#fairyauevent

It wasn’t any old statue. That was for sure… For several reasons. 

One: It was of a soldier. That wasn’t the odd part, however. The odd part was that they were in the middle of a forest with no ruins or town in sight. Therefore, there was no way to have a statue here unless it was on purpose. 

Two: The soldier looked utterly terrified. Like, almost too scared for it to be a statue. Almost as if…

Wait…

“COVER YOUR EYES!” Soshiro bellowed, but almost immediately, the nearest soldiers to him turned to stone. That was the last thing he saw before he shut his eyes. 

He had heard stories. 

He should’ve known!

How could he have been so stupid?! Leading his soldiers into gorgon territory?! That was just a recipe for death and defeat. He should’ve seen the signs!

Soshiro didn’t draw his sword just yet, more fearful of hurting his fellow soldiers. But it seemed his fellow soldiers didn’t have that same sentiment. He heard them draw their swords and ready their spears. But it seemed they hadn’t closed their eyes as their battle cries went silent one by one. 

Leaving him alone. 

“It seems you were smarter than your cohorts. No wonder you led them.” You purred next to his ear. He felt scaly hands tap tap tap on his bronze chest plate and drift over his shoulders, your long nails leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. He felt little flicks of the tongues of your snakish hair at his ears, his eyelids, his nose, and his mouth. You brushed a lock of hair behind his ear, and he shuddered. 

“You don’t want to look at me? How rude, you know.” You whisper, and he slowly moves his hand toward his scabbard. 

Just a bit closer…

You notice instantly, and he feels his sword being drawn from its sheath and listens to the sound of it being tossed away. You tutted, making a disapproving noise as you quickly grabbed his hands behind his back and tied them with some rough rope. 

Effectively trapping him. 

Soshiro was taken somewhere dark. The sun no longer pierced his eyelids, but he still shut his eyes for fear of meeting a stony demise. Instead, it was cool and dark and damp. A cave, perhaps?

You stopped behind him, hands on his shoulders pulling him to a stop.

“You can open your eyes, you know. I won’t kill you just yet.” You say in his ear. Soshiro flinched. It was impossible to hear anything else when you were so close, and the rustling of your hair obscured any other noises. 

But your words registered to him, and he scoffed, 

“I’d rather not. I value my life, thanks.” He said and could practically hear your pout. 

“I said I wouldn’t kill you!” You whine. Whine! How old were you, five? 

“But you also kidnapped me. How do I know to trust anything you say?” He retorted, and you seemingly paused. 

You were behind him; surely he’d be at least somewhat safe… Right? 

So he opened his eyes. 

And found himself in a massive cavern. With high arching ceilings and a river trailing by his feet, it was breathtaking. 

At least until he realized it was filled with more statues. 

Men, women, elders, soldiers. Hell, he even swore he saw a horse!

Was this your home?

“Ah! You opened your eyes!” You chirp, and immediately, he clamps his eyes shut again. Almost instantaneously, you let out a disappointed noise, and he felt you slump against his back. You were acting almost like a child. Not at all like the sultry, powerful monster he had encountered at first. 

Was it all a front? 

He didn’t have time to think about that as you made your way to face him. He feels your hands touch his face, scales on smooth skin, and you squish his cheeks together. 

What were you doing? 

“I wish I could see your undoubtedly pretty eyes.” You grumble, but he doesn’t budge. “Why am I here?” He asked, and he could practically envision you tapping your chin as you pondered his words. 

“I suppose I’m lonely.” You finally say, and he almost opens his eyes out of sheer shock. 

“You—You kidnapped me because you’re lonely?” He sputtered, and you hummed.

“I suppose when you put it that way…” You trail off, and Soshiro stumbled away, nearly tripping on… something. He wasn’t sure what. It felt like a broken bit of statue, but he couldn’t be sure. 

He was usually better coordinated than this. 

“What are you going to do with me?” He asked as you gripped his arm to steady him. You make a humming noise as you think it over. 

“I suppose I’ll keep you for now.” You say in a sing-song voice, and Soshiro feels a sense of dread.

