#alternate universe - soulmates

[hongjoongspoetry]

A Second to Forever | Park Seonghwa

🍄 Summary: The countdown on your wrist was getting closer to its end and the jitters of finally meeting your soulmate were rendering you an anxious mess. It was a moment you had waited for your entire life — the chance to put a face and name to the person you were destined to meet — and it made you think of different ways to escape fate. After a series of comedic events where everything that could go wrong, did, you met your soulmate. In that instant, everything changed. The encounter was filled with sparks of attraction, warmth and genuine connection, leading to a tender first interaction that left you both feeling enchanted.

🍄 Pairing(s): Fairy!Seonghwa x Fairy!Reader, brief Fairy!Yeosang x Werewolf!Jongho

🍄 Genres/Tropes: Soulmate AU, non-idol AU, fantasy AU, fluff, humour

🍄 Warnings/Tags: female reader, no use of (Y/N), use of magic, water manipulation, flower manipulation, Wooyoung is a mood, petnames (bubbles, little one, jjong, love, darling), smooth talker!Hwa, flustered!MC, Seonghwa has some insecurities, brief mention of kidnapping and murder (literally just mentioned once in conversation), kissing and cuteness overload

🍄 Wordcount: 7.1K

🍄 Author's Note: Click the image for a better resolution (Tumblr I hate you). Happy Friday everyone!!! I don't have a lot to say, except for enjoy hehehe. It was quite fun to write this one. I've never really done a fantasy/fairy au before so it was certainly a fun challenge! The fairies are sometimes referred to as little one / little fairy, not because of their physical appearance but because fairies are described as 'tiny' in tales even though they are human sized here!

This is all fiction and not meant to represent the idols involved in any way or form. This work is rated SFW, however it contains mature scenes, not sexual content but moments of intimacy. Minors, please, read at your own risk and refrain from interacting or following my blog!!!

AO3 Masterpost Moodboard Event taglist

The beautiful pink petals of the cherry blossom trees littered the streets of Seoul. The flowers could be found in every corner and in every crevice, covering the ground in a pink blanket, much like the thick layer of snow in the winter season. Peering out of the window of Yeosang’s flower shop, you wonder about the story behind each passerby. A trio of young witches dressed in high school uniforms walked by with their arms looped and joyous laughs tumbling out of their mouths. A tall man triple checked his wristwatch, hair gelled back and one sharp tooth peeking out. The stress was evident on his pale face and your eyes flashed down to the fat blue ring resting atop his middle finger. The bright complexion and fang was a giveaway, yet the piece of jewelry confirmed your thoughts.

The vampire narrowly avoided colliding with another man nearly half of his height that appeared out of nowhere. You glanced down and noticed the lack of feet on the new person. Ghosts weren’t usually seen out in the open during daytime as the sun made them nearly impossible to see. The bright rays pierced through their translucent forms and turned them invisible to those who weren’t aware of their surroundings. It was good you could walk through them, a bit disrespectful, but at least they weren’t involved in a lot of traffic accidents.

As if on cue, a loud crash erupted behind you, and you were quick to turn around. The owner of the shop, the most beautiful garden fairy you had ever laid eyes on, stood with his legs in a wide stance and hands open, as if holding an invisible box. His eyes were trained on the mess of porcelain shards, a dozen red roses and a pool of water decorating the wooden flooring. The pair of see-through wings with a dash of green in them flickered fiercely, a sign of annoyance that he refused to express on his gorgeous face. Your own wings, thin and blue, fluttered as a smile overtook your features. 

“You alright, Sang?”

“Mhm,” he hummed and crouched down to pick up the aftermath of his ditziness. “It’s the fourth vase this month…”

You grabbed the broom and dustpan from the corner while Yeosang separated the roses from the remains that couldn’t be reused. Before you got to sweeping, you placed your hand right above the puddle and wiggled your fingers. The water slowly separated from the floor and hovered in the air, taking on an oblong shape that bent at your will. You guided the water to the drain with a flick of your wrist and the only proof of there ever being an accident were the broken shards. Yeosang shot you a grateful look and you handed him the floor scoop in return as you gently swept the bits into the dustpan.

“You can’t blame yourself for the first two times, remember? It isn’t your fault the customer’s service dog accidentally knocked stuff down with his tail and it definitely isn’t your fault that some parents bring their kids in and have no control of the devil spawns playing tag in a flower shop!”

“You’re right.”

“Of course I am!” 

Yeosang ignored your cheery outburst and threw the collected pieces in the trash can behind the register. Overwhelmed by being in the center of attention, even if it was only him and you there, he reflected the light on you.

“How much time is there left?”

You slid your forearms across the counter with your palms facing the ceiling. The digital timer that was injected into your wrist seconds after you entered the world was currently showing 01:10:20 with the last numbers frequently changing. Seventy minutes. A little more than an hour left until you’d come face to face with your other half. The thought sent a pleasant spark down your spine and along the thin veins of your wings. Many nights were spent staying awake and wondering who they were and the times you managed to succumb to sleep, you were visited by the image of your soulmate, but the face was always hidden behind a blurry shield.

Just a little while longer and you’d be able to trace the outline of their features. Then there was the curiosity whether they were a fairy like you or another creature. It wasn’t unheard of or impossible to be paired with something other than your own kind. You knew fairies whose soulmates were everything from witches to werewolves, however your soulmate was yet to show themselves. 

“That’s soon,” he replied, a dash of excitement lingering in his voice and a joyous glint twinkling in his eyes. 

“Right… I don’t know whether it’s too soon or not soon enough.” You buried your face in the safety of your palms. “Oh, Yeosang, what am I going to do? It feels like my heart is going to burst out of my chest!”

A fresh and slightly musky aroma with a hint of fruity sweetness surrounded you, blossoming a comforting and warm feeling in your chest. The flower shop was filled with a variety of different scents, but this one stood out, as if the plant was right beneath your nose. A barely-there touch grazed the slightly exposed part of your cheek, right beside your ear, and you slowly raised your head only to be met with the lovely sight of a large jasmine bush protruding between the planks. Jasmines were known for their calming effect and you could practically feel the tension melting off your shoulders, back and jaw. 

“Thank you, Sangie.”

“Anytime, bubbles. Now, I can see the cogs turning in your head. Go ahead and ask away.”

“What… How was it when you met Jongho?”

The garden fairy paused for a second and thought over his answer. For someone who had already met his soulmate, it was hard to put the experience into words. How was Yeosang supposed to explain the unfathomable feeling of the air shifting the moment he locked eyes with his soulmate?

“I don’t know how to explain it, but believe me when I say that all of my worries disappeared when I met Jongho. Nothing in the world mattered anymore. I could literally be on the brink of death and I wouldn’t even care because, well, he was there.” A blush the same hue of his heart-shaped birthmark rose to his cheeks and spread to the tips of his ears. 

Yeosang and Jongho met in their first year of university, if you recalled correctly. That would be a mere five years ago. Yeosang was running late for his exam and was in such distress, he forgot about the countdown on his wrist. His thoughts were everywhere and nowhere. It would be a miracle if the fairy even remembered half of the material he revised in time for the evaluation. Yeosang quickly regretted his choice of taking the elevator instead of sprinting up the five flights of stairs. He didn’t even think of using his wings!

There were just a few more minutes until the doors would close, so when the elevator dinged and the doors just started parting, Yeosang slipped through the crack and collided with a sturdy chest. Everything he was holding — keys, pencil case, water bottle, notepad  — fell to the ground along with an apology slipping out of his lips. The words didn’t get very far as Yeosang looked up and found the warmest pair of eyes staring right back at him. Yes, he missed the exam.

You sighed at the dreamy look on his face. “You’re just saying that because you love Jongho’s eyes.”

“Do not!” His glow intensified and took on the shade of the red roses behind him, a stark contrast to his green and black highlights. Yeosang eventually yielded as you raised your brows and tilted your head sideways. “Okay, I do love him, but it’s not because of his eyes!”

Joy stretched your lips into a genuine smile. You were happy for him. It was about time someone other than you brought the fairy out of his shell and Jongho, from the brief encounters you had with the werewolf, was just the man for the job. Your friendship with Yeosang blossomed in elementary school. The class consisted mostly of vampires, witches and werewolves, and hadn’t it been for you and Yeosang, the homeroom would’ve been vacant of fairies. The one thing you had in common — being of the same species — was the magnetic pull that brought you together — the garden fairy who wore his heart on his sleeve and the water fairy who, despite having a smile warm enough to melt blocks of ice, didn’t think twice before standing up for others. In other words, by drenching the pupils for making fun of the sweetest boy in class.

Though one was a garden fairy and the other a water fairy, your differences went beyond your magical abilities. Yeosang was quiet and you were loud. He liked to observe while you wanted to participate. The apples of his cheeks set ablaze at the merest crumb of attention while you didn’t shy away from the spotlight. Your differences didn’t hinder you from being friends, on the contrary actually. The different traits were perhaps the reason why you stayed friends for so long. 

Having an unpredictable mind that changed course like the unruly waters of the sea, you couldn’t help but let your thoughts run down an unstoppable stream. If the universe paired Yeosang with someone that was an anchor — grounding and strong, giving him the opportunity to lean on his soulmate whenever — what would it give you? Would your soulmate be a vampire, cold and quiet, to balance your loud and bubbly personality? Or what if they were a controlling werewolf, an alpha ordering you around, trying to drown out your outgoing persona? But your soulmate wouldn’t hurt you, right?

The silence on your part alerted Yeosang and he was quick to notice your distant gaze. He slowly waved his hand in front of you, the motion eventually getting more frantic the longer your eyes stayed stuck on the same object, until you broke out of the bubble separating you from the rest of the world.

“Are you okay?”

“Just peachy,” you replied without missing a beat and glanced down at your wrist. 

00:50:35

Your eyes widened. The time was suddenly moving so fast. All those years of you wailing and complaining about there being an eternity until you’d meet your soulmate were taunting you now. 

“What if I lock myself in the guest bathroom of the flower shop?”

“It’s impossible to defy the universe.”

“What will they do? Break the bathroom door?”

Yeosang paused for a moment and gave you a skeptic glance. “Maybe you forget to lock the door.”

"Impossible,” you countered and kept your eyes on the countdown. “I always check twice.”

“Maybe the lock breaks because you pull on the handle when checking.”

It was your turn to take a breath. He had a point and you hated it when he was onto something. “Okay, what if I hide in a river in a bubble of water?”

“Congrats, your soulmate is a merman or mermaid.”

“What if I take a trip to Jongho’s pack?”

The sudden call of your name snapped your eyes up to Yeosang’s. “Do you not want to meet your soulmate? Because you’re really acting like it…”

“It’s not that I don’t wanna meet them. I’m just… scared…”

There was no point in feeling embarrassed of your admission. Everyone you asked who had already met their soulmate told you the same story. How they were nervous, scared and excited about finding out who their other half was. You thought they were stupid at first. Who would be scared of meeting their soulmate? Now you felt stupid for secretly invalidating others’ feelings. 

“There’s no reason to be afraid, bubbles. The person you’re destined to meet isn’t just created on a whim. A piece of your soul is taken to put in theirs and vice versa, whoever it is, you’re created to fit each other.”

“But–”

“No buts. You can’t cheat fate…” A quiet blanket settled over the almost empty flower shop. “Take a stroll and try to think of something else. Here.” 

A vine covered in different sized leaves emerged from the ceiling at a single twitch of his fingers. Yeosang held his hand out and a leaf the length of your forearm fell off the branch right in his palm. He grabbed each end of the blade and beckoned you to hold out your wrist. The leaf was neatly tied around your timer, successfully covering the changing numbers.

“Now you can’t look at the timer and won’t worry about where you are or who you’re around.”

One corner of your mouth curved up in a gracious smile. “Thank you, flower.”

“I gotchu, now fly away and don’t come back unless you wanna show me your love for all eternity.”

With a new found confidence and a leaf on your wrist, you big Yeosang goodbye and left the flower shop per order. You didn’t know where to go. Any location you thought of was either too fancy or not fancy enough to meet your soulmate in. The idea to wait outside your front porch wasn’t too bad. If they turned out to be a complete weirdo you could just run and hide. The downside would be that they would know where you lived. Not wanting to waste anymore time, you decided to just walk in a straight line and let the path guide you to the person destiny chose for you. 

It was a beautiful day. There wasn’t a single cloud in the blue sky, and the sun could freely share its warm rays with the planet. People made the most of the sunny weather and spent the day outdoors. Some took longer walks with their dogs, while others decided to enjoy the clear sky in the outdoor seating areas of coffee shops. As you passed a park, you caught sight of students in high school uniforms with blankets strewn beneath them and books lying open on their laps. The bright weather sent everyone in a good mood and you just hoped the atmosphere wouldn’t change when your timer ran out. Getting sidetracked was easier than you thought. A little further up ahead the road was a fairly new shop which had just opened a few months ago. You did visit it a handful of times to your mother’s requests of buying different ingredients for her and just like then, her gentle voice echoes in your head reminding you to stop by Jung’s Magic Shop on your way home for a bottle of moon petal essence. 

The bell above the door jingled at your entry. A surge of intensity hit your nose the moment you stepped over the threshold that you thought blood would ooze out of your nostrils. One word to describe the store would be chaos. The space was the size of a shoe box and crowded due to the many unopened boxes, random piles of books that couldn’t fit in the bookshelves and random trinkets laying around. At first glance, the shop appeared to be empty, but as you reached the register and tapped the small bell with the sign ‘tap me’ attached to it, a man of short stature emerged from a cloud of smoke.

“Hello little fairy,” he greeted and leaned his elbow on the counter while resting his chin on his palm. “What can I help you with this fine evening?”

Jung Wooyoung, the youngest wizard of his family line, was most known for being the new addition in town and almost setting the whole building on fire on his first night there. He was a handsome wizard. Black hair that fell neatly over his nape and tickled the beginning of his shoulders. His equally dark eyes were obscured by a heart-shaped fringe. It was nearly impossible not to squirm beneath his gaze, but the tension would disappear with a quick flash of his bright smile. The most alluring feature of his face would be the mole right beneath his right eye, and if the viewer was extra observant, they would notice a subtle beauty mark on the center of his bottom lip. 

“Hey Woo, do you perhaps have some of that moon petal essence?”

“Hmmmmm, I think they are all reserved for other customers.” The hopeful light faded from your eyes and he was quick to take back his words, lowering his tone and whispering behind his hand as if the place was bustling with customers. “But… I can just tell Mrs. Yang, I dropped her bottle.”

“Thank you.”

“No worries, little fairy. Take it as a gift for being my favorite customer.” His eyes jumped down to your wrist and a wrinkle appeared between the skin of his furrowed brows. “What’s wrong with your wrist?”

“Oh, this?” You raised your hand and gave him a better view of the leaf. “It’s nothing, I’m supposed to meet my soulmate soon and I couldn’t stop worrying, so Yeosang tied it to keep me from worrying.”

Wooyoung hummed as his hand reached out to play with the knot of the blade. “Yeosang is that little flower fairy, huh?” He dreamily sighed. “He is beautiful.”

“And happily taken by his soulmate,” you stated matter-of-factly.

“Oh, don’t remind me! Can’t a mind fantasize in peace?” Agile as a fox, he changed the course of the conversation, seemingly no longer interested in the ‘little flower fairy’ and his boyfriend. “Well how much time is there left until you meet the lucky one?”

“It showed less than an hour back at Yeosang’s shop.”

“And you walked all the way over here?” You nodded, a bit clueless at the sudden question. “That’s a thirty minute walk, little one and that’s if you walk at a brisk pace.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that I think you need to get out of here unless you want to find the love of your life in this chaos.”

Your eyes widened and you quickly ushered him to get your moon petal essence. 

“Jeez, woman. I’m going!”

As soon as Wooyoung handed you the essence trapped in a bottle the size of your pinky, you slipped it over your head and let it dangle around your neck, and dashed back out into the busy street. The door nearly hit you on the way out and you could’ve sworn you heard a cackle come from the inside, definitely Wooyoung pulling some strings to mess with you. A harsh gust of wind  swooshed around the many bodies and you threw your hand up to shield your eyes from the flying dust and dirt. What you didn’t expect though was for your leaf to come undone and travel through the air.

“Oh no!” You gasped and quickly ran after it.

As if sensing your chasing figure, the wind picked up and pushed the leaf further away. Like a game of cat and mouse, the blade would land on the ground and then jump a few paces whenever you’d get too close. It was taunting you and that alone made you more determined to capture it again. The thought of Wooyoung casting a spell on it back in his shop didn’t sound too unbelievable. The more time you spent with the wizard, the more of his foxy personality broke through his innocent act. 

“Come back here,” you hissed and chased the lively leaf while successfully avoiding collision with the other pedestrians. A brilliant idea flashed before your eyes and everyone watched in awe as your blue wings fluttered to life, and lifted your figure off the ground.

The leaf brushed off your command and continued its path further and further away from you. There was actually no point in retrieving it, but you realized you felt much better not having to look at your timer than when it was visible for everyone to see. Even now, as you were losing your mind trying to get it back, you didn’t think to glance down at your wrist. Entirely occupied by the stupid part of a random plant Yeosang summoned, you didn’t realize your timer was rapidly coming to an end. Your wings flapped rapidly, propelling you forward. Victory filled your veins as you inched closer and closer to the blade. The harsh wind stilled and the leaf fell limp on the ground just as you touched down with the soles of your feet. You ran the last stretch with your arm extended and fingers spread, ready to capture the green piece. A noise of triumph escaped your mouth as you grabbed the end of the blade.

“I got you!” 

What you didn’t expect was for the leaf to be pinched between a thumb and forefinger, twice the size of yours, at the other end. You traced the path up the stranger’s arm and gazed into the most beautiful pair of brown eyes you could ever imagine — round and wide, akin to a surprised bunny. A bubble you weren’t aware of burst in your ears and all of your thousands thoughts stored in various chests scattered in the vast space of your mind were reduced to nothing. Your breath was trapped in your throat, yet you didn’t feel the need for air as long as you kept staring at the stranger. A soft breeze — nothing like before — brushed against your bodies and a rain of cherry blossoms followed. The petals landed in the stranger’s hair and blended with his baby pink strands. The man was breathtakingly beautiful and your heart squeezed in content of being the center of his attention. 

“Hey,” he said and your insides nearly collapsed from the combination of his slight rasp and soft-spoken tone. His raspberry-colored lips curled upward and dethroned the sun as the warmest source of light in the galaxy. The fairy who couldn’t go a day without speaking was for once at a loss for words. 

