten yourself flustered around someone just cuz they’ve got a cool pipe and a sweater vest, I mean really!

The man stopped. “Oh, uh..there’s a unisex bathroom in the back if you wanna-“

“Oh, I’m fine! And I meant it. Not just because I’m rambling ‘cause I’m nervous. It was the chase, not because of anything else.” Arlow chuckled. He pulled down the left sleeve of his shirt to hide his soulmark and looked up at the bespectacled man. He internally squealed at the cute look of concern on his roundish face.

“Arlow. Saw the sticker in the window and figured I had found a sanctuary from the beast. Right, wait uhh...names first? What’s your name?” He stick out his right hand awkwardly.

“Ray. Ray Stantz.” His clearly bigger hand engulfed the soaked visitors.  He offered a big smile as way for apology for tracking rain all over the inside of the doorway.

“Sorry, I’m kind of dripping, and it’s kind of pouring, and-woah!” Once Arlow actually looked at the interior of the shop, he stopped dead in his tracks.

Books! So many books!

Old and new, Big and small. All the shelves were filled to the brim with books of every shape, size, color, maybe even language.

It made Arlow’s heart race from excitement and his hands interlace with the bandana.

“This is Ray’s Occult Books, you know. Occult is right in the name.” Ray teased.

Arlow scoffed and gave him a look.

The Bookshop owner stood to the side as his visitor walked across the floor, staring openly at the glass jars displayed proudly on the main desk/checkout area. Ray was visibly taken back.

“Wait, you’re not creeped out by the jars?” He obviously thought Arlow had thought this was a bookshop and not a freaking awesome spectacular shop!

“What? No! The shock is from not knowing I had barged into a bookstore, and partially because I didn’t realize it was occult.” Arlow hesitated. “Not in a negative way! This is...heaven!” He picked up a red and worn old book and sighed at the feeling under this fingertips. “These books, they’re perfect! Old, textured, and the smell!” He took an inhale and sighed.

The man, Ray, laughed “Oh yeah, that’s the first thing I do when I pick up a book. You can usually tell the age by how much it smells like vanilla.” The shorter man, Arlow, seemed awestruck by the buckling shelves stacked high with tomes and volumes.

“And look at the jars! Bones, feathers, all kinds of cool stuff!” Arlow slowly and gingerly put the book back in its slot, murmuring about not wanting to hurt it.

Ray was honestly shocked. He didn’t expect any old random person to actually like the oddity that was his bookstore. Mostly it was members of pagan religion and others that had prior knowledge.

Arlow’s enthusiasm was infections, and soon Ray was getting excited at the jars along with him.

“Vertebrae, jar o’ snake, are these eyes? They look like goat eyes. The rectangular pupil is very interesting. Because of their status as prey, Sheep, Octopi, and toads all have rectangular pupils to better see any potential predators. It’s really cool.”

He nodded. “Yep, I knew that.” Arlow grinned sheepishly as Ray waved it off, knowing an infodump when he heard one.

And if every infodump from them is that cute, I wouldn’t mind at all.

“They are specifically the eyes of a black goat.” The little hopping of excitement that resulted from his response made some excitement of his own bubble up inside. He lifted the jar and held it to the light, walking back around behind his desk and listing off the multiple references and uses in occult studies.

Arlow seemed enraptured by his speech, staring up at him with starry eyes and his chin resting on his palms. The smell of his pipe smoke combined with his cologne to produce a pleasant and comforting aroma that warmed Arlow’s chest and almost made him forget about the cold. 

Almost.

Arlow shivered. He was still soaked, a few drops of water dripping from dangling strands of hair onto his pants, but he didn’t care. Ray sounded too interesting for him to care. Unfortunately, the shivering had gotten Ray’s attention.

As soon as Ray saw the look on Arlow’s face, his heart stopped. His face turned beet red and he suddenly felt extremely nervous about the offer he was about to make.

”Jeez, you must be freezing. Uh...here!” He darted over time where his leather jacket hung and draped it over Arlow. He gave a nervous smile before concentrating on relighting his pipe.

Arlow pulled the coat tighter around himself, hoping to hide his not so calm face from sight.

“You’re so smart, you must be a scientist or something.”

Ray cleared his throat and put the jar back into place. “Well, uh. Actually, I am. PhD in parapsychology.”

Arlow gasped. “Ghosts?! Like, supernatural, paranormal type stuff?”

Ray laughed at his enthusiasm. “Yes, precisely. I even used to catch ghosts as a Ghostbuster.” Is he on a sugar high, or is he just genuinely super enthusiastic?

Arlow repeated it back to him and giggled. “Ghostbuster? That sounds so silly!” His face immediately got worried and his hands flailed at his sides in a contained sort of way, as if he feared knocking into something. “I didn’t mean that it doesn’t sound cool, it does! I just, the word busting. I don’t know, it just sounds funny to me.”

Ray shook his head. “No offense taken, and it was kinda ridiculous when I first thought of it. After a while it kinda grew on us.”