Would he survive being here? Basically blind? Would you get fed up with his presence and kill him? 

“I’m sorry, what?!” Your snap is heard through the doors and down the halls. You hear your father’s underlings scatter when your famous temper raises its head.

Your father, ever the stoic man, is unperturbed and merely steeples his fingers before him. His elbows rest on his expensive desk, and there’s a rocks glass with some whiskey and ice beside his calloused hands.

“I’m employing someone to look after you.” He says simply, and you notice the other man in the room.

Tall, at least six feet, if not more, with piercing green eyes and curly blond hair. He’s dressed in a pressed black suit with a dual-sided spear in its holster across his back.

You knew this weapon. Durandal. Wielded by only one man.

Roland Fortis.

But that didn’t matter.

“Why?! I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself!” You all but shriek and slam your hands down on the desk. It ruffles a few papers, but as always, your father doesn’t have a hair out of place. “That may be. But your brother has angered some rather… dangerous people. It’s best to have someone to watch after you until this all blows over.” He said, and you roll your eyes.

Of course, your idiot brother would do something stupid.

“So I’m to be babysat by someone random for who knows how long?” You snap, and your father’s eyebrow arches lightly. “My dearest daughter, you are the heir to this family and the family business. Do you really think I’d employ “someone random” to protect you?” He says sternly and gestures to Roland Fortis, who still has yet to say a word. “This is Roland Fortis. He’ll be guarding you for the time being.” He says, and it’s then that Roland steps forward and extends a hand. You glare at him, but when your father gives you a sharp look, you shake his hand reluctantly.

His hands are calloused and rough from years of handling weapons and a past stained in blood and carnage.

“I look forward to working with you.” He says, much kinder than you expected. You nod glumly, “Likewise.” You mumbled, obviously not really meaning it.

And you could tell that he could tell.

You find out very quickly that Roland isn’t like the other bodyguards you’ve had in the past. He was oddly chatty, oddly kind, and just… odd all around.

He'd ask you about your day, even though he was with you almost twenty-four-seven. He seemed genuinely interested in what you did in your day-to-day life.

Was this just a ruse? Was he secretly someone trying to get close to your father?

No… That couldn't be it. He seemed so… Genuine? One of the only genuine people you had met in the criminal underworld.

What an odd man…

The sound of a window sliding open roused you from your slumber. Well… Slumber wasn't the right word. You were more dozing than anything. But nonetheless, the sound of your bedroom window opening had you on high alert.

You turn over, feigning sleep, and the sound stops. Once you still, the noise resumes. And then, just on the edge of your hearing, you hear the slightest creaking of a floorboard.

Someone was inside.

Roland was stationed outside your door. How could you get his attention? Screaming maybe? Or…

Your hand reached under your pillow and curled around the 9 millimeter handgun you kept there. You carefully kept your finger off the trigger, but pulled the loaded weapon under your blanket and switched off the safety.

All the while, more and more people stepped into your room. You heard at least four or five creaks of the floorboards.

Four or five enemies…

Could you take them?

Should you try and alert Roland somehow?

Cracking open an eyelid just the barest bit, you spotted the enemies. And there were a lot more than four or five.

"Hurry! Just kill her and get it over with! Before Fortis knows we're here!" Someone hissed, and you heard a muffled curse and the drawing of a sword.

It was then that you sprang into action.

There was an explosion of noise and blankets as you jolted up and squeezed the trigger. The gunshot was deafening, but it did the trick. People scattered, the door slammed open, and there was the whisper of steel as Roland drew his weapon and joined the fray.

You realized you had never seen him fight before. He was all sunshine and smiles, gentle hands on your back as you walked, and jubilant laughter as you said something snarky.

But now?

It was… Scary…

He moved with the grace of a panther, dressed in his customary black suit, wielding Durandal as if it weighed little more than a feather. He sliced down men as if they were nothing. Because to him, they were nothing.

And watching him fight was… Beautiful.