“Hi,” you squeaked out and hastily rose to your feet, letting go of the oh-so-important leaf.

The man chuckled and followed your lead. His long legs were trapped in a pair of khaki pants and the pine-colored vest was buttoned up, showcasing his sunkissed arms and collarbones, and even a sliver of his belly button adorned by a trail of bright pink hairs. A brown string was tied around his neck, with just enough space for a pinky to slip between his skin and the material, and the ends disappeared beneath his shirt. That wasn’t the only accessory on his beautiful body — a light watch, in the same hue as the necklace, sat snuggly around his left wrist. A pair of beige boots fit his outfit perfectly and perhaps even made him an inch or two taller.

The attire was very comforting as it reminded you of your relatives and the few fairy friends you had. It wasn’t something people wore around these parts as most residents weren’t of fairy descent and stuck to the more modern-day clothes. Before you could spiral into what-ifs, a motion behind him caught your attention and as you threw a glance over his shoulder, the prettiest pair of wings in fairy history came into view. They were much brighter than his hair and glowed with iridescence, shifting from shades of lavender to bubblegum pink beneath the sunlight. But that wasn’t all. A shimmering gold ran through the venations, starting thick and then thinning out as they neared the edge of his wings. The stranger belonged in a bedtime story based solely on his appearance, a tale deserving to be shared with the world.

“I’m Seonghwa.” 

He tucked the leaf behind his ear and held out his hand, patiently waiting for you to reciprocate. The moment your palm touched his, he ran his thumb over your knuckles and gave it a soft shake. Gentle ripples erupted along the surface of the skin he touched and it brought a sense of serenity you only felt while being in a pool of water. Seonghwa gently and slowly turned your hand sideways, as if waiting for any attempts of resisting, but continued when you didn’t fight him on it. Multiple zeros glared up at him and a smile, broader than the one before, spread across his cheeks. 

“And do tell, is my soulmate’s name as beautiful as her face?”

An embarrassing noise was born as the question struck you like a golden arrow launched from Cupid himself and lodged itself in the center of your heart. To make matters worse, Seonghwa pulled your hand up to his face and planted a chaste, but lingering kiss on your ring finger. If Yeosang knew that a mere kiss and some sugar coated words would leave your brain fried, he would’ve done it a long time ago. Through the haze of pink hearts and desire, you managed to give up your name, but not without stumbling over your tongue a few times first.

“I love being right,” he admitted and you were a second away from fainting in the arms of your soulmate.

“I–I, yo–you– I–I mean, what!?”

Seonghwa chuckled, clearly amused and endeared with your flustered behaviour. “You have a pretty name.”

“Your face is pretty!”

You didn’t mean for the compliment to slip out after not even five minutes of meeting your soulmate, but you were drunk on him and everyone knew a drunk mind spoke a sober truth. Nonetheless, you slapped your hand over your mouth as if it would take the confession back and erase his memory. Little did you know that Seonghwa had already stored it in a folder named ‘prettiest flower’ somewhere in the far back of his head with the intent to reminisce about the sacred first meeting every once in a while. 

“Thank you, darling.”

A few people had gathered around you to witness the life changing moment of two strangers, but neither paid them any thought. Seonghwa scratched the back of his neck with his left hand — the other one still holding yours — and cleared his throat, slightly feeling the pressure of multiple eyes on him. 

“Do you wanna get out of here?” 

“Please.”

There was no step by step manual telling you what to do after meeting your soulmate. You wished though. Something like Soulmate 101 or The Soulmate Startup, it would certainly help you in times like these — you and Seonghwa sitting on a random park bench, a vacant seat between you and the March wind doing all the talking. The scenery was pretty though. An oblong pond stretched from one end of the park to the other as a long trail went around it. Years ago, probably an elderly garden fairy, planted a bunch of various trees along the path that had now grown into beautiful timbers of various sizes. You weren’t that skilled in flora, it was Yeosang’s specialty, but you managed to snag up a thing or two from the decade long friendship. 

There was an array of oak, maple and pine trees that would look nothing short of magical during the harvest season, but it didn’t mean the different hues of green were any less pretty. The growing leaves just needed to emerge from their buds and the park would look lively again. The few cherry blossom trees were at least in full bloom and distracted the visitors from the otherwise naked park, and a couple of evergreen shrubs were blooming nicely. The few ducks and swans were a cute bonus too. You thought back to Yeosang and Jongho’s story. How the younger immediately introduced Yeosang to his family, to his pack, and they welcomed him with open arms or how the garden fairy wasted no time taking Jongho to his family owned — now, entirely written over on Yeosang’s name as both Mr. and Mrs. Kang retired — business.  

“So… what kind of fairy are you?” Seonghwa’s voice snapped you back to the present. 

Most people usually guessed what abilities you had based on the color of your wings. Blue could only represent so much and the element that was always tied to it was water. Either Seonghwa was really clueless or wanted to spark up a conversation… You had a feeling it was the latter.

“I’m a water fairy,” you replied and crossed your legs over each other, subconsciously leaning closer into Seonghwa who sat with his arm draped over the back of the bench. The heat emitting from his limb grazing your shoulders and neck. “But that’s obvious because of my wings… Your wings are beautiful though and like, I’ve never seen wings in that color before and I’m trying to understand what fairy you are, but it’s so hard!”

By that point, you were already rambling. The words trickled out of your mouth like a waterfall with no end in sight, but Seonghwa didn’t mind. On the contrary, he bashfully smiled, as if you had told him the stars belonged in his eyes — which wasn’t far from the truth. People, more often than not, praised him for his wings, calling them beautiful, breathtaking, magnificent — every flattering word you could think of. Seonghwa thought he had grown immune to the compliments. However, hearing it from you sent a heat to his cheeks challenging the pink peonies in Yeosang’s shop.

“Thank you…” He meekly replied and lowered his voice down to a whisper. “People try to guess, but no one’s gotten it right yet… I’m a garden fairy.”

You felt stupid for not thinking of that, but in your defence, most garden fairies you knew (just Yeosang’s family) had green wings and green or brown hair — the two main colors symbolizing earth and flora. Of course you wouldn’t assume Seonghwa was one too as he radiated the colors of strawberry ice cream and lavender skies. 

“Are you like… royalty?”

Seonghwa couldn’t stop the laughter bubbling out of him and threw a hand over his mouth to keep his volume down so as to not disturb the other visitors. In all his years of living, he had never been mistaken for royalty. His cute pink blush intensified and was identical to the vibrant camellias on his left. 

“N–No!” He said between the laughter and waved his other hand. “It’s not common, but fairies with parents who have different abilities can be born with… abnormal wings. My mom is a garden fairy and my dad a fire fairy.”

“Wow, that’s cool. I didn’t know that at all.”

“Not many do. I mean, I have yet to meet another fairy with a not-so-normal pair of wings.”

You chuckled. “If that’s why you came here, then you’ll be disappointed.”

“How come?”

“There’s only one other fairy family here and they are gardeners too, but not the flashy-kind like you.”

This time he didn’t cosplay a tomato or shy away from your kind advances. Seonghwa leaned in and the distance between you was reduced by half. You gulped at the sudden close proximity and your eyes darted down to his lips curving up in a smirk. 

“I’m not disappointed.”

Snapping out of your trance, you found his eyes again. The round rabbit-like shape taking on that of a siren. “Huh?”

“You said if that’s why I came here then I’m going to be disappointed and well, I’m not. Wanna know why?” 

You didn’t trust your usually loud and bubbly voice to be stable anymore, not when his scent of burned sugar and sunflower fields infiltrated all of your senses. Playing your cards safe, you nodded slowly.

“Because I found something better.”

The question of what lingered in your eyes and while Seonghwa could see the curiosity shimmering in them, he wanted to hear you ask. Perhaps the soulmate connection was stronger than both of you thought because a warm feeling spread through your abdomen, like an instinct telling you when danger was near or when you could feel someone staring at you from afar, and you decided to take a step from your unusually shy exterior. 

“What?”

Seonghwa’s grin broadened. It wasn’t a matter of what, but of who. His tongue ran over his bottom lip as he leaned even closer to you. The three letter word rested on the gap of his teeth, just gauging your wide eyed expression. In a whisper, far more quiet than the calm ripple of waves or comforting sound of bubbles bursting he answered your question.

“You.”

“M– Me?”

He hummed as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. More obvious than the grass being green and the sky blue. “Yes, you. My pretty water fairy. The prettiest water fairy.”

A rush of heat attacked your face and the urge to look away was almost bigger than the urge to run your fingers through his wavy hair. The looming fear of taking a step too far made you hold back and keep your hands glued to your sides. Seonghwa wasn’t having it though. With trembling hands, he gently hooked his pointer finger beneath your chin and rested his thumb in the center of your chin, the tip grazing your bottom lip,  and directed you back to face him. Fierce bubbles reached the surface of the pond and the ducks quacked in panic at the sudden change in their peaceful environment. 

“Don’t shy away from me, pretty. I’ve been waiting for years to finally meet you and I want to stare at you until I’ve memorized the most discreet feature of your beautiful face.”

“Seonghwa,” you whispered. Your heart was loud in your ears and the hot blood wouldn’t stop rushing to your head. If you were to check your temperature, the thermometer would break from the heat and you’d be rushed to the nearest hospital. Little would they know you weren’t suffering a severe fever, but of love sickness instead.

“May I…” he hesitated as well. The two-hour-long interaction, mostly spent sitting in front of the pond, made you feel as though you had known each other for two decades. 

Sensing his caution, you wrapped your fingers around the wrist attached to your face. You gave him a soft squeeze of encouragement and whispered, ���It’s okay.”

Seonghwa cleared his throat. “May I kiss you?”

“Please.”

A pair of soft and plush lips pressed against yours and a tidal wave whirled in your stomach, flipping all of your senses into overdrive. The hand that was originally cupping your chin maneuvered to cradle your cheek as his other hand fell on the cramped space between your and his thighs. Your own fingers reached the sides of his vest to not stray with the pink haze clouding your rational thoughts. It was nice to be taken care of and follow someone else’s lead every once in a while, and Seonghwa proved he could do just that. Eager and wanting more, you pushed against him and Seonghwa took it as a sign to gently swap his tongue against your bottom lip, practically begging to be let in and who were you to deny him entry?  A rich, romantic and soothing fragrance surrounded you as the kiss deepened and your fingers slid up his sides, and gently wrapped around his neck. The need to run them through his hair grew alongside the desire bubbling in your abdomen, but you refused to mess up his neat waves. 

As you parted to relieve your burning lungs, the sight surrounding the bench stole the breath right out of your throat. Multiple thorny stems protruded from the ground and created a curving wall around your bench, leaving a slim opening facing the pond. White, red, yellow and pink petals bloomed through the thousand green leaves shielding you from the outside world. It was magical, something you’d only see in movies or flower gardens where the caretakers would trim and bend the bushes until they fit their vision. You gingerly extended your hand and traced the outline of a pink rose. They were fully grown and unraveled, the kind people would kill to get their hands on for their partners on Valentine’s Day. 

“Why…?”

You were so immersed in the flowers to notice Seonghwa shrinking into himself. Shoulders hunched up to his chin, fingers fiddling in his lap and bottom lip caught between his teeth. The powers of a fairy were both a blessing and a curse for different reasons. Garden fairies could manipulate greenery to create art deserving of a place in the Louvre. Until they were fully in control of those powers, their emotions dictated their actions, often leading to chaos like a cocoon of roses mirroring Seonghwa’s warm heart.

“Did you do this?”

Seonghwa was snapped out of his embarrassed trance and sheepishly smiled. His hand came up to rub the back of his neck despite not feeling an itch and then wiped it obnoxiously off his thigh. There was no point in hiding the truth. A bush didn’t just sprout overnight let alone in a matter of seconds, at least not without the help of a fairy. Seonghwa was still reluctant to admit the truth. What person would want to hear about their soulmate becoming overwhelmed by emotions to the point where they lose the reins of their powers? There was nothing attractive or admirable about that. Not at Seonghwa’s grown age! 

As much as he wanted to play it off and play stupid. Answering with a simple shrug of his shoulders and feigning a look of surprise. Seonghwa was a worse liar than someone who couldn’t control their powers, the truth spilling out from him despite his best efforts. “...Maybe?”

The garden fairy had yet to gauge your reaction. He wished to spare the flustered image of you in his mind for just a little while longer before ruining it forever with the expected disappointment souring your features. 

“Red for love and passion…” Your voice rang out like a wind chime and Seonghwa  slowly looked up at you who had your eyes set on the beautiful flowers. “Yellow for warmth and friendship. Pink for joy and appreciation, and white for new beginnings.”

“You know the meaning behind them,” Seonghwa whispered in awe. 

A soft smile spread across your face. “It would be embarrassing if I didn’t considering my best friend is a garden fairy.”

There was a mutual understanding not to prance over the obvious mishap and Seonghwa released a blow of relief as you didn’t laugh at him and the slip of control over his abilities. The silence returned with a comforting undertone, soft and steady, allowing space for peace to settle in. Neither you nor Seonghwa tensed or fidgeted at the lack of conversation and simply basked in each other’s presence. The fear and sheer anxiety of meeting your soulmate was for nothing as Seonghwa proved to be more tender than a flower. The flame burning inside of you flickered brighter with each gentle word he spoke and you hoped, with every ounce of your being, that he felt the same, that he too was drawn to this connection as deeply as you were. 

“The flowers are for you.” Seonghwa was the first to interrupt the silence. Perhaps the soulmate connection ran deeper than a simple countdown leading up to the moment you met.

“Huh?”

“The roses. They are for you. It’s what I felt– What I feel when I’m with you.”

“Oh!”

He let out a sound something between a huff and chuckle at your sudden rigid position while you begged for your face to cool off.

“Would it be wrong of me to assume you feel the same?”

“Not at all.” You bit the inside of your lip and tapped your fingers along your thigh. “Would it be wrong of me to say I really like you?”

Seonghwa held your gaze. The warmth of his smile seeping into your bones and spreading throughout your already heated body. He gently dropped his hand on the wooden surface with the palm facing the clear sky. Cautious yet daring, your finger extended from your remaining fingers as if testing the waters. It grazed the soft skin of his palm and it was the brief contact you needed to slide your hand in his, fingers intertwining and giving each other comforting squeezes.

“Not at all,” he breathed out, his thumb running along the side of yours.

Bonus: 

“No, Jongho, you don’t understand. I told her I didn’t want to see her if she wasn't coming back with her soulmate. It’s been hours since then! What if she’s been kidnapped? Or murdered? Or sold overseas?!”

In the time you were enjoying the company of your newfound soulmate — showing Seonghwa the town where bits and pieces of your childhood were sprinkled in the streets, coffee shops, book shops, restaurants, playgrounds — Yeosang was slowly losing his mind in the safety of his flower shop, prancing back and forth as his mind theorized a hundred different ways harm could come your way. Jongho helplessly watched his soulmate get his daily steps in. The werewolf, despite being younger than the fairy, was quite calm about the whole ordeal. It was more likely that your phone had died than for your soulmate to kidnap and take you to another country in a span of three hours. 

“Yeosang, love, I need you to calm down–”

“Don’t tell me to calm down, Jongho!”

The werewolf threw his hands up in surrender. It wasn’t everyday the calm and collected garden fairy who followed strangers home to see their puppies and kittens lashed out on others, especially not his own soulmate. 

“Whoa, can we go back to using our inner voices, please?”

That seemed to snap Yeosang out of his frustrated stupor. He sighed and ran a hand through his multicolored hair. “Sorry, Jjong. I’m just worried for her.”

“I get that, but working yourself up over nothing won’t help. I mean, you haven’t even tried calling her…”

“That’s because I don’t want to interrupt if everything’s going alright! That would just be embarrassing for us both!”

As Jongho parted his lips to reassure his boyfriend that there was nothing embarrassing about checking on his best friend to see if she was alive, the door of the flower shop opened. The person Yeosang had been prematurely growing gray hairs over waltzed in with a bright smile on her face and a handsome man in tow. Yeosang’s jaw went slack and Jongho leaned back in shock, certainly not expecting you to heed Yeosang’s threat and bring your soulmate to his very shop. 

You cleared your throat, “Yeosang, Jongho. This is Seonghwa, my soulmate. Seonghwa, this is my best friend Yeosang and his soulmate Jongho.”

© HONGJOONGSPOETRY 2025. All rights reserved. Copying, editing, reposting or translating my work is not allowed.

[hopingforrainydays]

if brains were gold - part three | d. malfoy

pairing: draco malfoy x fem!reader

warnings: light bullying, reader is in crisis

word count: 2.5k

summary: the third installment for this series. draco malfoy is your soulmate, but where do you go from here?

author’s note: so *technically* this is the final part, but i could definitely be convinced to give you guys another <3 i love these two too much to leave them

read part one | part two

masterlist

requests are open!

--

The silence stretched between you like an unspoken war. For days, maybe weeks, you had convinced yourself that it was better this way—better not to acknowledge the truth that had settled uncomfortably in your chest. But denial was a fragile shield, and it had cracked the moment Draco Malfoy called you darling.

You had spent years wondering about your soulmate. Years. Who they were, what they looked like, what sort of person they would be. The connection between you had always been strange—strong but quiet, never intrusive, never forceful. It was like an old radio signal, always there in the background, tuning in and out at its own whim. But now it was dead air.

Draco knew.

He had known since the Potions exam, since you had reached out with that careless apology. Maybe he had suspected before, but that was the moment everything shifted.

And what did he do? Nothing. No acknowledgement, no confrontation, not even a whisper of recognition. It wasn't rejection—at least, not directly—but it felt like something worse. Indifference.

You weren't sure why that stung so much. Malfoy had never been anything to you except an annoyance, a thorn in your side with a sharp tongue and a sharper wit. He was arrogant and insufferable, and you had spent years exchanging insults as if they were greeting. He was the last person you had ever wanted your soulmate to be.

And yet.

He had called you darling like it was the easiest thing in the world. As if he had always been saying it. As if he had always known.

By the time you found yourself outside the Slytherin common room, it was well past curfew. The dungeons were cold, the flickering torchlight casting long shadows against the stone walls. It was foolish to come here, reckless even. But you had never been one to leave things unfinished.

The entrance was hidden, of course, but that never stopped you before. You rapped your knuckles against the wall, once, twice, before stepping back and waiting.

Painfully waiting.