“Us? There are others? Wow, I’m so glad I got chased by a biker.” Another round of laughter ensued. 

Ray really liked his laugh. He kept focusing on it, the way Arlow’s whole face lit up and he didn’t try to contain it. How sometimes it came out sounding like wheezing from intense mirth and sometimes it sounded mischievous. He found it cute, in an odd sort of way. And the way Arlow was engulfed by the jacket didn’t make him seem any less so.

Arlow, however, was dying. Ray was handsome, smart, kind, sweet, accepting, and his laugh. It was pure joy and pure excitement. He could tell this bookshop and all its contents meant a lot to him.

Arlow wracked his brain. He had to keep talking to this amazing man. He remembered something he had come across in his creature research. It wasn’t much, but hopefully it would extend this meeting for just a little while longer.

Arlow took a shot and cleared his throat. “Speaking of ghosts, there’s this book I’ve heard of. Tobin’s guide? Or Spates guide? Maybe they’re two different issues?”

Ray made a sound of understanding. “Tobin’s Spirit guide and Spates Catalogue. Two different books on occult and supernatural forces. You were close.” He winked at Arlow and made his way behind his currently flustered customer to rifle through the books at the far wall.

“Y-yeah, whoops.” Arlow was freaking out. He winked! Winked! That was like twenty steps ahead of what he expected in a possible friendship/dating/flirting thingie, or whatever it was that was happening.

He took a deep breath and turned around just in time to see Ray grab both books in one hand. Working past a minor short circuit from that fact, he hurried over and fidgeted as Ray held them out.

“There you go! They’re interesting reads, packed full of really good information. Although the technical stuff does get a little complex, so if you need any help...” His sentence carried an insinuation of future meetings. Something that caused a bubbling in Arlow’s chest. He looked up - for Arlow was, as we like to say, short as fuck - at Ray with wide eyes and clutched the books to his chest.

“Of course! Totally, yeah. And maybe...” he took a breath and stared down at his fidgeting boots. “Maybe when I don’t need help too?“ He heard a shocked noise and Ray clearing his throat. “I mean! If that’s okay, I don’t want to impose or anything you’re just really cool.” He mumbled under his breath. “And handsome.” He hoped the bookstore owner hadn’t heard.

Ray did in fact hear, and was trying to not blush all over again.

“ Of course! Of course you can. Although...” he darted back behind the desk and snagged something with an ‘ah-ha!’ before bounding back to Arlow.

“My card. For the shop. Personal phone, business, address Incase you get lost.”

Arlow flicked his fingernail at the edge of the small card stock and grinned at Ray, who beamed in return.

Even if they didn’t turn out to be a couple, Arlow figured Ray would be a pretty cool friend.

~~~~~~~~~

A few hours after Arlow returned the coat and left, Ray locked the door and made his way to the old firehouse. He sighed and rubbed at the winding tattoo around his bicep. The string of black words wrapped around completely with words and phrases that were completely unrelated. Mostly random. However, a circular light grey symbol right in the middle of the spiral, like a locket, seemed to shed the most light on who his soulmate - or mates - actually were. Inside the small circle was a tornado, and inside of that was a brain.

Ray sighed again and crossed his fingers. Maybe this whirlwind of a person will be my significant other? Although that is just wishful thinking. The likelihood of me finding a partner in my kind of business is slim to none. Besides, Arlow isn’t interested in that way.

Ray paused. Although, he did say I was handsome.

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Regarding requests, You can leave them on the most recent chapter of the story at the time, or you can send them to my tumblr and explicitly state that it’s for the ao3 soulmate au story. For requesting, I will need:

-Character or characters

-scenario

- Relationship type

-which au you would like, made by you or not. In that case I need an explanation of how it works.

-sexualities

- version of reading, as in is it a character x another character in story, an x reader, or an x oc. You can also request Arlow(My oc) x character if you’d like! 

- if it’s an x reader or an x character and you have a headcanon of a disability they may possess, I will need a brief explanation of what it is and how it affects them in day to day life

I hope this clears it up! My Tumblr for requesting or anything else is

http://misfit-mania-the-real-deal.tumblr.com/

so feel free! I also have an oc named Chester on there so if you want me to write him too, just request it!

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Hey! So, these past few years have been wild.

I graduated highschool and started college, the pandemic started, I figured out I’m actually demisexual(oops😅 that’s probably why I wrote the Ray Stantz fic like that), I got a bf(we recently celebrated our one year anniversary AND my 21st bday), my dad got covid twice, I started therapy(originally for horrible nightmares), I’m pretty sure my dad is emotionally abusive, I got a job, I quit my job, and my dog almost passed from kidney failure just this past week( yes, my bday week).

I’m not 100% sure if I will continue updating this fic specifically but I really love my ghostbusters soulmates au fic so I’m considering rewriting the one shot as the first chapter!

Oh! I’m also trying to write an actual book! I’ll keep you posted on that as well.

Thank you!