The cleanup crew cleaned with clinical precision. Bodies were rolled up in layers of plastic wrap, tarp, and duct tape to make them easier to transport. Your floorboards were scrubbed within an inch of their life, and you were quickly taken out of the room to be assessed for injuries.

Of course, there were none. Other than some ringing from the initial gunshot, and a scratch on your cheek, you were fine.

"Your father will want to speak with you." The doctor checking you over said as he packed up his medical supplies that he didn't need and left. You just nodded numbly.

And then you were alone with Roland.

He was stationed by the door, and for once, he was silent. No chatter, not even a peep out of him. And it only took a few moments for you to get tired of it.

"Don't blame yourself." You snap at the taller, blond man, and he looks up, spooked at the prospect of being spoken to.

"Pardon?" He says, and you roll your eyes,

"Don't blame yourself. It's obvious you are. For letting people get in and attack me, just… Don't blame yourself. It wasn't your fault." You say, quickly losing steam when he looks at you with wide eyes.

Roland approaches you after a few seconds, reaching forward to brush his thumb against your cheek as he cups it and sighs. It was a tender touch, one you were not used to after years of working for your father.

It almost made you cry.

"But it is my fault. I was hired to protect you, yet you almost died. How could I live with myself if that happened?" He says quietly, and you huff,

"But nothing happened. You got to me in time, and I'm not exactly helpless, Roland."

It had been an accident, really. In fact, you hadn’t planned on leaving your little home at all that day, but there had been a bad feeling deep in your belly, so you relented and went for a walk.

Only to find a fallen angel by the tree just down the road.

Your foot nearly slips in something golden and sticky, and you look down as the scent of burning flesh fills your nostrils. As you look around, you realize there’s something more than sticky golden ichor and burning flesh.

There’s feathers.

And not just any feathers.

Angel feathers.

And on top of that, there’s a body collapsed just under a burning tree that certainly wasn’t burning the day before.

You stopped dead in your tracks and stared for a moment. Then two. Then three. Then everything hit you all at once, and you’re sprinting forward to kneel at the body’s side.

He’s handsome in a sort of rugged way. His black hair was disheveled from what you assumed was the Fall. Golden ichor covers his body, and as you peek at his back, you realize he has no wings. Not anymore, at least. All that’s left is two little burned stumps where you thought magnificent wings must’ve been before.

What had happened?

Oh, who were you kidding? You knew what happened. Perhaps not the details, but you knew what would happen if an angel were to cross their God.

Hence, the name The Fall.

But you also knew what would happen if any other demon found the fallen angel. So you made a decision.

“If you were any heavier, I would drop you right here and now!” You snarl at the unconscious angel man you are currently heaving backward toward your little house.

He was certainly heavier than he looked.

You kicked your front door open, hitting the wall as you huffed and heaved your way inside. Luckily for you, the fallen angel’s robes had been mostly burned in the Fall, so they didn’t catch on the uneven floorboards.

You gave one last grunt and managed to wrangle the man onto your only bed. Your home was little more than one big room with a cot in the corner. Your lungs heave in agitation as you wheeze, hands on your hips as you lean back. Your clothes are soaked in golden blood, and more soaks into your blankets as the fallen angel continues to bleed out.

What were you supposed to do? Hell wasn’t the most… sanitary of places. But you supposed wrapping the injuries so the fallen angel didn’t die on you was the best route to go.

So that’s what you did. Sort of.

You wrapped his injuries with the cleanest rags you could find, even going so far as to tear some of your less-worn clothing into strips and wrapping them around his back to stop the golden bleeding from the stumps of his wings.

All the while, he didn't move.

In fact, if not for the labored breathing, you could've sworn he was dead.

The angel didn't move for four whole days.

On the fifth day, however, just when you were about to go change his bandages, he came to in a flurry of golden ichor and cloth as his scabs broke open and began to bleed again.

You shrieked and dropped the ladle that held the boiling bandages in the biggest pot you owned. The angel looked around wildly with a rather frightening snarl on his face until his eyes locked on you.