The silence stretched long enough that you wondered if you had made a mistake, if he wouldn't come, if he would leave you standing here alone in the dark. But then the wall shifted, and Draco Malfoy stood before you, expression unreadable.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. His gaze flickered over you, searching, calculating. You had spent so many years seeing that look on his face—contempt, amusement, superiority. But now it was something else entirely. Something uncertain.

"You're not supposed to be here," he said finally, voice low and even.

"You don't get to ignore me."

His lips twitched, almost into a smirk. "I think I can do whatever I please."

You inhaled sharply, steadying yourself. "You knew," you accused. "You've known."

His expression didn't change. "Yes."

The confirmation knocked the breath from your lungs, even though you had already known the answer.

"You should have told me."

Draco leaned against the doorway, arms folding across his chest. "Should I have? Would it have changed anything?"

"Yes."

He tilted his head slightly, studying you. "How?"

You faltered. You didn't know how to explain the way it had felt to be ignored, to feel that connection—so strange and intangible—suddenly severed. How could you explain the ache that settled in your bones, the resentment that had curdled into something darker? A part of you wondered if he ever felt the same.

"I wouldn't have spent weeks wondering if I was going mad."

Draco exhaled, slow and measured. "I thought it would be easier this way."

"For who?"

His jaw tightened. "For both of us."

"Is that what you want?" Your words were barely a whisper.

Draco hesitated. It was brief, nearly imperceptible, but you saw it. And for the first time, you saw something vulnerable and unsure in him.

"You're not supposed to be my soulmate," he admitted. "It doesn't make sense."

It hurt more than it should have. You weren't sure what you had expected—some grand declaration, a dramatic revelation that would make everything click into place. But this? This was hesitation. This was uncertainty.

"You think I wanted this?" You laughed, hollow. "You think I wanted you?"

His expression shuttered.

You turned to leave, because you weren't sure if you could stand there any longer and endure another second of whatever this was. Before you could take a step, his hand caught your wrist, fingers curling around your skin.

The touch sent a shiver through you, the bond between you flaring to life for the first time in weeks. And for just a moment, you could feel it—his emotions, tangled and chaotic, the uncertainty and frustration and something else, something you didn't dare name.

"I don't know what to do with this," he admitted, voice quiet.

You swallowed hard. "Then figure it out."

Draco didn’t let go, not immediately. He stared at you like he was seeing you for the first time, like he was trying to make sense of something impossible. And maybe he was.

Then, finally, he released you. The absence of his touch was immediate, and you hated that you missed it.

“Goodnight, darling,” he murmured.

It was the first time he had ever said it with meaning. And you knew, without a doubt, that this wasn’t over.

The next day was nothing short of a disaster.

The weight of the previous night clung to you, turning the morning sluggish and disorienting. You had barely slept, thoughts of Draco and the damning truth of your soulmate bond refusing to give you a moment's peace. Maybe, you thought, if you ignored it long enough, it would all go away. Maybe he would act as though he didn't know.

But the universe wasn't that kind.

Your next Potions exam had gone exactly as expected: a catastrophe. Whether it was karma, poetic justice, or sheer mental exhaustion, your mind blanked the moment the questions met your gaze. You had spent the entire time staring at the parchment, desperately willing the answers to appear, but there was no voice whispering guidance in the back of your mind this time. No invisible presence steering your hand.

You could only be thankful that it wasn't a practical.

The exam was collected, and you knew before Snape even looked at it: you had failed.

And everyone else knew it, too.

The whispers began before you even left the classroom, a venomous buzz creeping into the air. But Pansy never did bother to whisper.

"Well, well," she drawled, strolling up beside you with all the grace of a cat preparing to sink its claws in. "Looks like your streak of academic excellence was short-lived."

You exhaled through your nose and kept walking. Not today.

"Where's that determination and hard work now?" Blaise added, his voice laced with amusement. "Or did your mysterious 'study habits' stop working?"

The words shouldn't have stung, but they did. You had expected this, even braced for it, and yet, standing there in the dim corridor, surrounded by judging eyes and cruel laughter, you felt like a cornered animal.

"Maybe she finally realized reading the back of her textbook doesn't count as studying," Daphne Greengrass quipped, arms folded as she leaned against the stone wall. Usually so quiet, she seemed to have found her confidence in your downfall.

"Or maybe," Pansy interrupted, stepping directly into your path, "whoever helped you the first time decided you weren't worth the effort."

Your nails dug into your palms. That one hit a little too close.

You swallowed down the lump in your throat and forced out a scoff. "If you're all so interested in my academic performance, I can hand you a signed copy of my failure if you'd like."

"Oh, no need," Pansy grinned, tilting her head in mock sympathy. "We'll hear about it from Snape soon enough."

The laughter flared again, grating and sharp, and despite your best efforts, the anger started to rise. Not just at them—but at him. Because of course, Draco was there. Of course, he stood at the back of the group, arms crossed, expression unreadable as he watched them pick at you like vultures. He said nothing. Not a single word in your defense.

Coward.

Fine. If he was going to stand there and let them tear you apart, then maybe it was time for a little reciprocity. A single sentence, just one, was all it would take. The soulmate bond was a whisper away from exposure. All you had to do was let the words fall.

Your soulmate was forced to help you.

Draco Malfoy was forced to help you.

It would be so easy. The look on his face would be priceless. The stunned silence of his so-called friends? Worth every ounce of humiliation you had endured. He deserved to feel it too. He deserved—

But you couldn't do it.

Because the moment your lips parted, Draco met your gaze.

And for a split second—just a fraction of a breath—you saw something beneath the cold, practiced mask. Not disdain. Not mockery. Something raw.

You shut your mouth. Inhaled sharply. Exhaled slower.

No.

No, you weren’t going to give them the satisfaction. And you weren’t going to give him the easy way out, either. If he wanted to stand there and say nothing, then let him stew in his own cowardice. If he wasn’t ready to face this—face you—then he could choke on his silence.

You straightened, forcing a smirk onto your face that you didn’t quite feel. “I suppose we’ll see if my next score is just as bad,” you said breezily, stepping past Pansy with an air of indifference you had to drag out of your very soul. “Then again, you lot seem far more invested in my life than your own. Maybe I should be worried for you instead?”

"Don't worry," Pansy called after you. "I’m sure whoever helped you before will be happy to watch you fail on your own.”

This time, you didn’t stop walking.

Your hands were trembling by the time you reached the common room. You collapsed onto the nearest armchair, pressing your fingers to your temple, exhaling hard. The weight of unspoken words sat heavy on your chest, the realization of what you had nearly done slamming into you like a freight train.

You could have exposed him.

And yet, you hadn’t.

Maybe that was the cruelest part of all: you weren’t sure if you regretted it.

Regret was a terrible thing, after all, and it was what kept you lingering in the corridors like a ghost instead of attending the rest of your classes. Your mind would not stop—a dangerous thing, as it almost always meant that he could hear you.

At this hour, the halls were mostly empty. Some students, rebellious or otherwise, stumbled past you with a look that read, if you don't tell, neither will I. But you didn't see them, not really.

Your hands curled into fists as you paced. Maybe you should expose him—tell them all how he looked at you when he thought no one would notice, how his gaze lingered longer than it should, how there was something just beneath the surface of his carefully constructed indifference. Tell them all how he wasn't as untouchable as he pretended to be.

You could already imagine the look on Pansy's face.

Oh, but you wouldn't. Because as much as it burned, as much as it twisted in your chest, you knew the truth: he was trapped just as much as you were.

A sound behind you made you stop, breath catching. Footsteps. Not hurried, not hesitant, not like any of the others—measured. You knew who it was before you turned.

Draco.

He stood at the end of the corridor, half-lit by the sun beaming through the large windows. Shadows carved sharp angles into his face. His expression was unreadable, but his hands were shoved deep in his pockets. A tell. He was unraveling, too.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The silence stretched, charged and heavy, pulling tight between you.

Then, finally, you spoke. "Why didn't you say anything?" Your voice was quiet, but the accusation was there, threaded through every syllable.

Draco exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. "What did you expect me to do?"

At this, you faltered. "I don't know. Defend me?"

"I can't—"

"Can't or won't?"

His eyes flashed. For a second, just a second, you thought he might say it—admit what had been simmering between you for weeks. But then he looked away, lips pressing into a thin line.

"That's not fair," he said.

You scoffed. "Oh, you want to talk about fair?"

Draco's gaze snapped back to you, sharper now. "I didn't join in, did I?"

"As if that's enough," she shot back. "As if standing there, watching them tear me down, makes you any better."

His face twisted. A crack in his carefully built walls. "You think I liked it?"

"Then why?"

Draco let out a slow breath, running a hand over his face. "Because if I step in, if I fight them for you, it won't stop. It'll get worse."

Your throat tightened. "For me or for you?"

Silence. His silence was answer enough.

You shook your head, stepping back. "Coward."

That got to him. You saw it in the way his shoulders tensed, in the way his fingers twitched like he wanted to reach for something but didn't know how.

"Maybe," he admitted, voice low. "But you don't know what you're asking me to risk."

Your voice came quieter now. "If you don't take the risk, you'll lose." Lose me, you thought.

Something broke between you then, a shift too sudden and sharp to stop. Draco took a step forward, then another, and suddenly he was too close, the air between you charged and electric and too much.

"I hate this," he muttered, almost to himself. "I hate watching them talk to you like that. I hate pretending I don't—"

He cut himself off, but it was too late. The words hung there, unfinished but undeniable.

Your heart pounded. "Then don't."

Draco exhaled, a shaky, uneven thing. His gaze dropped to your lips, just for a second, before he dragged it back up to meet your eyes.

"This is a mistake," he murmured.

I don't know what to do with this. Then figure it out.

"Probably."

And then he kissed you. It wasn't careful, wasn't measured—wasn't anything like the detached, untouchable persona he wore like armor. It was desperate, raw, full of all the things you hadn't said, all the tension that had been building for so long it felt inevitable.

Your hands fisted in his shirt, pulling him closer. He didn't fight you. Didn't pull away. He kissed you like he was starving, like you were the only thing the could sustain him. And maybe you were.

When you finally broke apart, breathless, he rested his forehead against yours. His eyes were still shut. "This changes everything."

You swallowed, fingers still curled into the fabric of his shirt. "Good."

Draco let out a soft, almost bitter chuckle. "You're impossible."

A small smirk fell over your lips. "And yet, here you are."

His eyes opened then, searching yours, and for the first time, you saw it—what he'd been trying to bury, what he had been so afraid of.

He was yours. He had been for a long time.

And now, finally, you both had stopped fighting it.

--

buy me a coffee

taglist: @v1rg1nvodkasprite @bi-andready-tocry @lolawassad

[bj-cuntycunt]

It's not everyday that you wake up and Spirk has become (sort of) canon

[theghostoficarus]

A Chat Pt.1

This is a part of my soulmate AU for anyone wondering! A little rushed and I had an art style change in the middle of it but I like it a lot :D If the text is hard to read, the transcript will be down here:

MK: Monkey king! *Mk falls* MK: That was awesome-! Oh! MK: You aren't monkey king, are you? Mac: No, I'm not MK: Are you okay Mr. ...? Mac: Macaque. Six-eared Macaque is my... full name. And I've been better. MK: I think I've heard about you... Mac: I would hope so, Mac: So you really don't remember me, huh? MK: Am I supposed to? Mac: MK, where are you from really? How did you pick up the staff? Did you ever stop to think about it? MK: I... Mac: Who are your actual parents? MK: ... Mac: ... Mac: I could teach you.

[short-honey-badger]

Phantom Pain

Little soul mate au where they feel each other's emotional and physical pain.

Warnings! A lil bit of angst and a lot of possessive Shanks cause I just can't help myself. Enjoy!

Masterlist

Phantom Pain Masterlist

Soulmates. Just the thought of them disgusted you. What good did it do anyone in this world to have someone else's pain and trauma to worry about? The joy of meeting your other half just wasn't worth all the hurt one had to go through, in your opinion. Yours certainly did nothing but cause you grief. Hangovers that weren't yours, to wounds from swordfights and shootouts. The worst had been the day your other half had lost his right arm.

Even now, almost a decade later, that phantom pain lingers, and with it, the guilt that isn't yours that eats away at you every time you acknowledge your soulmate. You ignore it the best you can, hell, you would be happy to never meet whoever they are. And you make sure to let them know that, too, with your own frustrated feelings. However, life had rarely been kind to you, and it wasn't going to stop tonight.

You know the moment you step into the only open tavern in the sleepy little town and see the red-haired man with a black cloak on at the bar, that tonight would be it. While he is covered, you can still tell that there is nothing on his left side and your arm aches something fierce. You debate with yourself. You could run away before your possible soulmate noticed you, or you could put on your big girl panties and go order a hot drink like you had planned.

You shiver violently, and the decision is quickly made. With a world weary sigh, you hang up your wet overcoat and then casually cross the room to sit at the bar several spots away from the one armed man. You order your drink and see out of the corner of your eye him staring at you, but you stay looking forward even when you notice him scoot down to the seat next to you.

Shanks stares at the person who had come into the bar, dark gaze curious. He'd felt you the moment you had walked into the bar, all angry emotions and swirling frustration directed right at him. Even through the negativity, the Yonko was desperate to know if you were the one. And he knew the fastest way to figure that out.

The grin that splits his face is full of glee and victory as you yelp loudly when he pinches the meat of his thigh. You whip around to glare at him, eye alight with indignation, but Shanks looks like the sun and moon just fell in his lap, "Found you," he says with a teasing tilt to his voice, "I've looked for you a long time, ya know that?"

You scoff at him and loom away to take a deep sip from your cup, "And I've been running," you quip meanly. Why? Why did he have to do this ro you now of all days? All you wanted was a nice evening to yourself, and of course, your soulmate seems obnoxiously good spirited.

Shanks laughs, and you can feel his merriment and joy at finding you. Your body desperately wants to act as well, but you fight down your biology and tell it to shut up and stay down. You've faught against this your entire life. You couldn't break now.

"I know," he says, and his words make you look at him with narrowed eyes, "I'm a dangerous man, Sweetheart. I know I've caused you a lot of pain, and I'm sorry about that."

You have to turn away from him with how genuine and soft he sounds. You drink deeply again and then set your mug down with a click. You've felt his guilt before, but having words go with it made you break just a little more.

"Well. Thanks for the apology, at least," you murmur and then tense when you watch him get off the stood. He circles around you and presses his front to your back. Despite yourself, your body relaxes, as if it knows that this man is meant for you. His one hand grips your hip, thumb moving to stroke the your skin under your shirt, and you shiver unintentionally.

"I plan on making up for it," he says casually and leans forward to bury his face in your hair, breathing in your scent. You smell like the sea and something else unique just to you. He can't get enough of it.

"I don't plan on sticking around," you tell him and shift to try and get away from the man, but the obvious pirate only tightens his grip on your hip.

Shanks laughs again, but it isn't a very nice sound this time, "Sorry to burst your bubble, Hon," he whispers, and you shiver at what he says next, "You don't have much of a choice this time," the Yonko waited long enough to find you, he wasn't about to let you go now.

He leans around you, hand leaving your hip to grasp your chin, and a kiss is bestowed on your lips, soft as a daisy, "Name is Shanks, by the way. What's yours, Sweetheart?"

[amethystarachnid]

SOULMATE BOND

⤷ ANTHONY “TONY” E. STARK

ᯓ★ Pairing: Anthony “Tony” E. Stark x fem!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: romance, fluff

ᯓ★ Request from: MARVEL bingo

ᯓ★ Story type: one shot

ᯓ★ Word count: 4.5k

ᯓ★ TW(s): stupid rumors go around because Tony is famous, not really anything serious

ᯓ★ Timeline: before the Avengers were formed

ᯓ★ Request: This bingo is absolutely adorable, can you write Soulmates + Tony Stark/fem!reader, please? ❤️ ( @ccbsrmsf1 )

ᯓ★ Comment if you want to be added to the taglist (specify if you want the everything taglist or for a specific character)

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo (requests open)

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

In this world, the soulmate bond manifests in the form of tattoos, inscribed on skin at the moment when you first meet your destined person. Not just any tattoo—it's the first thought they had when they saw you. A sentence or a phrase etched in permanent ink, completely out of your control, tied to the moment your eyes meet.

You've always found the idea romantic in theory, but after your mark appeared, you're a little less enthused. The thought branded on your wrist is definitely not the stuff of fairy tales.

I wonder if she knows she has a ketchup stain on her shirt.

It's funny, sure, but you can’t help but cringe every time you think about it. What kind of first impression did you make that day? You don't even know who your soulmate is, just that somewhere, out there, someone’s first impression of you was that you were a mess. It’s become a running joke among your friends, something you laugh off, but in the back of your mind, you can’t shake the feeling that when you finally meet them, it’s going to be awkward.

For years, you've searched crowds, looked at strangers’ tattoos, hoping to catch a glimpse of something that might give you a clue. No luck. Life moves on, and you stop looking quite so actively, focusing on your own career instead. After all, it’s not like you can control when or how you meet your soulmate. It'll happen when it happens.

But it does happen.

You’re at a charity gala in New York, your company hosting a benefit for technological innovations in renewable energy. As someone involved in the development sector, it's part of your job to represent the company, socialize, and network. That’s how you end up near the bar, scanning the room for anyone who looks like a potential business connection.

And that’s when you see him.

Tony Stark.

He’s hard to miss, obviously. Tony Stark, genius, billionaire, Avenger, and all-around larger-than-life personality. You’ve seen him on TV and in interviews, but there’s something different about seeing him in person. He’s wearing a perfectly tailored suit, drink in hand, looking amused by something someone just said.

Your first thought?

Huh, he’s taller than I thought.

Then, just as quickly, God, how does his suit fit that well?

You’re about to turn away and rejoin the group when, out of the corner of your eye, you see him glance in your direction. And then he starts walking right toward you.

Your heart leaps to your throat as you quickly glance down at yourself, suddenly self-conscious. Is there something on your face? Hair out of place? Ketchup stain?

“Hi,” Tony says, stopping in front of you, looking at you with a smirk. "You look like you're about to sprint off somewhere."

Your mouth opens, but no sound comes out for a second. You're so stunned that Tony Stark is standing right in front of you, speaking to you like you're someone worth noticing.

“Uh—hi. No, just… thinking,” you manage to say, your voice sounding much calmer than you feel.

He raises an eyebrow, amused. "Well, careful with all that thinking. Could lead to dangerous places."

You can’t help but laugh. It’s a stupid joke, but it lightens the mood, easing some of your nerves. Tony Stark is surprisingly… not intimidating? Maybe it's the easy confidence, the humor that makes him feel less untouchable.

“You’re here for the renewable energy thing, right?” Tony asks, leaning casually against the bar. “What do you do?”

You quickly tell him about your work, grateful that you're able to form coherent sentences again. The conversation flows surprisingly naturally, and before long, you’re actually enjoying yourself.

“So,” Tony says, eyes gleaming as he takes a sip of his drink. “Soulmate tattoo. What’s yours?”

You blink, surprised by the sudden question. You hadn’t expected the conversation to go there so quickly.

"Uh, well…" You hesitate for a moment, but then you figure, why not? It’s not like he’s going to see it. “It's… kind of embarrassing, actually.”

“Oh, those are the best kinds. Now you have to tell me,” he grins, leaning in with mock curiosity.

You laugh again and hold up your wrist, showing him the words you’ve grown so familiar with.

“I wonder if she knows she has a ketchup stain on her shirt,” you say, reading it out loud for him.

Tony bursts out laughing, a genuine laugh that lights up his entire face. “Wow. That’s… that’s actually amazing.”

“Yeah, well, I try not to think about it too much,” you reply with a self-deprecating smile.

Tony’s laughter dies down, but the smile lingers. "You never know. Could make for a great story when you meet them."

“Maybe,” you say with a shrug. “What about you? What's your tattoo?”

Tony hesitates, something almost unreadable flickering across his face. For a split second, he looks vulnerable, which is strange to see on someone like him. Then he smirks again, the mask of confidence snapping back into place.

“Oh, mine’s ridiculous,” he says, holding out his wrist.

You glance down at his tattoo and freeze.

Huh, he’s taller than I thought.

Your brain takes a moment to catch up. It’s your first thought. Your words. The exact thing you thought the moment you saw him across the room.

Your heart starts pounding. “Wait, this is…”

Tony looks at you, his expression shifting from playful to serious in an instant. “Yeah. Looks like we’ve got a match.”

You stare at him, speechless, as the weight of the realization sinks in. Tony Stark is your soulmate.

“I—I don’t understand,” you stammer. “When did you…”

“When did I think you had a ketchup stain?” he finishes for you with a wry smile. “About five years ago. Tech conference in Palo Alto. You walked in with a coffee in one hand and a sandwich in the other. And, well… you had a ketchup stain on your shirt.”

You blink, the memory slowly coming back to you. You remember that conference. You remember spilling ketchup on your shirt. But what you don’t remember is Tony Stark being there.

He watches you closely, almost like he’s waiting for something. “I didn’t think you’d ever find out,” he says softly.

“I—" You look up at him, everything finally clicking into place. "I can’t believe this.”

Tony shrugs, but there’s something tender in the way he looks at you now. “Believe it, sweetheart. Looks like we’ve got ourselves a story.”

You take a moment to process what just happened, your mind racing. You never imagined meeting your soulmate would be like this, in a crowded gala surrounded by the elite, and especially not with Tony Stark.

“So…” you say, trying to regain your composure. “This is kind of a big deal, right? I mean, we’re soulmates and all.”

“Big deal? That’s an understatement,” he replies with a playful smirk, clearly enjoying your flustered state. “But you have to admit, the ketchup stain part is pretty entertaining.”

You laugh, the tension easing slightly. “Yeah, it really is. I suppose it could’ve been worse. At least you didn’t think I was a complete disaster when you first saw me.”

Tony grins, tilting his head slightly. “I’ve seen worse. And I’m pretty sure I was the one who looked like a disaster when we first met. You, on the other hand, were effortlessly charming.”

Your cheeks flush at the compliment. “Effortlessly charming? You must be joking.”

“Nope.” He leans closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “You had a coffee in one hand and a sandwich in the other and you still managed to look amazing. That’s not something everyone can pull off.”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the smile creeping onto your face. “I appreciate that. But what are we supposed to do now? I mean, how does this whole soulmate thing work?”

Tony leans back against the bar, his expression turning thoughtful. “Well, there’s no manual for this kind of thing. But I guess we could start with getting to know each other better.” He gestures to the gala around you, where people are mingling and enjoying themselves. “Want to escape this place for a bit? I know a great rooftop view.”

Your heart races at the thought of spending more time alone with him. “Are you sure? Won’t people wonder where you’ve gone?”

“I’m sure they’ll be just fine without me for a little while,” he says with a wave of his hand. “Besides, I’m sure they’re all busy trying to impress each other. And I’d much rather be up there with you.” He grins, and the sincerity in his eyes makes you want to take a chance.

“Okay,” you agree, surprising even yourself. “Let’s go.”

You follow Tony through the crowded room, weaving between groups of people, past waiters carrying trays of hors d'oeuvres, and up a set of sleek glass elevators. The ride is quick, and your stomach flutters with anticipation. You can’t believe you’re about to spend more time with him—your soulmate.

When the doors slide open, you step out onto the rooftop, greeted by the cool night air and a stunning view of the city skyline. The stars twinkle overhead, and the lights of New York stretch out like a sea of diamonds.

Tony leads you to the edge, and you lean against the railing, taking in the breathtaking scene. The city buzzes below, alive and vibrant, and for a moment, everything feels perfect.

“Wow,” you breathe, trying to catch your breath. “This is beautiful.”

“Not as beautiful as you,” he says without missing a beat. His tone is playful, but the way he looks at you is serious, intense even.

Your heart skips a beat. “You’re really laying it on thick, aren’t you?”

“Only when it’s true,” he replies, moving a bit closer, so you can feel the warmth radiating off him. “It’s crazy to think we’ve been living in the same world for years and didn’t even know. I mean, the odds of us meeting here, of all places, are wild.”

“Yeah, it is,” you agree, your voice barely above a whisper. “I guess I always thought when I met my soulmate, it would be all fireworks and fate and romance.”

He chuckles softly. “And here we are, talking about ketchup stains and fancy suits. Very romantic.”

You smile at that. “It has its charm, I suppose.”

Tony turns to face you, his expression shifting to something more serious. “So, what do you want to know about me? I mean, besides the obvious—that I’m a genius billionaire superhero.”

You can’t help but laugh again. “Okay, let’s skip the superhero part. What’s something about you that no one else knows?”

He thinks for a moment, and you can see the wheels turning in his head. “I’ll give you a fun one. I have a massive fear of failing. It’s part of why I push myself so hard. If I’m not the best, then what am I?”

You blink in surprise. “Really? I would have never guessed that. You always seem so confident, so in control.”

“That’s the façade,” he admits, looking out over the city again. “Most people don’t see the doubts that keep me up at night.”

“Wow. Thanks for sharing that with me,” you say softly. “It’s refreshing to hear something real.”

“Your turn,” he insists, turning to face you again. “What about you? What’s something that keeps you up at night?”

You take a breath, the weight of your thoughts pressing down on you. “I worry that I won’t ever be enough. That I’ll never make the impact I want to make in the world. It feels like I’m always chasing something, you know?”

Tony nods, his expression understanding. “Yeah, I get that. But you’re doing something amazing. You’re involved in renewable energy. That’s huge.”

“I suppose,” you say, a little shyly. “But I still feel like I could be doing more. I just want to make a difference.”

“You already are,” he says, his voice steady. “And now you’re my soulmate, which is a pretty big deal in itself. We can make a difference together.”

Your heart swells at the thought. “Together, huh?”

“Yeah. Together,” he repeats, stepping a little closer. “I don’t know what the future holds, but I think we could figure it out. What do you say?”

You look into his eyes, and it’s as if the world around you fades away. It’s just you and him, standing on a rooftop overlooking the city, two souls destined to find each other. “I’d like that.”

“Good,” he says, a smile breaking across his face. “Because I definitely plan to keep you around.”

With that, he leans in, closing the distance between you, and for a moment, everything else fades away as your lips meet. It’s gentle at first, exploratory, but then deepens as the realization hits that you’re sharing this moment with your soulmate. The world is electric, and you feel the connection between you ignite.

When you finally pull away, breathless, you know this is only the beginning. There’s so much more to explore, to learn, and to discover together.

“Wow,” you breathe, your heart racing. “That was…”

“Yeah,” he interrupts, a teasing grin back on his face. “I know. Better than a ketchup stain, right?”

You can’t help but burst into laughter, shaking your head. “Okay, I’ll give you that one.”

And in that moment, as you stand together on the rooftop, laughter spilling into the night air, you realize that this was only the start of your incredible journey together. Soulmates, destined to make each other’s lives a little more colorful, ketchup stains and all.

For the next few weeks, life is a whirlwind. After that rooftop moment with Tony, things between you and him move fast but not in the way you expected. You see each other regularly, grabbing dinners, texting late at night, meeting up when you can. The chemistry is undeniable, and every time you're together, it feels like there's something bigger building between you two. But Tony's life is complicated. It comes with a lot of attention, and soon, the press starts to notice.

It begins with whispers, rumors on social media. Photos of you two at events surface, and the internet goes wild, speculating about who you are, what your relationship with Tony is, and, most importantly, whether you’re his new girlfriend or just another passing fling.

At first, it’s just gossip. But then it escalates.

One morning, you wake up to your phone buzzing uncontrollably. Texts, emails, and missed calls flood your notifications. You sit up in bed, confused, before your eyes land on one of the headlines plastered across your phone screen:

"Tony Stark’s New Mystery Woman: Another One in a Long Line of Flings?"

Your stomach drops. Another headline follows:

“Who is Y/N L/N? Stark’s Latest 'Arm Candy' or Something More?”

The articles are brutal. Some of them dig into your personal life, questioning your background, even speculating that you might be using Tony to further your career. Others call you names you can’t even bear to read. Worse, they paint Tony as a playboy who moves from one woman to the next, suggesting that you’re just the flavor of the month.

You throw your phone down on the bed, your hands shaking. How did it escalate so fast? It was just a few dinners, a couple of public appearances. You didn’t ask for this.

Later that day, you sit at a café, your mind buzzing with everything you’ve read. You're sipping your coffee when Tony shows up, his presence always commanding, but today there's something different in the air. He sits down across from you, the usual playful spark in his eyes replaced with concern.

"You're upset," he says simply, cutting right to the point.

You nod, swallowing the lump in your throat. "Have you seen the headlines?"

Tony leans back, crossing his arms. "Yeah, I saw them. Look, this happens sometimes. People like to talk, especially when they don't know what's going on. You just have to ignore it."

“Ignore it?” You stare at him in disbelief. “Tony, they’re tearing me apart online. They’re acting like I’m some… some gold-digger who's using you, or worse, just a fling in your long history of flings."

His jaw tightens, and you can see the frustration building behind his calm exterior. "You know that’s not true. I know that’s not true. Who cares what some gossip sites say?"

“I care! I’m not used to this, Tony. This isn’t my world! I didn’t ask to have my life dragged through the mud because of who I’m spending time with.”

He reaches across the table and takes your hand, his thumb rubbing gently over your knuckles. "I know this is hard. But people are always going to talk. I’ve been dealing with this for years. It sucks, but it doesn’t last forever."

You pull your hand back, frustration bubbling up. "But it’s different for you. You’ve been in the spotlight your whole life. People expect this from you. For me, it’s… humiliating. My colleagues are seeing these headlines. My family. Do you know how embarrassing it is to be called a fling? To be dismissed like I don’t matter?"

Tony exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. "I’m not dismissing you. I never would."

"It’s not about you dismissing me. It’s about everyone else thinking that’s what’s happening." You bite your lip, looking down at your coffee cup. "I just… I don’t know if I’m ready for all of this. The attention, the gossip. I wasn’t prepared for any of it."

“I can’t make the headlines go away,” Tony says softly. “But I can stand by you through them. If this is too much for you, I’ll understand. But if you want to stay, if you want to try… I’m not going anywhere."

There’s an honesty in his eyes that makes your breath catch. You can see the vulnerability there, the rawness he’s trying to share with you. Tony Stark, the man who is larger than life, standing before you and offering something real.

You take a deep breath, feeling the weight of the decision you’re about to make. "I don’t want to walk away from this, Tony. I just… I need to know that you’re in this for real. No games, no casual flings. If we’re doing this, it has to be serious."

“It is,” he says immediately, no hesitation. “I’m in this for real, Y/N. No games. No flings."

The sincerity in his voice melts some of the fear inside you. You nod slowly, your shoulders relaxing just a bit. "Okay. Then… let’s do this."

A smile spreads across his face, that familiar Stark confidence returning. "Good. Because I wasn’t planning on letting you go that easily."

You smile back, feeling some of the tension lift. For the first time in days, you feel like maybe, just maybe, this could work.

But as soon as you begin to relax, your phone vibrates again. You glance at the screen, and your stomach tightens as you see another headline flash across the notification:

"EXCLUSIVE: Sources Claim Stark’s ‘Soulmate’ is After His Fortune—Friends Warn He’s Being Played."

You feel the blood drain from your face. Tony’s brow furrows as he notices the change in your expression.

“What is it?” he asks, but before you can answer, his phone buzzes, too. He pulls it out, glancing at the screen before cursing under his breath.

“I’ll handle this,” he says quickly, anger flashing in his eyes. “This is just some idiot trying to stir up trouble. I’ll talk to the press. I’ll clear this up.”

But it doesn’t feel like it’s just gossip anymore. It feels personal, and it feels like whoever is behind this wants to tear you apart.

“Tony…” you start, your voice barely above a whisper. “What if this doesn’t stop? What if this just keeps getting worse?”

His jaw tightens, and he steps closer to you, determination hardening his gaze. “I told you, I’m not letting this come between us. Whoever’s behind this, we’ll deal with it. Together.”

Tony doesn’t waste any time. The moment he sees the new headline, he’s in action mode. His jaw clenches, and his eyes narrow with determination. He’s dealt with attacks like this before, but this time, it’s personal—and he’s not going to let someone mess with what the two of you have.

“We need to find out who’s feeding these stories to the press,” he says, already typing away on his phone. “There’s no way this is just random gossip. Someone’s deliberately trying to stir things up.”

You sit there, still shaken by the headlines, but his confidence is a bit reassuring. “How do we even start? I mean, the media… they don’t just reveal their sources, do they?”

“They don’t. But I have people. We’ll find out who’s behind this.”

Over the next few days, Tony taps into every resource he has, which, unsurprisingly, is a lot. He calls in favors from friends in the media, tech experts, and even digs into security footage from recent events you’ve attended together. The digging takes time, and while Tony handles most of the legwork, you can see the toll it’s taking on him. His usual carefree attitude fades into something more serious. He’s laser-focused on protecting you, and it makes your heart ache to see how much he’s willing to fight for you.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, Tony gets a lead.

“Got it,” he announces one night, barging into your apartment with a determined look on his face. “It’s someone on the board at Stark Industries. A guy named Victor Lanning.”

“Victor Lanning?” you ask, the name unfamiliar to you.

Tony nods, his expression darkening. “He’s been pushing for more influence within the company, and apparently, he didn’t like that I’ve been ‘distracted’ with personal matters lately. Decided to use our relationship to try and weaken me publicly. Classic power move.”

You blink, trying to process what he’s saying. “So, this was all about business? About him trying to make you look bad so he could… what? Get your job?”

Tony sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Something like that. He figured if he made me look like I wasn’t focused, the board would start questioning my leadership. And what better way to make me look distracted than to spin it like you’re using me? It’s a dirty move, but it’s not the first time someone’s tried to pull something like this.”

Your stomach churns with a mixture of anger and disgust. “All of this because I’m your soulmate? Because he thinks I’m a distraction?”

Tony steps closer, his hand finding yours. “He doesn’t matter. What matters is that we’re going to set the record straight. I’ll deal with him. But first, we need to clear your name.”

You nod, feeling a spark of hope. “What do we do?”

Tony smirks, that familiar glint of mischief back in his eyes. “We go public. Officially.”

The next morning, the press conference is set. Tony’s team works fast, organizing everything within hours. You’re nervous as you stand beside him backstage, waiting for your cue. Tony notices your fidgeting and gently takes your hand, squeezing it reassuringly.

“Hey,” he whispers, leaning in close. “You’ve got this. We’ve got this.”

You nod, feeling a little steadier with him by your side.

Finally, it’s time. The two of you walk out to the flashing lights of cameras and a sea of reporters, their voices buzzing with curiosity. Tony stands tall, confident, as always, but there's a gentleness in the way he holds your hand.

“Thank you all for coming,” Tony begins, his voice firm yet calm. “I wanted to address some recent rumors about my personal life. It’s no secret that I’ve been in the headlines recently, and a lot of the things being said are completely false. Someone from my company decided to spread lies because they didn’t like the fact that I’ve been spending time with Y/N. But the truth is, she’s the best thing that’s happened to me in a long time. And if people want to attack her to get to me, well, I’m not going to let that happen."

You glance at him, and he gives you an encouraging nod before continuing.

“But more importantly, I want to clear up something that actually matters,” Tony says, his tone softening. “The woman standing beside me, Y/N L/N, is not just some ‘fling’ or ‘arm candy.’ She’s... well, she’s my soulmate.”

A wave of murmurs spreads through the crowd, but Tony keeps going, his eyes steady on yours. “Yeah, you heard that right. We’ve got the tattoos to prove it.”

The reporters lean forward, the flashes of cameras intensifying as you and Tony raise your wrists, showing your matching tattoos. There, in plain sight, are the words that started it all. Your tattoo reads: "I wonder if she knows she has a ketchup stain on her shirt." and his reads: "Huh, he’s taller than I thought."

The room falls quiet for a moment, the weight of the reveal sinking in. Then, slowly, Tony speaks again, his voice quieter but more intimate, as if he’s speaking just to you, even though everyone can hear.

“The first time I saw her, I wasn’t thinking about business or my reputation or anything else. I was just thinking about how she had this charming, messy moment, and it made me smile. She was real. And that’s the thing: Y/N makes me feel like I can be real, too.”

Your heart swells at his words, and you can’t help but smile.

The room erupts in questions, but Tony raises a hand to quiet them down. "That’s all we wanted to say. The rumors? Ignore them. The truth? It’s right here."

He turns to you, his eyes soft, and in that moment, it feels like it’s just the two of you again. “So, are we done with the press?” he asks, the corner of his mouth twitching up in a playful grin.

You laugh, relieved, and nod. “Definitely.”

As you walk off the stage, hand in hand, you feel a weight lift off your shoulders. The truth is out there now, and it’s your truth. No more hiding, no more rumors.

Once you’re out of sight from the cameras, Tony pulls you into a gentle hug, his lips brushing against your temple. “Told you we’d get through this.”