Your knees began to tremble, and you held up the ladle rather pathetically.

"I—I mean you no harm?" You whimpered as he stepped closer and closer, each heavy footstep shaking the little hut you called your home.

"Who are you?" He demanded, and you swallowed thickly. One wrong move and he'd tear you apart. You just knew it. So you gave him your name, and he seemed to relax the barest bit. But not by much. "Where am I?" He then snarled, and you frowned.

"Isn't it obvious, Mr. Fallen Angel? You're in Hell."

The angel didn't say much after realizing he was indeed in Hell. In fact, he didn't say anything at all. So for three more days, it was just silent.

Not that you minded. He lets you check his bandages, changing them every so often, and simply watches the fire and brimstone crackle with malevolence just outside your home.

You are content to let him wallow in his pity until you begin to feel bad. Like… really bad.

So eventually, you go and sit beside him on the porch. He looks at you out of the corner of his eye, clearly wary and not trusting of you.

"Y'know…" You began, and he arched an eyebrow, "I never got your name." His arched eyebrow heightens further.

And then… He opens his mouth, and pure magnificence comes out. It sounds like a choir of angels, if you had ever known what that sounded like, and like cradling the universe in time-cracked palms. It sounds like bathing in slow-roasted sunshine, like when you were human and enjoying life to the fullest.

You don't realize you're crying until he shuts his mouth and says,

Your soulmate must either be an assassin or highly accident-prone. Or maybe both. Or maybe—

“Well, we don't have all day! Come on! Clock in!” Fuyumi exclaimed, and you just huffed but did as told and clocked in for your shift.

You spotted him approximately three hours into what should’ve been a regular shift. It wasn’t too busy, what with finals week at the local university just having finished the week prior. He looked to be around your age, maybe a student at the college?

Either way, you couldn’t deny he was attractive. With black hair and dark eyes, he was sitting with his back to the wall and sitting next to an older gentleman in a coat and a hat.

You watched him in between making drinks and cleaning tables. He seemed to be people-watching and listening to the older man talk. They spoke in hushed tones, almost like people sharing information that should be best kept secret.

There was a poke to your neck, right where your bruise was. You flinched and swallowed a reprimand as you turned to see Fuyumi looking shocked. “What?” You ask, and she shushes you quickly, pulling you into the back where she can peek around into the lobby without being seen.

Without looking, she reaches over and jabs you in the neck again, where the bruise is throbbing from her previous poke. “Ow!” You yelp, and she all but smothers you with a hand. “Sh! I’m testing something!” She whispers and pokes you again.

At this point, you’re swatting her away. “Stop poking me! It hurts!” You complain, and she just rolls her eyes, “Stop being a baby. I think I just found your soulmate!” She whispered.

That gets you to stop.

In fact, you almost trip from where you were about to head out into the fray of customers again. “What do you mean? Just from poking my bruise?” You ask, stupefied, and Fuyumi rolls her eyes again. “Man, you are dense. He’s out there! The guy you were making heart eyes at when he was talking to someone else! He has the exact bruise on the side of his neck, and he flinches every time I poke yours!” She exclaims, and then you peek out into the lobby.

The young man is still there, looking around and rubbing the bruise on his neck that you hadn’t noticed before. Now that you’re seeing it, it does look like yours… It’s mottled pinks and purples and partially hidden by his button-down shirt. But it looks an awful lot like yours…

It’s then that he looks up, and your eyes meet.

It’s like fireworks explode, and there’s an instant connection. While it feels like it lasts for hours, it lasts for a little more than a second because Fuyumi jabs your side and breaks your trance. “Quit it!” You hiss, and she pulls you back before you fall out into his line of sight again.

The young man becomes a regular after that.

You don't know if he knows. About the whole soulmate thing. But he doesn't seem like a total idiot, so you just assume he does, in fact, know you are his soulmate.

At least, you hope you are.

Because this would be really embarrassing if you were wrong.