You wrap your arms around him, feeling a sense of peace settle over you. “I know. I’m just glad it’s over.”

He pulls back slightly, his eyes locking with yours, a soft smile on his face. “It’s not over. This is just the beginning.”

And in that moment, you know he’s right. Together, you’ve faced the storm, and now, with the world finally knowing the truth, you can move forward. Together, as soulmates.

Flaws, ketchup stains, and all.

[angstdelights]

I will not rest until I see them in multiple projects together. Cast them in romcom, melodrama, psychological thriller, period romance, scifi, action, drama, noir, musical, just everything. Tension is tensioning. Chemistry is chemistrying. It must be done.

[redacted-art]

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)

[burnourwaydown]

Crawling Back To You

SUMMARY: Caitlyn and Vi are soulmates in every universe, and they get together in every timeline. Except one, where Vi died in the explosion at Jayce’s apartment. In that timeline, Cait grew up with a sense of emptiness in her heart, seeking something — someone — no longer present. Until one day, when an accident in Viktor’s laboratory sends her to another universe: a universe where a Violet lost her Cait to the very same explosion.

preview:

In this timeline, Caitlyn had always felt… hollow. As a child, she couldn’t name it—a vague ache in her chest, a longing for something she’d never known. Her life was orderly, precise, successful. But empty. The kind of emptiness that made her stare at the ceiling at night, feeling the weight of something missing, though she never knew what.

She chased danger, justice, meaning. But the ache remained.

Then, one ordinary day, Viktor’s lab exploded. No one really knew why—some Hextech malfunction, they said. But Caitlyn didn’t remember the explosion. She remembered falling. And when she opened her eyes, she wasn’t in her Piltover anymore.

This Piltover was… wrong. The skyline was familiar, yet foreign, as though someone had repainted her memories with darker shades. She wandered, unnoticed, through streets that should have felt like home but didn’t. It wasn’t until she saw a girl that Caitlyn understood.

Violet. She can remember the name.

But not the Violet she’d never saw—this one was older, more scarred, her eyes harder, as though she’d learned to live without something vital.

When Caitlyn found her, Violet froze. The disbelief in her expression twisted into something Cait couldn’t quite name—confusion and fragile, desperate hope.

“I… do we know each other?” Caitlyn asked, though her heart pounded violently, as though her body knew what her mind did not.

Vi just stared, haunted, as though seeing a ghost. Because, in her universe, she was. But she was quick to mask it with a guarded expression.

“Do we?” Vi tilted her head, backing away, as though afraid Caitlyn might vanish if she got too close. “You do seem familiar.”

And Caitlyn, for reasons she couldn’t understand, stepped forward. Because even though she didn’t remember Vi—not truly—she felt it. The pull. The ache. And now, seeing her, she knew… this was what she’d been missing. It had to be.

In every universe, they found each other.

Except this one.

But maybe… just maybe, fate was giving them another chance.

Hope you liked, cause this preview is not even close from everything I have planned for this fic. I’ll release this story on ao3 soon enough and I’ll drop the link here. xoxo

[jessydefalt97]

NOW I NEED TO SEE THE 4 BEAUTIFUL CHILDREN AND THE COTTAGE BY THE RIVER!!!

[versailles-black]

As a sucker for “in every lifetime trope” I had to do this angst quote from the movie (Everything Everywhere All at Once).

Ps. In all my play through I have never turned Sebastian in, so in my head-canon he’s a free man

😌

[my-stories-vault]

Love and War.

Pairing: Dean Winchester X Y/N Singer

Blurb: You must've read a lot of enemies-to-lovers, let me show how someone can be your lover and enemy . . .

Warnings/Trigger Warnings (18+): language, gore, major and minor character deaths, break up, major angst, surprise ending, the Supernatural Wars (TSW) spoilers.

Song Inspiration: Love and War by Fleurie.

Prompt: "Nothing is fair in love and war."

Challenge: This is a flip POV challenge but can be read as a standalone one-shot! To read this same chapter from the reader's perspective, head on over here. Original plot credits of this first chapter go to my dear friend, Hepza on Wattpad. Go and show her some love 🥰.

{ Main Masterlist }

Love and War.

The metal hit the floor, clanging in the loud silence.

'You were never good with swords,' I bragged, shrugging with my free arm. Her formal cold smirk disarmed my heart just as much as I had disarmed her of all protection.

'That's why I brought reinforcement,' she smiled with a sinister nonchalance. Her backup emerged from the tree line: Charlie with an archery set, poised in a shoot-to-kill position.

As dread and agony pushed beyond the other emotions, a futile plea pressed past my lips. 'Princess—'

'No, you don't get to call me that,' she barked with such acid that it burned my heart.

'Y/N—'

'Put your sword down,' she cut me off once again.

I vanquished the control of the weapon. Charlie kicked it out of my reach and into my lover's hands.

A lover that had turned into my enemy.

'That's it?' my voice quieter than I'd like it to be. 'You are going to throw all that we had out the window – just like that?'

I should be more raged, more bitter, I should probably be yelling at her for what she did, for what she is doing – but I can't. I can't be mad at her without knowing why she did what she did. I just love her too much.

'Oh, no,' she calmly raised her head high, her expression of stark hate – the same eyes that couldn't not hold love when they used to look at me – the same face I've woken up to for as long as I can remember, the same girl whose love has consumed my every cell to the point that I won't know how to live without her anymore.

But she seemed to have no problem turning on me.

'You already did me that favor when you decided to hunt me down for your father, Your Highness,' she snarled.

'How did we get here?'

A few days before . . .

I was in the middle of a presentation, stating a common point, when the doors to the meeting hall were rudely opened to one of the most blunt, and annoying brats I'd ever set my eyes on: Y/N Singer.

'Your Highness,' the guards addressed, looking about nervously, probably worried about their job status after this – and if I knew Bobby any well, which I did – they were probably wondering if they were gonna survive the day.

But I could honestly not care less as my eyes drew to the rugrat of the girl His Majesty Robert Singer liked to call a daughter. She was amusingly in her nightly undergarments, unafraid of the stares and the jaws she dropped as she stepped into one of the most formal meetings, amongst the most esteemed kingdoms from around.

'Bullocks,' Bobby harshly mumbled under his breath.

'Your Majesty,' one of the two guards that seemed to have been chasing the princess breathed out, 'we tried to stop the Princess, but she . . .' he trailed away, unable to find proper words, also busy panting – he probably had had to run after her.

She'd do that to you. She was one of the better warriors I had met in my life while traveling the world. She was definitely fitter than the poor bodyguards that seemed to have been assigned to keep her away.

Stopping her is like stopping a tsunami dead in its tracks – it's impossible. That's one of the reasons why I love this annoying brat.

'I got this,' Bobby groused – he didn't, but okay. 'Now go and do your damn duty.' He turned to his daughter (this is going to be fun to watch), 'Y/N, what are you doing here in your . . . ' he tried to bring a polite statement into fruition, and was failing miserably.

'My undergarments,' she supplied, unabashedly. And I had to hide my proud smirk behind my hand as all the nobles began exchanging awkward and uncomfortable looks. Some of the ladies were jealous, and some of the men resisted to check my girl out.

Not that I minded – she was indeed a sight to look at.

'Let me see,' Y/N continued, 'I woke up and the first news I received was, Your Eminence has canceled our breakfast together. So, I was wondering what made you ditch our daddy-daughter date; and here you are, canoodling with your comrades.'

Her eyes swept over the table, her gaze tainted with slight resentment, and suddenly I had to stop myself from rolling my eyes till I could see my brain.

I knew how much she cherished the time she got to spend with her father, especially after what happened to her mother – Bobby was the only family she had. And I loved that she held onto that with everything she had. But her methods sometimes were slightly . . . crass, for the lack of a delicate word. She lacked the tact she needed to get things done her way.

Sometimes it was adorable, sometimes I just hated it.

It was a little bit of both right now. Even though it was adorable: her reckless courage and her flaunted beauty – I was in the middle of speaking about, as she calls it, "the damn Dam" – one of the most important projects our countries ever took up.

'Here, put this bloody robe on,' the King huffed, extracting himself from it and draping it over his daughter's modesty.

She slapped the robe off of her, crossing her arms and humphing with one of the cutest angry pouts I'd seen her sport – okay, maybe I was over the fact that she interrupted us and now I was enjoying this a little too much.

'Not until we sort this out.'

'Gentlemen, give us the room please,' Bobby intoned in a resigned manner.

Everyone, relieved, scraped their chairs across the floor, dragging themselves away from the room when Crowley stated: 'Well, I don't mind staying for the show.'

Y/N rolled her eyes, as mine own narrowed at the bastard. I mean, same, but come on!

'Not now, Crowley,' chastised the father, then turning his elderly stern gaze towards me, a silent order written in them to shoo the people away so that none could become prying ears.

After depositing them on the other side of the door, I stood back to eavesdrop myself.

'Listen, my dear, you can't walk into a royal meeting like this and demand we have a meal together.'

'And you can't ditch me like a prom date, then have a tea party with your friends.' She paused, composing her wits into reasoning, 'Never let anyone treat you like a damsel in distress, or anything less – you taught me that, Daddy.'

I smiled at her, even though she couldn't see me, and decided it was time I let my presence be known.

'Sometimes you make me wonder – did I make a mistake raising you like a boy?' he was saying just as I pushed the door in.

'For what it's worth, Your Majesty, I find the hubris of our Princess very gallant,' I found myself saying in a formal format, a smirk playing with my lips, as Y/N shoot me a "not-funny" look.

Oh, look who's talking.

'If only her future groom would agree to that,' the King tiredly said, a small smile on his face, one that I returned with a tight one on mine.

'Now, if you are done with this jibber-jabber, Your Majesty, I would like to know how you're making up to me for my loss,' she asked with authority.

Bobby smiled down at her fondly, 'I will make it up to you tonight, Princess. Promise.'

'I'll appreciate it if you keep to it,' she said.

'Of course,' he confirmed. 'Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a bunch of Royals to threaten for their lives in case they have any ideas of leaking what happened here.'

We both chuckled, and he shot me a look over her head – a silent warning that the threat applied to me too. I simply nodded.

'Dean, do you mind escorting my idjit daughter back to her room?' Bobby raised his brow at me.

'Dad, I can—'

But I cut the gorgeous e/c-colored Princess off, 'Not at all. It would be my pleasure, Your Majesty.' And my hand quickly gripped her arm before the protests I knew were begging to be told could leave her mouth.

I could feel her orbs boring into my back as I dragged her away, but if she was going to be stubborn – so was I.

Our rapid footsteps led us to her bedroom hallway, and as soon as I knew all the eyes were off us, I swiftly bent down to put her across my shoulders like a sack of potatoes, a grin tugging on my face as she squealed in surprise – her reaction the only reason why I did it in the first place. She was too nauseatingly cute when she was taken off guard.

'Put me down, Winchester!'

There were no signs of compliance until after we were inside her bedroom where I let her to her feet gently, speaking soon as our eyes met.

'Really?' I wondered incredulously, 'Ambushing a royal meeting by waltzing in your undergarments – you got some nerve, Princess.' I teased, the title meaning more than just that within the safe confines of her room.

It was the term that I used to refer to the fact that she had me wrapped around her little finger like the Princess she was. And I love her to bits for everything she is.

God, I'm screwed.

'I am a Singer, my love,' she goaded. 'It is in the blood.'

Fair enough.

I took her hand to twirl her around, letting her fingers go from mine so that she stumbled towards her wardrobe. 'Now get dressed,' I commanded in that voice she said did things to her.

She sifted through her clothes landing on one of the familiar morning gowns.

'No, not that,' I chided, 'you wear that too often.'

My eyes shifted to the mirror on the side; I started to fix my hair which seemed to have lost its lusture like I had lost my will to live after that goddamn meeting – sure, it was important, but dammit, if it didn't make me want to kill myself out of boredom.

'Fine,' she grumbled, putting it back for an alternative choice. 'How 'bout this?'

I glanced over, grinning for she had brought up another number she looked mighty fine in. 'Yellow suits you, sweetheart.'

She nodded before staring at me – a look that I took too long to realize than I'd like to admit – was ordering me to turn for some privacy. But then, perhaps, I wanted to ignore that look. But she refused to budge.

Oh, come on! I thought to myself, 'What, it's nothing I haven't seen before.'

She kept staring at me dryly till I gave up.

'Alright, alright!' I sighed internally, surrendering as I turned to instead gaze at the door. So much for that.

Anyways . . . 'So, daddy-daughter date. Really?' It wasn't the fact that she liked to do it, it was the fact that she actually chose to utter these words. If that didn't deserve a face, I don't know what did.

'Hey, it's a work in progress,' she protested, shuffling her limbs to get changed.

I scoffed, shaking my head, once again realizing how annoying she had been before, well. 'How I fell for you, escapes me, Princess. You are—'

'Enticing,' she suggested, with a smile in her tone.

I felt her tap on my shoulder. I turned to her, a smile on my face, as a chuckle left me. 'That's not the word I was looking for, but I won't complain,' I teased.

'Quit flirting and help me with this, De,' she reprimanded, turning about to display her unlaced corset.

My fingers pulled at the strings, but the smile never left me. 'Is it enough?'

'A little bit tighter,' she requested. I heeded. She said, 'So, how is the Dam Construction project?'

'Kicking our asses,' I murmured, working on tying off the loose ends.

'Yeah, I barely saw my father during the last couple of months, and of course, you . . . I feel like I forgot your face,' her tone is sad.

And I feel bad.

She is right. We'd had barely gotten time to ourselves these last few months and all because of this stupid project. Well, not stupid – but still. The disagreements just keep on piling and I just want is to get this over with – probably one of the reasons why I've been pushing to dedicate more of my time to this instead of other things.

For now, though, I'll settle for some humor. 'What are you talking about?' I try to sound playfully offended. 'You could never forget a face like mine.'

She ignored my clear self-appreciation, 'However, I do appreciate what you guys do.'

'Yeah, it's gonna help a lot of people. The river can replenish many monarchies. Kids don't have to walk miles to get water if this project is finished,' I end with a deep sigh. I really want this to work – helping people is what I'm passionate about, but the lack of enthusiasm my stick-in-the-ass colleagues share has been grating on my nerves.

'When you finish it,' she corrected me softly.

'Only if it's as easy as it sounds,' I complained.

'My love, you people are constructing a historical monument that is going to gather a primary waterfront and spread it across to regions that don't have access to it. It is obvious it is hard.'

'Not just the labor, sweetheart, some of the Kings are rebelling at the last minute: not to share water with the half-breed domains,' I huffed, now helping her with the gown.

'Some of them as in . . . '

'Gordon,' I finished for her, adjusting the wrinkles on her dress for her.

'Bingo,' she said as if she'd had that pegged.

She handed me the necklace I gifted her after I was done. It was my one-year anniversary present to her, and I loved that there wasn't a day that went by without it around her neck. I gathered her hair with one hand, brushed it away to the side, and then dangled the jewelry around her neck – the symbol of our secret relationship.

'You were never a fan of him,' I noted, clicking the lobster lock in place.

'He is a prick, Dean,' she ranted, 'No one should be a fan of him. He is self-obsessed and despises the small sub-kingdoms – top of it all, I don't like the way he sees me.'

A smile twitched on my lips as she turned.

'What?'

'You're so beautiful when you're angry,' I admitted, 'I couldn't get my eyes off you this morning.'

It was true – how could I look away when her eyes gleamed with the fight that inspires me to never give up?

'Shut up,' she blushed. She distracted herself by walking to the mirror to redress her hair for the day.

That's when I noticed it, 'You're wearing your Leaflet Crown?'

'Yes. Why do you ask?'

'You only wear this when you're going on hunts,' I managed as dismay clawed up its way into my consciousness, 'and last time I checked, your father forbade anyone from going into the dark forest.'

I know it was petty to bring up her father's warning in our conversations. But it wasn't like I could forbid her from doing something. She was a stubborn woman who got what she set her heart to. For the love of God, though, for once, I just wished she'd listen to Bobby or me. I worry, and I don't know how long before my worries turn into my day-mares.

'Oh, that,' she seemed not to notice my inner discord.

'Care to explain,' I pressed, picking up the Crown from her head.

'I was going to meet Charlie,' she assured, 'that's all, my love.'

'Ah, right,' I realized, 'Charollete, your Chief Musketeer. Her and her troop have been really helpful to us on the guarding duty at night. She's wonderful,' I end on the admission.

'I know,' she childishly booped my nose, making me smile again. She replaced the crown then marched off to the shoe rack, selecting one that matched.

Before she could slip them on, I plucked them out of her grasp. 'Here – let me.'

'Your wish is my command, My Prince Charming,' she teased, moving away nevertheless to plop down on her bed.

I would mind, but I'd honestly take any chance I'd get to touch her. I was so starved for her touch, practically a man in a desert. And I swear it'd kill me if she were a mirage.

I dipped down at her feet, taking her heels on my knees as I slipped the first shoe on her, and she initiated another conversation.

'How is Sam?'

'Sammy is happy, actually,' I said as if it was as much news to me as was to her. 'Away from all the castle drama – he got his gal, his hair is as long as ever – so, he's as good as he can ever be.'

'Same ol' Sam, huh?'

'Yeah, I would be lying if I didn't envy his guts to stand up to my father and give away his title for Jessica.'

'I fell for the wrong brother then,' she playfully offered.

'I don't know, Princess,' I smirked, taking the other shoe to her free leg. 'The shoe fits,' I winked, as her foot perfectly slid in.

She bit her lip to suppress the grin I knew was begging to burst on her face. Then, slowly, the corners of her lips turned down as she switched topics once more.

'Why did we decide to keep it a secret again?' she quirked her brow.

The unexpected turn made my face fall. I had an answer that I'd rather not give. But it wasn't one that she hadn't heard before. Something she gave me proof of, 'Oh, right. Your Dad.'

'He'd rather marry me off to the Harvells,' I declared.

'Wait, Joanna?'

I nodded.

'Wow,' she huffed, 'your Dad is shaking up the wrong tree on so many levels. Charlie is gonna be thrilled to hear this.'

Her undertone shocked me, 'Wait, Charlie and Jo?'

'Mhhmhmmmm,' she wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

'Wow,' I was taken aback. Who knew Jo was gay?

With that, Y/N reverted back to her original point. 'I don't get it, Dean. What doesn't he see in me?'

Her defeated look hurt.