Fuyumi immediately ships the two of you together despite the fact that the most interaction you've had is taking his coffee order every day. You both learn his name is Li Shengshun. He's a university student and odd job connoisseur. He gets the same thing every time. That in and of itself isn't odd, it's just… His order is a bit strange if you had to say so yourself.

He gets a large black coffee. And then proceeds to add an obscene amount of cream and sugar to make it so sweet you aren't sure his teeth haven't rotted out of his head and he has dentures instead.

But that doesn't stop the bruises from forming.

A large bruise that was suspiciously shaped, similar to that of a size ten boot. That one feels like your ribs are broken, and you call out for two days after the fact.

At one point, it feels like you've been hit with a bat upside the head and lost a tooth. A quick look in the mirror exposes that as a lie.

Just what did your soulmate do for a living? Did he fight in illegal fighting rings? Was he relentlessly bullied?

You just hoped he was okay.

Li was late.

You checked the clock as it ticked right past eight-thirty. That was odd… He was always here right on the dot, right at eight-thirty, as if it was the most important part of his day!

Fuyumi came up front with a fresh tray of pastries and paused.

"Is Li not here yet?" She asked, and you shook your head. You could count on one hand in the last six months when he was late. And each time, a new injury showed up within a few hours.

So that didn't help your racing mind at all.

"I think something is wrong." You mumble and she frowns, checks the back, and makes a shooing motion.

"Go on then." She hissed, and you froze.

"What?" Her shooing motion became more exaggerated.

"No one is here. I can handle this myself. Go find your lover boy. You seriously owe me, though." She said, physically pushing you at this point and out the front door before you can say another word.

You find him collapsed in an alleyway.

You had been wandering aimlessly at this point, checking the occasional alley when you found him.

"Li?!" Your shriek has people turning heads, but they ultimately pay you no mind as you sprint down the alley toward the familiar shape of your maybe-soulmate. He's sitting with a hand pressed to his side, where the suspiciously shaped boot bruise is.

And he's bleeding.

Which isn't good.

You are stripping off your work-issued apron and pressing it against the wound. He's dressed in an all black coat with a high collar, and you spy a white mask at his side next to a long dual-bladed knife.

"Hey." He grunts and hisses in pain as you press the apron harder against the injury. Your own agony flares, and you nearly black out at the sensation.

Your mother had always said you were a wimp when it came to pain.

"What happened?!" You demand, and he shakes his head,

"Can't say, not safe." He wheezes, and you are no doctor, but he looks paler than normal, and his movements are getting sluggish.

Is he dying? Is this what dying looked like?

You were not prepared for this.

"I need to get you to a hospital." You say, and once again, he shakes his head.

"They're watching." That's all he manages before passing out.

It takes a long time, but eventually you make it back to your apartment that you shared with Fuyumi. Li was semi-conscious and could barely walk, but barely walking was still walking, so you did your best to support his weight as the two of you stumbled through the streets of Tokyo.

Fuyumi was still at work, but she had been blowing up your phone the entire time. You still had yet to respond.

You barely managed to set Li down somewhat gently on the couch, kick the door shut, and took a minute to just… breathe.

Something he was doing very shallowly and weakly.

But hey, at least he was breathing.

"Right… First aid…" You mumble and go to stand when his hand darts out and grabs your own. His eyes are screwed shut, but his grip is surprisingly strong. Gently, you work your hand out of his grip, "I'm going to get first aid supplies, I'll be back." You say and your heart races when he mumbles your name.

Rummaging through your bathroom cabinet takes longer than you hoped. Half of the supplies have expired, but hopefully, there was something you could use to save the man currently bleeding out on your couch.

He's sitting up when you come back in with an amalgamation of medical supplies in your arms. Ace bandages, gauze, some painkillers, and ointment that you are pretty sure won't help.

The apron you had bunched and tied around his wound is discarded on the coffee table, and he's in the middle of shedding his coat when you drop the supplies next to him.

"How can I help?" You ask, and he looks at you warily. That was something you had never seen in your time knowing him. He was timid and kind and gentle, not… Like this…

He doesn't say anything, so you try again,

"You're safe for now. No one will find you here. So let me help." You say, and he sighs, but gestures for the gauze pads.