I climbed up next to her on the bed, facing her as my hands took up residence on both her cheeks and she leaned into them on reflex. 'It's not you, sweetheart. It's just—'

'The fact that we're not hunters, but scholars – I get it, love,' she brushed me off, scoffing, and pulling away from my touch as if it had burnt her. She put as much space as she could between us while still staying in the room.

I knew how frustrated she was getting by my defenses. At first, she'd hesitantly give in, and shrug the disappointment off, but as our relationship grew, she expected more. She had never expected this to be a secret for so long.

I hated that I couldn't give her my everything, I hated how much of a coward I was.

I should have called quits on this relationship long back – given that I couldn't provide her with what she wanted. She was everything that I could want – and yet, I barely had anything to offer to her. She deserves the world, and here I am, in fear of losing her, I held her back from everything that she could have.

And hell, if I wasn't going to try my hardest to keep her in my life, still. I honestly don't know what she saw me, but until she was going to have me, I was going to try my best to have her too.

I reached for her, gripping her by the arm and yanking her back till she was spinning on her heels and clashing against my chest, her hand twisted against her back to allow me leverage to hold her against myself with as little space as I could manage. I searched her face for any signs that this was the moment that she gave up on me.

Finding none, I finally spoke. 'You are it for me, Y/N.' Her eyes closed as a blush rose to her cheeks, ears, and neck, her head lowering as she basked in my commitment. 'You are my happy ending and always will be,' he whispered into her hair as my free hand came up to trace nonsense patterns against her cheek. An involuntary smile kicked my lips upwards as I could feel the honesty behind those words thrumming in every fiber of my body.

I waited for her to look at me again, using the opportunity of when she did to dip down and capture her lips prisoner against mine.

We both melted into the intimacy as I stole the breath from her lungs for as long as I could, feeling my heart accelerate, knowing that I could never want anything more than this, right here.

When the need for oxygen overpowered us, I let her lips go, not failing to hold her gaze in the promise of my words.

'I hate it when you shut me up like that,' she said half-heartedly.

I called her bluff with a cheeky smile, 'No, you don't.'

She shook her head with a smile she couldn't control herself.

'Mmm,' I grunt in discontent freeing her from my arms. 'I must go,' I sighed, 'because if I stay, we might not leave the room till moonrise. Don't wanna give your father and the committee any funny ideas,' I joked.

She shook her head in agreement once again.

I pressed a chaste kiss on her forehead one last time. 'Stay out of trouble,' I cautioned, as I walked backward towards the only exit of the room.

'No promises,' she smirked.

I rolled my eyes, God, this girl is gonna be the death of me.

The meeting ended and left me worse for wear. I antagonize everyone in the meeting for their role in irritating me, as I move to the stables to leave for the examination of the constructions being conducted for the damn Dam. Not to mention I was running low on men because the ones assigned by Bobby were late. By two hours.

It honestly pissed me off, but then I decided to simply screw it and take the men that I did have with me to gauge the progress of the work.

My soldiers flanked me on their horses as I lead the team down the winded roads and towards the riverside we were trying to stem and reap for our benefits when I received the message.

It was a fraction of musketeers under King Robert that had been assigned to me for guard duty returning from their camp where apparently the Princess had been safely taken to after the unexpected attack on her in the Black forest.

Safe to say, no longer did work matter as I quickly dismissed everyone, and hauled ass to the Camp following the piece of soldiers who retraced their steps to their tents.

They guided me down the beaten paths through the trees, rushing against the wind under my agitated orders to make haste.

As soon as the treeline cleared, the daylight blinded me as we spilled into the clearing. As my eyes were getting accustomed to the light, my glance swept over the place where all the clattering and clamoring of moving and training soldiers seemed rather unaffected by today's ordeals – a fact that estranged me considering I was about ready to burst from fear.

The team took my horse and one of the guys led me to the tent that housed the love of my life.

'In here, Prince Dean,' he saluted, leaving me alone.

I had started screaming even before I had entered, 'What were you thinking?!'

'De—' she jumped up to sit, her eyes widening at my outburst.

'I particularly told you not to go into the forest or anywhere near it!' I yelled, feeling rage eat me up, thinking of the thousands of possibilities of what could have gone wrong – of what could have happened.

She could have been dead. Dead!

'Is this some kind of joke to you!?' I exclaimed, my body running so hot that I could have a fever, my chest heaving under the relentless stream of anger that had built up in my heart, and the lump in my throat threatened to choke me. 'You could've died!' I shouted, feeling tears prick the back of my eyes.

I kept on venting and she took it silently, watching me, 'You just never listen to me! You have this incessant need to be brave, to do it all by yourself, to-to be a freaking warrior! Well, guess what? You're life just isn't yours! It's mine, too, alright?! You're my life, and if something happened to you, I-I-I . . . I won't . . .'

I looked up to see her staring at me with guilt glazing her eyes. I doubt she was even hearing what I said.

'Say something!' I snapped at her.

She flinched out of her thoughts, shock, and fear marring her breath-taking features. And I felt that my anger was unjustified toward her. I took a deep breath, composing myself as I let my rage flare out of my nostrils, paving the way for the overwhelming fear I had felt on my way over when my mind had been reeling with thoughts of desperation over losing her and the pain that would follow.

All I know is that I never want to feel that again.

So, I kneel in front of her.

As scary as it is to love someone as much as I love her, I need to calm myself and be there for her.

'I'm sorry,' my gruff voice told her. My apology was supported by my hands as they went to her knees, rubbing circles there and my gaze lowered to anywhere but her face – my head heavy with shame and guilt of having exploded on her.

'Me too,' she apologized, her hand going forward, probably unconsciously as she started stroking my hair. 'I should've been careful,' she muttered.

The pressure in the room melted off, leaving the reality of the situation to settle heavily over me. My shoulders slumped under their weight, 'I just . . . I don't know what I would do if anything happened to you,' I voiced my biggest fear.

There. It was out in the open.

It was as simple as birds chirping and insects buzzing – I'd lose it; I'd lose myself if I lost her.

Everything that I did, that I'm doing, and that I will do – that was for her. I did it knowing that when I was done, I'd be going back home to her. To the promise of a love that consumed me, that made me the happiest guy in the world, to the woman of my dreams, and to the keeper of my heart. I'd be destroyed without her, and that was nothing short of a fact.

And that thought petrified me – chilled me to my very bones.

I've never had to think much about it before. She's been reckless but never came been this close to death. She's been hurt – but this was much worse.

She's been with me for as long as I could remember – we were kids when we were friends, and ever since it only blossomed into more. So much so, that I could never again imagine my life, my future, without Y/N in it.

She let my head go, and grabbed my hand from her lap, squeezing it tightly. 'Dean, I'm here.'

The hot lump that had accumulated in my heart thawed, letting the sweet grasp of relief grip me. I took a deep breath cherishing her hand on mine.

I swallowed, pushing my tears back – unwilling to let them make an appearance. 'And I couldn't be more grateful for that fact. Don't ever scare me like that again,' I gritted out, looking up just in time to see her nodding.

That's when I noticed the injury above her eyebrow, on her forehead.

'What happened here?' My hand instinctively raised to its level, my thumb levitating above the wound – one that'd surely leave a mark, one that was temporarily covered with herbs that imposed medicinal properties and benefits.

'The stupid Phantoms,' she blurted.

My heart lurched in shock, and a tendril of fear fizzled down my spine.

'Phantoms?' I quizzed, eyes wide.

She rushed to explain, 'Yeah, I rode the outer banks to reach here soon. I swear, I didn't even cross the border or step foot into the forest! Yet, they attacked us. Poor Phillip took most of the hit . . . Do you know the fire-forged sword didn't do a darn tooting to them—?' she cut herself off, waiting for my reaction – perhaps expecting another outburst.

But I was out of those, and tired – we both had had a long day – so, I tried to lighten the atmosphere. 'You were never good with the swords,' I decided.

She relaxed before delivering a playful punch to my shoulder.

I breathed out, 'Thank God Charlie and her men made it on time.' I made a mental note to send her a fruit basket for saving my life.

'Yeah . . . I . . . Yeah . . . ' she cleared her throat, firing a question at me. 'How did you get here so fast?'

'I was already on my way to examine the constructions at the Dam when they informed me there had been an assault on the Princess – I lost it,' I licked my lips, shaking my head. 'I couldn't stay there for a minute,' or I would have suffocated, 'I left there and rushed here,' to find my breath, I completed in my mind.

It dawned on her, 'Wait, does that mean—?'

'No,' I replied, already knowing where her mind went, 'your father doesn't know. I specifically ordered the men involved in the construction and Charlie's troop not to tell. If they break it, they know the consequences.'

'My hero,' she mocked, placing a hand over her heart.

But I didn't have it in me to smile.

My thoughts wandered off as I bathed in her presence, consoling myself constantly that she was right here in front of me.

'I would be lost without you, Princess,' I revealed, without even realizing that I was speaking it. I looked up into her e/c orbs, waiting for her to say something.

'Dean, I'm here,' she repeated. 'Am not going anywhere, and I'll always come back to you,' she traced a hand over the shadow that had grown on my cheeks.

I leaned into her hand, a sigh involuntarily escaping me. 'I love you,' I confessed.

'I love you, too, My Prince,' she conveyed.

The admission made my lips stretch into a huge smile – the kind which starts to hurt your cheeks, and one that the woman I loved mirrored.

You would think that we must have said it pretty often but being Royals and all, saying it out loud was not a constant courtesy everyone was awarded with. It was freeing to finally be able to say it again. And it was equally as exhilarating, if not more, to hear her say it back.

She leaned down to press her lips against mine, our eyes fluttering shut as the intimacy of our words spread to our actions – a kiss that was slow, passionate, and full of happy promises. If love were an action to me, I'd describe it with this one kiss.

And if it were up to me, I'd never let her go.

But the tent was barged into and our moment was disrupted.

'Oh, sorry!' Charlie exclaimed, looking as flustered as I was probably feeling.

Red painted my cheeks and neck and slightly tinted my ears, as I struggled for a reasonable explanation to the Chief Musketeer who could potentially ruin my chance to be with Y/N.

'Dude, if the tent is rocking, don't come knocking,' Y/N reprimanded.

And once again, I was reminded of her reckless and straightforward personality.

'I'll . . . I'll come back later. You carry on, then.'

I jumped to the rescue, 'Oh, no. No. There is nothing to carry on. I was just . . . uh, I was helping Princess Y/N to practice breathing exercises.' I dumbly answered.

God, never let me be a spy.

'Huh,' Charlie nodded, biting her lip to keep away her smile at the blatant lie – something she won't point out simply out of respect for the Royal.

'My love, she knows,' the h/c-haired woman broke to me, barely able to suppress her own glee and amusement at my pathetic attempt to keep our secret hidden.

'She—what? You know?' I quizzed.

'Yup,' she gave me a mischievous grin. 'Who do you think gave her the suggestion to wear sexy lingeries to your little rendezvous.'

Well, that was information. Incriminating one, at that.

Y/N was the one blushing now, 'Okay, shoo, get out of my tent, Commander, I think you have pressing matters on hand.'

Charlie lingered, 'I have more embarrassing stories, My Liege – if you're interested – you know where to find me.' And she fled before my love could utter another word to save herself from any further embarrassment.

I had my up-to-no-good smile in place as Y/N looked down at me, already glaring. 'Don't even think about it,' she terrorized.

And I burst into peals of laughter – the full-body shake kind. I was having too much fun imagining what all I could find out about her.

'Okay, sweetheart,' I said in a final tone, 'I have to go check on something, too. You take good rest, alright? I'll come to check on you once I'm finished,' I promised.

'Till then,' she dramatically leaned back against the armrest of the couch she'd been lounging on, 'I'll be here,' she put her arm over her face, performing more theatrics, 'waiting.'

God, I'm in love with a dork. An annoying, reckless, kind, passionate, stubborn dork who's now the reason I live.

I shook my head, retracing my steps out of the place before my breath hitched and I just knew I had to do this – I retrieved my steps just so that I could scoop her curious and confused self into my arms and kiss the daylights out of her.

I kissed her senseless, I kissed her like there was no tomorrow, I kissed her with everything that I had, with every cell that loved her, and every thought that worshiped her.

When I pulled away, it was safe to say we were both dazed.

I smirked softly, winking at her, before at last, I made my exit.

True to my word, I ended my work as quickly as I could manage; I needed to see her. I headed back towards the palace - arranging a small care package to the best of my abilities before discovering Juliet and sending her on a mission - to find Y/N and deliver her to me.

The note attached was sober: Meet me at our place.

It was this blossom tree near the small creek. Almost as gorgeous as the woman who was going to meet there.

Hearing her feet approaching I got down from the tree I was waiting in, silently, wondering if she would notice me before I snuck up on her.

She didn't fail me, spinning on the balls of her feet, the arrow already notched with a fatal aim.

My lips tugged heavenward as I offered the white roses I carried in one hand, forgetting momentarily what I'd called her for. 'I come in peace. I gather Juliet delivered my message with success.'

'She's feisty to everyone else,' she mused. 'How you enticed her eludes me.'

I smirked, feeling my chest swell with pride, when: 'Kneel.'

I was on the ground before my mind could even process the command. My knees buckled at just the smile of this woman, I could give my life if she asked for it - surrendering to her was too small in comparison.

'Surrendering so soon, My Liege?' she mocked, drunk on power.

'I will always kneel for my Queen,' I loyally commented, making a cute laugh bubble out of her, a hot blush rendering her ears and neck red.

She lowered her weapon, and we reshuffled our positions into a more comfortable stance where we could sit under the tree, arms wrapped around each other.

The blossom leaves broke from their home to cherish the love we held, fingers entangling and detangling, the moon reflecting its eternal shine into the water beyond us, its lustrous shadow shimmering and thrumming with endless possibilities.

'I didn't find you in an occupied moment, did I?'

'Nah,' she casually denied. 'I was scaring away another noble my father brought in to meet with me.'

My chest tightened with anxiety before relaxing again. 'Just the usual then,' I tried to joke.

My mood turned pensive as I plucked one of the leaves from the ground. 'Do you remember the day we found this place?'

'Of course I do! How could I forget? We tried to climb up the tree, and I got this,' she rolled up her sleeve to flaunt the scar on her right elbow.

'We were so young and carefree,' I muttered. 'Good old times.'

'De . . . What is it?' she picked up on the shift.

'My Dad wants me to marry Jo,' I blurted out quietly. 'He's planned this whole engagement ceremony to announce it to the citizens tonight.'

'What?' A pause, 'What did you say!?'

'What did you want me to say Y/N?' I deflected.

'I don't know,' she said. 'Something between - "No, I don't want to marry Joanna", or "I am in love with the daughter of King Robert"?!'

'It's not that easy!' I suddenly got defensive.

She scoffed, 'Nothing was easy for us, ever, Dean.'

I shook my head, feeling the weight of the conversation slumping my shoulders - an action she subconsciously mirrored as the reality of the situation kicked in.

'We should tell them!' she exclaimed in desperation. 'Both of our fathers.'

'I can't!'

'What do you mean "you can't"?!'

'You know,' I struggled to gain a footing in this argument. 'I can't do that!'

'Why?' She ranted, 'Because we are from two entirely different nations who just depend on each other? Is it because we are not hunters? You, of all people, know that your kingdom cannot survive without our lore knowledge! You need our expertise as much as we need your men! That is the deal.'

'I know very well about the deal, Y/N,' I snapped. 'That is not the problem!'

'Now what,' she shoved me back in an accusatory tone, 'your father wants our resources and not the Princess!?'

'He wants to unite Harvelle's nation with ours,' I reasoned, 'It would be a resourceful arrangement for all our kingdoms.' But even as I said it, I felt my throat close up, my eyes prick, and my heart crumble a little in the agony under the light of the prison sentence I was putting on myself.

'You can't be serious,' she argued. 'You're honestly considering this offer!?'

'I am not! As a matter of fact, I have no idea what to do!' I breathed out, worried that if I didn't rush this confession, I'd break.

'Let's elope!'

I don't think I heard her correctly. 'What?'

'You heard me,' she confirmed.

'Are you out of your bloody mind?' I glared down at her - finally noticing that we two had stood up unknowingly, trying to win an argument by physical intimidation - a natural reflex.

'I am not the one thinking about marrying another girl,' her gruff voice threw the acid words in my face, betrayal and hurt making her tone shake.

'I can't,' I clenched out, ignoring the last statement because if I thought about it for even one second, I wouldn't be able to do this.

'You can't, or you won't?' she challenged.

'I won't,' I rose up to the bait. 'I am not going to disobey the King's commands.'

'For the love of everything on earth, Winchester - you're not just his perfect soldier!' she screamed with venom.

'I am neither a love-struck teen,' I yelled back. 'I am a Prince. I pledged to put my country and my people before my own desires.'

'And I didn't?'

'You wouldn't be talking about eloping if you cared for your people! Your Father should've knocked some sense into you instead of pampering you,' I gripped.

'And John is what, Father of the Year? He handed you a Silversword and told you to scare away the wolves you were mortified of when you ran to him for shelter!' she emotionally wagered in my face.

'He was teaching me to fight back,' I offered.

'You were eight years old, Dean,' she pointed out as if that was supposed to make me change my answer.

Anger ran white hot in my veins, making all logic rush out along with the steam coming out of my ears. 'At least he is not like Bobby!' I glared, frustration oozing out of me in waves. 'Do you know he was the reason behind the delay of the Dam Construction? He wanted to include all the small towns so no one could be left out, all half-breeds and special kinds included. It took me a month to convince all the other Nobles - and now the raw materials are exhausted! That's why we need the help of Harvelles'. If not for his soft-ass nature, we wouldn't be in this mess—!' I blamed.

My words took a hit when the sting of a slap echoed on my face. My head had turned with the force of it, but when I righted my gaze onto her - she was furious, and I was hurt by her action.

A profound silence descended, the water of the creek gently waving, coddling our tensions that kept on increasing with the increase in the misunderstandings we were spectacularly failing to resolve.

I looked at her as if she were a stranger, shocked that she would hit me. I never thought in a million years that she would hit me.

That's when I knew I had gone too far.

My hand was already inching towards the warmth on my left cheek - probably leaving a bruise in the shape of her palm there. 'Y/N . . . ?'

'Don't,' she raised her hand as if to physically stop me from speaking. She was recomposed in her demeanor. 'Seems like you've already made your mind, Your Highness. I have nothing else to say. Marry any girl your Father shoves his finger at, and be his little puppet. But don't you dare talk about my Father like that,' she ended, punctuating by abruptly and promptly exiting.

What had I done?