Patching Li up takes less time than you initially imagined it would. He's an excellent teacher, walking you through how to stitch up what turns out to be a knife wound in his side on top of the bruise that's already there. You almost pass out four separate times, but Li keeps you grounded and focused.

"Thank you." He says after downing some painkillers and goes to stand. He was leaving? No way!

And he promptly falls over back onto the couch when you gently push.

"You aren't going anywhere until those kick in." You say sternly, and he scowls.

"It's not safe for me here. Or for you." He says, and you cross your arms,

"Why not?"

"Dangerous people are looking for me."

"Dangerous how?"

"They are the ones who injured me. They'll kill you."

"Then you should hide out here for a few hours."

"No."

Frustration gets the better of you at this point, and you throw your arms in the air.

"You're impossible, Li." You grumble and he winces.

"That isn't my name."

That gets you to stop dead in your tracks. And you stare at him. And stare. And stare. He winces again and manages to stand.

"What else have you not been telling me? We're soulmates, aren't we?" Your voice thunders into the quiet, even though it's little more than a whisper.

"I don't know if I can tell you everything yet… I live a dangerous life. And soulmate or not, you'll be in danger around me."

"But can I at least know your name? Your real one, I mean." You say quietly, and he looks at you, surprised for a moment. Then, a small smile crosses his handsome face, and he says,

The Rules Are: 

All requests are written as character x reader!

Everything is gender neutral reader unless specifically stated otherwise (e.g., you request a female reader) [I don’t write male readers yet]

TWO REQUESTS PER PERSON

Please send them in separately so I can keep track of everything!

Any orders that do not follow the rules will be deleted. 

All requests will be tagged under #fairyauevent

AUs to Choose From:

College AU

Myth AU (e.g., An Odyssey-themed oneshot)

Spy AU

Royal AU

Mythological Creature AU (e.g., Siren!Reader)

Fantasy AU

Soulmate AU (Specify which one, pls! There are too many for me to list)

Modern AU

Angels and Demons AU

Pirate AU

Bodyguard AU

Victorian Era AU

Arranged Marriage AU

Rock Band AU

Werewolf/Vampire AU

I Will Write for the Following People: 

Arcane: League of Legends: Viktor, Silco, Jayce Talis, Vander

Bungou Stray Dogs: Nakajima Atsushi, Nakahara Chuuya, Dazai Osamu, Kunikida Doppo, Fukuzawa Yukichi, Saigiku Jouno, Suehiro Tecchou

The Case Study of Vanitas: Vanitas, Noé Archiviste, Roland Fortis

Darker than Black: Hei, November 11

Demon Slayer: All the Hashira, Akaza, Kokushibo, Douma, Kamado Tanjiro (aged up), Agatsuma Zenitsu (aged up), Hashibira Inosuke (aged up)

Doctor Who: The Doctor (9th, 10th, 11th, 12th), Jack Harkness

Fullmetal Alchemist: Roy Mustang, Greed (not Greedling), Alex Louis Armstrong, Edward Elric (post-FMAB), Alphonse Elric (post-FMAB), Ling Yao (post-FMAB)

Grimm (NBC): Nick Burkhardt, Hank Griffin, Sean Renard, Drew Wu, Monroe

Jujutsu Kaisen: Gojo Satoru, Fushiguro Toji, Geto Suguru, Nanami Kento, Itadori Yuuji (aged up), Fushiguro Megumi (aged up)

Kaiju No. 8: Hibino Kafka, Ichikawa Reno, Hoshina Soshiro, Narumi Gen, Furuhashi Iharu

Moriarty the Patriot: William James Moriarty, Albert James Moriarty, Louis James Moriarty, Sherlock Holmes, Mycroft Holmes, Fred Porlock, Sebastian Moran, James Bonde

Tokyo Ghoul: Uta, Kaneki Ken, Kirishima Touka, Kirishima Ayato (re: age), Nishio Nishiki, Tsukiyama Shuu