The engagement ceremony dragged on. My royal attire felt heavy against my bodice - like if all the weight of my emotions were cut into cloth, this is how it would feel.

Jo was nodding and smiling politely at the people coming up to congratulate us - a tightness around her eyes from stopping herself from crying.

And ironically, she was the only person here who probably understood me.

This felt wrong, and I wanted to cry.

Jo's hand was wrapped with mine, but we both were tense under each other's touch - that's not how love should feel.

Love is when you could feel all your worries evaporate as soon as you just see the other person enter a room. Love is when you feel like the happiest human alive to just feel them love you back. Love is when you feel invincible if they support you. Love is what breaks you when they leave you.

Love is Y/N.

And I just seemed to have lost her.

I blink my eyes rapidly even though there's no water to blink back. I don't cry very often, and today I really feel like I want to.

'Oh, honey, congratulations!' another royal smiled sweetly.

I nodded, barely returning a ghost of the same smile.

'When's the date?'

'As . . . soon as we can marry,' I gulped. 'King John doesn't want to waste any time.'

'That's lovely!' she cheered.

Jo cleared her throat, her eyes rimmed red, voice thick. 'Can't wait.'

'You two are so lucky to have each other. Your love is like no other,' she boasted.

'Thank you,' we both said in unison, mirroring the fake gratefulness, our shoulders slouching as soon as she left.

'I can't take this anymore,' Jo murmured. 'My Liege, can we take a walk?'

'Uh, yes, of course. Princess,' I add in courtesy, hating that I have to call her that.

Joanna dragged me away from the dull and pretentious party, functioning only because of the open bar, teeming with equally jealous and hateful nobles.

She took me to the serenity of the garden where the plants, closer to the dead than living, still seemed to understand better the need for calmness we both desired and shared.

Down, ways away from the dying function, nearing a pond, my mind wandered off to what I had just given up. The water, always soothing, now a staunch reminder of my greatest woe.

'Are we screwed or what?!' she burst out, derailing my train of thoughts.

That's when I noticed Jo was crying, silent tears descending down her rosy-with-anger red cheeks.

'Jo . . . ' I trailed off, failing to find words that would ease her.

Because nothing would. Neither of our happiness was gonna survive this marriage and that was a fact.

She sniffed. 'Charlie never wants to see my face. She told me it was too hard, that I don't know what it feels like to date a Royal. Well, she doesn't know what it feels like to be a Royal!'

I scoffed involuntarily, 'Oh, trust me, a Royal won't understand this either.'

She met my agitated gaze, 'Y/N freaked?'

I wasn't even surprised that she knew - Charlie must have told her. Charlie can't keep secrets when it's with people she loves.

My hand raised instinctively to my previously slapped cheek. 'Something like that,' I dropped my hand.

'What are we going to do, Dean?' she sobbed, 'I don't like you! Hell - I don't even like boys! I love Charlie, Dean, I love her, and I can't live without her.'

'I don't know,' I repeated from earlier that evening.

'What do you mean, "You don't know"?!' she started pacing. 'This isn't right! Our parents are forcing us—!'

'No one's forcing me,' I cut her off.

'Fine! But you can't tell me you're happy with this marriage. I mean, don't you love Y/N? I've seen how you look at her, how you treat her, how you talk about her when she's not there - she was your first!'

The pinch in my chest tightened. 'Sometimes you have to sacrifice—'

'For who? Our selfish parents!?'

'Jo!'

'No! Dean, our parents got what they wanted! They married for love!'

'And look how that ended,' I raised my tone to match hers. 'My Mom and your Dad are gone - they're dead! Leaving our parents to exist as shells!'

'They died in accidents, but you want us killed. This marriage will kill us, Dean; it will kill me!'

'Apparently,' a third voice interrupted. 'It will kill King John, too.'

We turned to Castiel holding up a bloody arrow, the crimson making me dread the answer to whose life it took - but what made my breath hitch was that the arrow was decorated with a Phoenix feather.

'Prince Dean,' he addressed. 'It seems your lover has declared a war against us.'

No, no, no! This cannot be happening. That's impossible, absolutely not. No!

Things went to the crapper hella quickly.

My mind raced as I tried to swallow that in the last twenty-four hours I had almost lost the love of my life before I broke up our years of relationship, gotten engaged with a lesbian, and almost had my father murdered by who everyone assumed was the woman I loved (forgive me if I didn't want to jump to conclusions), leading to our advisors issuing an order to enslave her by my hands - there was even a bounty and everything.

Our soldiers have been fighting with one of our closest allies come dawn - the only reason why they received the news they did: My mentor, my Uncle - Bobby was dead. That's what our soldiers told us.

What even is this?

As we rode the horses through the forbidden forest, I couldn't help but feel the pit in my stomach grow. Something was wrong, and by God I swear, if something happened to Y/N . . .

She was the only one unsafe right now. Dad and Sammy had been granted protection, but she was out there, alone, no doubt being hunted by whoever killed her Father and I was not losing two of the few people I cared the most about in one night.

On our way, I lost the assistance of Benny and Cas - separated, the former by the soldiers of the Singers, and the latter by the devils of the forest. I rode alone towards the location the Princess was last seen at - and jackpot!

Her sword was out and swinging before I could demand her attention, my reflexes making me move on my own, and soon our weapons were clanging - then, sooner, I had disarmed her.

Her sword clanged against the half-cut tree stump. 'Should've stuck with archery,' I taunted, the tip of my sword levelling with the heart that once belonged to me.

She raised her hands in surrender - but I couldn't tell if she was playing along or actually being sincere. 'Come home with me,' I said before I could stop the words from toppling out.

'Home?' she spat out. 'Mine is burnt to the ground in flames, love. There is no way home anymore!'

'Come with me,' I offered. 'To our country. I'll talk to Father—'

'You mean as a slave?' she challenged.

My mouth dropped slightly, the words dying in my mouth, unsure myself as to how that would work. I wondered why I would even say something like that to her - her arrow was found in my father's chest. What more could I need than that to acquit her?

But deep down, I knew this couldn't be it. She loved her father, she knew what it meant to be devoted to the last parent you had. How could she even do that?

And obviously, the attack on the Singer Palace was not her. What was the story behind that? Something was going on, and we needed to figure this out - together, whether we wanted to or not.

'What, cat got your tongue?' she quipped.

'I don't see the way around, sweetheart,' I informed. 'You are unarmed, and even if I let you battle me, I don't think it is gonna do you any good – you were never good with swords.'

'Yeah,' she shrugged smugly, 'that's why I brought reinforcements.' Her gaze flicked to the side to reveal Charlie with an archery set, a Phoenix arrow pinning me as its target.

I was so preoccupied on getting things straight with Y/N, I didn't even notice her lurking in the shadows. 'Not gonna lie,' I said, 'I'm impressed, sweetheart. You did get me.'

'Drop your weapon, My Liege, or I'll need to run an arrow into your leg,' warned Charlie.

'I would do what she says; as you know, she's a woman of her word.'

Unwilling to heed just yet, my eyes darted to my peripheries – wondering if my soldiers would ever show up.

As if reading my mind, 'Oh, don't worry,' Charlie snarled, 'they aren't gonna join us, Your Highness, your Knight Benjamin, and other soldiers have been taken care of by none other than our Captain of the Royal Guards.'

Captain Garth Fitzgerald, I thought in annoyance.

'Come on,' I stalled. 'A fight between my vampire knight and your werewolf bishop? Somehow I feel bad I have to miss it.'

'Kneel,' My Queen's order interrupted us.

And every rational thought flew out of my mind as I threw the towel in. My sword clattered out of my hand and the ground dug into my skin as I looked up at Y/N, surrender encompassing my every fiber when I looked at her regally towering over me.

Somehow, I always knew she would be the death of me – but what's more, is that she's that one person who made me feel most alive.

Charlie kicked my sword for her to grab.

I smirked, 'Come on, sweetheart,' I goaded. 'You aren't gonna hurt me – we both know that.'

Just to prove a point she slashed the metal across my left arm, crimson seeped out of the horizontal, somewhat deep, wound, making me hiss.

But it shouldn't sting as much as it did, right?

'I would reconsider that theory.'

She's bluffing. 'Princess—'

'NO! You don't get to call me that. That is allocated for the people I love.'

And Charlie might as well have shot the arrow into my heart. Unwillingly, my eyes welled up with hurt.

How could she even say that?

'That's it?!' I gritted out, practically shouting. Pants began to slowly heave my chest in strain, 'You're going to throw all we had out the window just like that?'

'Oh, no, you already did me that favor when you decided to hunt me down for your Father, Your Highness,' she made sure to highlight the emotional distance we had nurtured in just the last day with the formality and venom sugar-coating her every word in an acidic way that was meant to burn me from the inside out.

'That isn't fair,' I said in a low voice, close to a whisper, pissed off that she was lecturing me about how she doesn't love me anymore just because I'm hunting her down.

She tried to kill my father for God's sake! . . . I think.

A fog seemed to be collecting in my mind, stopping me from thinking straight.

But either way, was her love for me so fickle and weak?

'Nothing is fair in love and war, My Prince.'

'How did we get here?' I muttered, already exhausted.

'You killed my father, Dean,' she explained.

My head snapped up in shock. 'What!?' I spluttered. 'Are you insane? Y/N . . . where did you get that from?'

'You burned the man who practically raised from ashes,' she cried out, her eyes wild with grief.

'Y/N, I didn't kill King Robert!' Sweat beaded my forehead, and I felt my heart accelerated its beating.

'Then what was your locket doing there?' she brandished my amulet as proof . . . the amulet that when I'd gotten out of shower earlier, yesterday in the evening, had been missing.

I had thought I had misplaced it and would've searched for it later since I was getting late for my own engagement ceremony. A locket that made her think that I had the blood of her father on my hands.

I struggled to speak, 'I . . . uh . . . .'

'You never go anywhere without this,' she claimed, 'tell me where you were last night!'

I couldn't believe my ears, feeling a part of me shatter. 'You think that less of me?'

'That didn't answer my question.'

'Fine,' I felt my throat close up, 'yesterday, there was an assault on the King at the ceremony. I was busy finding the assaulter and putting them to rot in jail. Turns out, it was the woman whom I dreamt of spending the rest of my life with.'

'What?' she stepped back in the exclamation. 'That is crazy – I was at the camp with Charlie. Mopping in heartbreak because of you.'

'In the entirety of the seven regions – you are the only one who uses the Phoenix feathered arrows,' I told her, feeling black dots dancing in front of my eyes as a throbbing pain between my ears made me aware of the unnaturally strong headache.

'Dean, I didn't try to kill John . . . ?' it sounded more like a question than a statement.

'That'd explain the bounty on your head, Princess,' Charlie pitched in – helpful for once. 'Connect the dots – it's like the worst murder mystery cliché ever; someone's trying to turn both of you on each other.'

Of course, I realized. My body slightly swayed and trembled on my buckled knees. Something is seriously wrong.

'But the real question is who could do that—' Charlie's throat was slit in the middle of her speech. Her eyes were dead and closed before her body hit the ground in the pool of her own blood.

'Charlie!' I heard myself scream along with Y/N.

The voices were getting farther away from me, somehow. My limbs thrummed with heat as if my muscles and organs were liquefying in one big pile of goo, yet it felt like I was being weighed down under tons of lead.

'She's too smart for her own good,' a hated familiar voice answered, 'and to answer her question – that would be on me.' His troops littered the area behind, guarding the Alpha male I would like to do nothing more than gut.

'Gordon, you filthy animal!' Y/N yelled, lunging forward to attack.

The crew he brought surged to meet her but I forced myself on my feet: 'Make a move on her – you'd be dead before you hit the ground. Do I make myself clear?' I used the steeliest voice I could muster, making them halt.

'Why am I not surprised these were your shenanigans?' Y/N scoffed, her feet unconsciously gravitating to make her stand next to me.

'You know,' he said, 'I'm gonna take that as a compliment, Princess.'

My mouth went dry with the effort of simply standing and talking, 'Why are you doing this, Walker?'

'Why do you think – it was all because of that damn Dam!' he confessed.

'You were all in for that since day one,' I argued.

'No, Dean, you were all in. I am not. What was I supposed to do – stand up against all of the other big nations? Even I'm not that foolish. The river starts in our nation – it is ours. I'm not going to share it with the malodorous half-breeds.'

'You nasty racist—' I stopped Y/N before she could recklessly get herself killed.

'You better think twice before you do what you intended to do,' I threatened, 'because my—'

'Your rescue?' he scoffed with a laugh, 'Benjamin and Garth? Oh, they are on their way to reach where her Mother and Father went,' he pointed at Y/N to make her angrier. Translation: they're dead.

'Now,' he explained the climax of his diabolical plan just as my weight was beginning to get too much to keep on my feet. 'It is time for me to settle my tabs with you two love birds then I will tell your Father that she killed you, and boom! All that union crap and the Dam project will be closed.'

'Not gonna lie, I'm shocked your malevolent brain can plot like that – only if you had put that to good use. I always thought you had it in you. In fact, Gordon, I had my eye for you . . . for a long time,' Y/N stepped out of my reach, lying as she went.

But my brows furrowed when an ache seemed to start spreading from my heart and flowing through my blood to other organs. The taste of warm rusted metal soaked into my taste buds.

Oh, shit.

Y/N apparently hadn't noticed. 'Now you stand here, sounding all smart with your devilish grin – it's so intoxicating,' she stated in a sultry voice.

With the little adrenaline I had left, I caught the sword Y/N threw at me in time - a feat she managed to accomplish as she had neared them with her distracting flirting. I used the momentum I already was in to plunge the sword into the first guard who came at me.

The second one took longer – more prepared as we sparred in quick flicks of our wrists, dancing on our feet in the art of war. My vision was seemingly getting hazier and I knew not how much longer I could hold my ground – but I couldn't leave Y/N alone to fend off for herself.

With her as my motivation, I swiped the man's sword from his grip by using the hilt of my weapon to his wrist bone that cracked under the pressure. I, then, applied a left hook and proceeded to behead the man with another fatal blow.

Y/N had already taken care of the third guard. There were only three plus Gordon. If we killed him, she would be okay. She was going to be okay.

But in the meantime, Gordon had taken advantage of our distraction to point Y/N's own weapons against her - her bow and arrow.

'Nice try,' he appealed to our attentions.

A small, almost inaudible gasp left me as my heart beat inhumanly fast. More blood gargled up my throat, the acidic burn left in its wake. I felt my knees buckle – this time involuntarily, an action that I followed by purging blood from my system – silently gaging and choking, as my body was wrecked with painstaking seizures.

'You're not gonna win this fight, Gordon. It's two against one. Us against you!'

'Yeah, I won't worry about that,' he smirked in confidence.

'Y/N . . . ' my voice came out strained, wheezes escaping my body as I grappled for any kind of comfort I could find in what's probably and horrifically my last moments alive.

'Dean!' her voice broke through the ringing in my ears. What just happened?

My hands were shaking miserably, unable to hover me over the bloody vomit. So I leaned sideward, a motion that made me dizzy, and I would have struck my head harshly on the ground had it not been for her.

She turned me till she was propping me up against her folded legs, her arms holding most of my weight up. But that was honestly enough for me. I was safe again.

'Dean, look at me, love,' her panic-stained voice pierced my hearing, her dainty fingers slapped my cheek lightly – the opposite cheek she had slapped me on just yesterday.

Huh, well, I'm positively fucked, was all I could think.

My eyes were dry and stinging with tears all at the same time, claret dripped from the corner of my mouth still. I could barely keep my eyes open – but I had to.

I need to see her one last time.

Because God, she's gorgeous.

Her h/c h/l hair fell in waves around her frame, singling out the beautiful features that composed her face. The now glossy e/c eyes, the small adorable nose, the thin pink lips, and the ever-glowing s/c skin.

'What did you do?' she was yelling.

'Me?' he asked with hysteria and amusement. 'Oh, no, it's all you, Princess Y/N. Once I knew he was after you, all I did was paint a pinch of black widow venom on his sword. To kill you on the spot, of course. Because I knew your Romeo won't be able to do that. But fate had other plans. You are the one who marked his pretty skin, so don't pin this on me,' he shifted the blame.

She truly is the death of me, my dying brain thought it was funny to remind me.

'Y/N,' I whispered, wanting to tell her so much.

I wanted to let her know how much I loved her, how sorry I was for the fight the previous night, how much I want to marry her, how much I would have loved to settle down and have kids with her, how much I want her by my side to rule our kingdoms, how fortunate I think I am to have her as my lover, how she made me the happiest man on the planet to let me hold and have her.

But all that comes out is a repetition of her name, like a chant – a prayer that saved me, and will save me. I've worshipped her for as long as I can remember, why stop now when I was dying?

'Save him, please,' I heard her plea as sleep fought to take me under.

'Now, where's the fun in that?'

'Oh, my God,' she sobbed, looking down at me as water glittered on her cheeks. I wish I could raise my hand and wipe it off – I wanted to tease her for this, make her laugh one last time. But it was impossible to move; my nervous system and organs shut down one by one. 'Dean, my love, stay with me,' she begged me.

I could only grunt in pain.

Her hand squeezed mine.

'You did me a favor, Princess. Now it's my time to seize the chance and finish the job.'

My mind took too long to process this, only realizing what it meant when an arrowhead poked out of Y/N's right lung, gory with her blood, making her gasp. But she didn't budge from my side.

I opened my mouth to scream at her to leave – to run. To save herself, but my vocals failed me terribly.

'You will pay for this,' she promised, but she didn't move, looking down at me in her arms.

My helplessness finally overwhelmed me. The woman I had sworn to protect was going to die – and I could do nothing to save her.

Tear broke their barriers.

This was it.

'I . . . love you,' I choked with all the remaining energy I had.

'My love . . . I love you, too . . . .'

A/N: Me from the first time I tried the first-person POV - I've tried not to harass its originality, so all the mistakes and drama-queenness is mine 🙃.

Anyhow, if you're new to my page and you don't know, this one-shot is intrinsically linked to my series The Supernatural Wars, Purgatory Series, and another in the works. If you're interested in diving into a whole new world, do continue to Part 2!

Tag List.

@stoneyggirl2 @hobby27 @globetrotter28 @aylacavebear @emma1998sblog

@stanzie

[mrs-barnes-rogers-writes]

The Fate Of A Fae - Part 10

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader x Steve Rogers

Soulmate Match: You know on sight. Friends also know when they meet you if you're a match for one of their friends.

Summary: Natasha Romanoff is a meddling, pain in the ass Sprite, who you wrongly thought would leave you alone once you introduced her to your best friend, Darcy. News flash, she doesn’t and she won’t. Not when she thinks you’re a perfect match for two of her best friends. Could she be right? Maybe. Just don’t tell her that.

“Never tell Natasha Romanoff she was right” - Clint Barton

Chapter Summary: The reader's health declines.

Chapter Warning: Mentions of past trauma, medical issues, blood.

Bucky doesn’t sleep. He watches you the whole night, stretching his legs on occasion and pacing around your apartment.

He checks the security system and then checks the windows and door himself to be sure, still feeling something isn’t right. He finds himself drawn to your bookcase, where there’s a mix of classic and modern tales. Along the bottom are a varied stack of titles and Bucky wonders if these are ones you’ve edited as there seems to be little order compared to the other neat and tidy shelves. There’s a framed photograph of you and Darcy, and another of you, Wanda and Pietro beside it. There’s one of an elderly lady, with a likeness to you. She’s human but there’s something about her eyes. He wonders if this is the grandmother you spoke of earlier. He’s pulled away from it as he hears you rustling in the bedsheets. You let out a sigh and a whisper.

“He’s gone.” 

You sound sad and childlike. He makes his way back to your bedside to find you’ve already drifted back to sleep. He smooths down your hair, and places a kiss to your temple. 

“I’m right here.” 

You murmur in your sleep and smile. He kisses you again, on the cheek this time and settles back in the chair. He reaches for his phone and begins to read all of the many papers and articles that Tony and Shuri have sent. He stays like that until the sun comes up and you begin to wake. 

You yawn and stretch as you wake up. Bucky purposely moves in the chair so you know he’s there. You glance over a confused look on your face.

“I thought you’d gone.” You say quietly.

“I’ve been here all night. I’m not just going to up and leave you.” He assures you as he strolls over and perches on the bed. He runs a finger down your cheek but you don’t look him in the eye as you speak.

“Bucky?”

“Yes.”

“What do you know about me? What’s Nat told you?”

“Well, she’s told me how you introduced her to Darcy. That you’d been friends from when you were part of Stark’s temp pool. That you met when you were covering for Peppers assistant.”

“Not that. The other stuff.” You replied as you pushed yourself up abruptly. “Did you know? Did you know before yesterday that I didn’t have my ears and wings.”

Bucky shook his head. 

“But she said she showed you a photo?” You say questioningly. 

“Every photo I’ve seen your ears have been keen covered and faes don’t walk around with their wings on show all the time.”

“I don’t understand why she didn’t tell you.”

Bucky watches as you squeeze your hands together. He notices that you start to dig your nails into your hands and places his over yours to stop you. He looks at you softly and your eyes meet as a stray tear runs down your cheek.

“Hey, everything’s going to be okay.” He assures you as he cups your cheek, keeping one hand over your own to stop you clawing at yourself.

“I ran away.” You blurt out suddenly. “I ran away and they kept taking me back. They’re arseholes Bucky, but this! I’ve been on them since I was a child! They took my wings and they stopped them coming back.”

“I thought you didn’t know what they were?” He asked firmly. 

“I didn’t. I googled them on my phone when I was in the bathroom last night.”

“After you showered? Is that why you almost passed out? Was it the shock?”

You shrugged. Bucky sighed and pulled you towards him. You sit awkwardly with your head on his shoulder. You don’t know that Bucky is fighting the urge to pull you into his lap and find your parents all at the same time. You stay like that for a few minutes until the buzz of the security system makes you jump.

“That’ll be Sam. He’s bringing me some clean clothes. Stay put and I’ll make you some breakfast.”

“I need to pee.” You reply, before your eyes go wide realising what you’ve said. 

“Then pee and get that pretty ass of yours back in bed. We have plenty of time before the appointment.” He says before standing and making his way towards the security panel to let Sam in. You can’t help but admire how broad his shoulders are and how his arms flex. 

“Stop gawking and go to the bathroom.” He says without looking at you. 

“How did you even know?” You mutter.

“I’m a dragon, I know when I’m being watched.”

You slip into the bathroom, rolling your eyes at your appearance and puffy eyes. You’re washing your hands when you feel an odd sensation wash over you. Your ears get warm like they had the day before and it’s quickly followed by a crippling pain shooting up your back, causing you to double over and crip the sink. You try to hold in the scream that threatens to rip from your throat, but it’s a struggle as the sensation washes over you again. You hear Bucky saying something but it’s muffled and he sounds far away. There’s a ringing in your ears and the sensation comes again. This time the scream rips from your throat as pain surges up your back. Your nose begins to pour with blood, your vision blurs and you feel like you’re going to pass out. Then there’s warmth, something is heavy around your waist and there’s a reassuring voice. When the spots clear from your vision you find yourself on Bucky’s lap, who’s seemingly sat on the closed toilet. His grip is firm and you know you wouldn’t be upright if he wasn’t holding you. Sam’s knelt in front you a wet washcloth dabbing at your nose. There’s something on your finger, you hear beeping and Sam’s voice saying random numbers. 

“Okay, get her to eat something and once her BP evens out get her here.”

“Thanks Bruce.”

You mutter out a sorry before Bucky shushes you and Sam places a blanket over your bare legs, telling you he’s going to grab you some pain relief and a glass of water.

You lean into Bucky who places a kiss to your head. You mutter out a sorry, embarrassed by whatever has happened and that they’ve both seen you in such a state, along with the fact you’re only wearing an oversized t-shirt and underwear. 

“I’ve got you. I’m not going to say it’s okay again because it’s not, but I’m not going anywhere alright. I’ve got you.”

You nod weakly as Sam appears in the bathroom again. 

“Here baby girl, take these,” he says handing you some pain relief and a glass of water “and drink all of this. Do you have any Powerade, anything like that?”

You shake your head. 

“There was some fresh juice in the groceries that Tony sent, would that work?” Bucky asked. 

“We can try it, we need to get her fluids in her and get her sugars up a little. I’ll make you guys some breakfast. You need help moving her?”

“No, I got it.” Bucky says, lifting you up with ease and taking you back to the bed. 

Sam comes back with the juice just as Bucky starts moving and fluffy your pillows.

“Suits you tinman.”

You watch as Bucky’s eyebrows furrow. 

“The fussing over your girl, it’s cute.”

“I hate you.”

Bucky’s statement causes you to smile and Bucky’s quick to smile back at you. 

“Ok, so we can do bacon, eggs, pancakes and you our little fairy princess are having a bowl of fruit too.” Sam’s voice comes from the other side of the screen. 

The smile is gone from your face in an instant. Bucky moves quickly and you can hear the two of them whispering. There’s something about small portions and shitty parents and you realise Natasha has been sharing your secrets. 

When Bucky appears back from the around the screen you’re scowling. 

“When did she tell you my parents were so shit that they didn’t give me breakfast?”

“Yesterday.”

At least he’s honest you think to yourself. The next hour passes with you eating your child size breakfast in bed and Bucky eating his dragon sized one from the chair. Bucky’s surprised that you eat it without too much of a fuss. Although he does wonder if it’s due to you not wanting to upset Sam. 

Sam takes Bucky's place in the chair when he pretty much shoves Bucky into your small bathroom to shower and change. The small talk is easy having known the griffin for a while and you talk about doing another writing class at the VA.

When Bucky pulls open the bathroom door, he’s still straightening out his shirt. The dark blue jeans he’s wearing are snug on his thighs and you can’t help but admire how his t-shirt fits snuggly around his biceps, both flesh and metal. He’s saying something to Sam, who quips something back and then mentions something about an admirer. You realise suddenly that you’re the admirer and they’ve caught you ogling. You look between them both trying to think of something to say when their expressions suddenly change and their smirks turned to shock. 

“Holy shit.” Sam gasps out. 

“What?” You ask in reply.

Bucky makes his way towards you a look on his face you can’t quite place. 

“Doll, you’re shimmering.” He says softly.

“What? Of course I’m not!” You say before looking down at your arms and hands. You gasp as you realise you are in fact shimmering. It’s light and would probably only be noticeable to those that knew you. Like a sprinkle of glitter had swept across you and had been trapped under your skin, you were shimmering for the first time since you were six years old. The fables say that the shimmer comes from when a star and angel fell from the sky together, and made fairies. You weren’t sure you believed that. 

You don’t see the look Sam and Bucky exchange or hear Sam collecting up Bucky’s things and putting together your medication, but you do hear Bucky as he kneels beside the bed.

“Y/N?”

“Hmmmm” You say, looking down at your arms and hands still. 

“We need to get you ready to see Bruce and Helen babydoll, can you get up for me? I’ll help you get ready?”

“Oh erm okay.” You reply, still not looking at him. He pulls back the covers slowly and you shuffle over towards the edge of the bed. “Bucky? My legs are doing it too?”

“I see that, let’s get you to the docs.”

“Stand up slowly Y/N. You gotta be careful of your blood pressure.” Sam calls from behind the screen. 

“Okay.” 

“We’ll go slow doll, and you’re gonna need to let me help you.”

“Erm okay, I need to shower.”

“Maybe just freshen up, you showered last night and I don’t want you to over do things. You gonna have some scans, some blood tests, ultrasounds, things like that, so we’ll get you in something comfortable and you can grab a shower later or we could go to my place and you can soak in the tub.”

You nod weakly and Bucky guides you into the bathroom. You look more pale than you did when you’d used the bathroom earlier. You do your skin care routine and brush your teeth. You feel Bucky’s eyes on you, even as he pulls clothes from your drawers. He places a comfortable looking underwear set, socks, leggings, vest top and an oversized hoodie on the counter. 

“I’m going to give you some privacy to change your underwear. Leave this unlocked and I’ll come back in to help with the rest.”

You nod but remain silent. 

“If you’re uncomfortable I can call Darcy and Nat.”

“No, it’s fine.” 

Your eyes meet in the mirror and he nods and steps out of the bathroom. You freshen up and change your underwear. You’re putting on some tinted moisturiser when Bucky knocks and steps back in. He helps you into your clothes when you’ve finished putting on a minimal amount of makeup. 

You want to protest. You want to put up a fight and say you’re fine and you can do it yourself but you can’t. You feel washed out, confused and worst of all, you feel stupid. Your dad had always said you were an idiot. How had you been on a medication so long and not know what it was? Bucky seems to sense your conflict and as you smooth over your hair, the plait still in from the night before, he places an arm around your waist. 

“We’ll figure this out feyri, don’t worry.”

You give in for a moment and lean back on him, before Sam interrupts with a request to take your blood pressure again. Bucky takes your hand and guides you to one of the kitchen stools. You go to take off the hoodie only for Sam tell you that you don’t need to thanks to Tony’s fancy device. He clips it on your finger and you realise it’s the same one he’d used in the bathroom. Sam makes conversation with you and holds your focus as you ask him how he knows how to do all of this. He explains he was trained to give emergency first aid in the field and he keeps up with the training. 

“He has his uses.” Bucky tells you as he appears at the side of you, now in a leather jacket and sunglasses tucked into his T-shirt. He looks like some sort of rugged biker and your mind wanders. You wonder where the jacket has come from and watch him as he collects the one he’s wore yesterday from the hook next to your door. It’s wool and Burberry, the complete opposite to what he’s wearing now. He places it over two bags near the door and you go to ask why one looks like yours, before Sam snaps your attention back to him. 

“You feel dizzy? Nauseous?” He asks.

“No, just tired and confused by all of this.”

He nods and taps your hand reassuringly. 

“Any signs you feel unwell, dizzy or how you did before you tell Buck okay?”

You nod. 

“You still good or do you want me to go with you guys?” 

“Actually change of plan, can you follow us in?”

“Sure.”

You grabbed your bag and keys and slipped on your Converse. As you reached for the door Bucky was suddenly at your side stepping in front of you and checking the security system at the door. One you’re out in the hallway and your door is locked Bucky steers you to the stairs, one of the bags and his jacket in one hand and the other in yours, as he guides you behind him. Sam is on your heels with the other bag, an overnight bag that very much looked liked yours. Bucky takes you through the fire escape and you see a very expensive looking sports car and a truck, that you know is Sam’s parked tightly behind it in-between the buildings. They discuss a route as Bucky guides you to the passenger side and opens the door. He puts on your seatbelt and you can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong. 

When he slips into the drivers seat you’re sure he’s bigger than he was moments before. His jaw his set hard and his eyes flick gold as pulls on his sunglasses. He’s silent and stoic the whole way to Stark Industries tower. 

When he pulls into the basement car park you discover Bucky has a parking space with his name on between one marked for Steve and another that has Natasha’s car already parked there. Darcy and Nat are waiting hand and hand in front of the doors that lead into the tower, with Happy standing to the side. What was Tony’s head of security doing here? 

When Bucky holds open your door, you hear him exchanging words with Sam who’s in his own marked spot across from Bucky’s.

“You sure?” Sam asks, “I can have someone cover.”

“I’ll call you if anything changes. Nat’s here and Danvers is in the building.”

“Call me if anything changes.” Sam replies before turning to you. “Be good baby girl.”

When you join Nat, Darcy and Happy near the doors to the tower, Darcy pulls you into a hug, as Nat asks you a question.

“Are you ready?”

You didn’t answer, a vacant look across your face. You certainly were not ready. 

feyri / fae

Fancy a cuppa? My Ko-Fi.

TAGLIST

@animegirlgeeky @calwitch @jenniferpendragon @sebastians-love @otterlycanadian @mrsevans90 @hi172826

[chronicsyd]

I think it makes the most sense that both Vi and Caitlyn die in the alternate universe. Because it could be enough that Vi dies because of Jayce's illegal contraband, making Piltover responsible for the death, but the way that Piltover is even at the start of the show they could be like "well they were stealing they deserved it" or some other nonsense but if the daughter of a councilor were to Also die due to Jayce's illegal contraband, that would be enough for them because not only did it affect Them but two daughters of two of the top people from both Piltover and Zaun die so they'd have to mend.

But this also proves that Hextech was the problem in the alternate universe, Not Vi. Because of the deaths, the Council doesn't send hoards of Enforcers to Zaun in response, Hextech doesn't get off the ground, Piltover doesn't become this "City of Progress" leaving Zaun in the dust, with Piltover and Zaun able to mend and things aren't as hostile in Zaun both Vander and Silco are able to mend their own relationship so things like Shimmer and Silco's deal with Marcus doesn't happen, like the list goes on.

[k9effect]

I think a Mickey 17 soulmates au would go hard considering all the debate in the movie about whether multiples share a soul or one doesn't have a soul. Like, are Mickey 17 and 18 both Nasha's soulmates? Is only one? And then the other dies does it transfer? Much to ponder

[the-really-lonely-mountain]

To Erebor - Part 5

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Summary: Transported to Middle Earth, you must Join Thorin Oakenshield's Company as they travel to reclaim Erebor! OR: My take on the classic 'modern girl in Middle Earth' troupe. This is the second installment, so we are following the second movie of The Hobbit trilogy, and falling deeper in love with Kili on the way! This is the second part for the second movie.

Tags: Kili / Reader, Reader-Insert, Slow Burn, Modern Character in Middle Earth, During The Hobbit, How Do I Tag, Canon-Typical Violence, Kíli Is a Little Shit (Tolkien), implied soulmates, Dwarf Culture & Customs, Freeform, light smut, it's really just a brief description nothing too graphic but i certianly wouldn't want to be caught reading it, Holding Hands, Cuddling & Snuggling, Sleepy Cuddles, Protective Thorin Oakenshield Company Members, Dwalin & Thorin Oakenshield Friendship, Fluff and Humor, Domestic Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Where In Middle-Earth Is Gandalf?, Hair Braiding, Dwarf Courting, My First Tumblr Fic, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Fíli & Kíli & Thorin Live, Thorin Oakenshield Lives, Fíli Lives (Tolkien), Kíli Lives (Tolkien), sword fight training, kili is a big ole softy and i love him so much for it, tags tbd tbh lol

Word Count: 4,758

A/N: OMG!! I graduated! I got a job! I finally edited this part! I'm so tired y'all, I'm writing this author note at like midnight lol. ~AnywhoOOo~ I hope you enjoy! let me know if you'd like to join the tag list to be directly notified of chapter updates! <3

Divider credit: @cafekitsune

You woke to the usual clanging of pots and pans as breakfast was being cooked. Kili’s hand was still on your waist and his arm was still your pillow, though you were sure it’d gone numb in the night. You gently placed your hand on his cheek and tenderly ran your thumb over his delicate cheek bone. He looked so handsome sleeping beside you, it made you smile like a giddy little schoolgirl. You regretted having to remove yourself from his warm embrace, but you had to start packing your things and getting ready for the day. A much easier task now that you didn’t have to worry about your hair. When you were finished and your bag was neatly packed, you woke Kili.

He stretched his arms above his head then his eyes popped open, “Good morning!”, he sat up energized and ready to conquer the day.

“Good morning!” You replied with a kind smile, ever impressed by his liveliness in the mornings, “Start packing, Bombur’s almost finished breakfast.”

He shuffled about beside you while you worked on the last half of your bracelet, waiting for breakfast.

The porridge was the usual white sludge meant for nutrients, not flavor. You rinsed the dishes in the river with Kili’s animated storytelling as you usually did after meals. Thorin had the company moving out when you returned.

The day’s walk was very scenic, mostly idyllic forests with little rivers, where the lighting truly brought it all together. You walked between Kili and Fili so they could give you the basic run-down of sword handling and bowmanship.

By the end of midday, the company was on the border of the forest and a field. Thorin decided to make camp there and told Gloin to make the fire while Nori, Bifur, and Oin set traps in the forest to restock the reserves or something, you weren’t listening, too focused on Kili’s hand in yours as he led you somewhere.

The extra sparkle in his gorgeous brown eyes told you he was very excited to teach you about archery. As the resident Archer, no one (his brother) could compete for your attention by correcting him. He was also excited to watch you use his bow and his arrows; an honor bestowed upon an extremely select group.

Kili was very protective of his bows, not just because of the time it takes to make such an incredibly valuable weapon, but because one time in his youth he worked for weeks carving a brand-new bow from solid wood, making the string by hand, and engraving runic talismans into the handle. He worked very hard on that bow; Only to have one of his snot-nosed neighbors snatch it from him while they were playing and accidentally snap it in half after a misstep. Kili was furious, absolutely inconsolable. Fili had to drag him from the scene of the crime to the forest just behind their family house, so he didn’t hunt the kid down and destroy him. He didn’t say anything to Fili, just cursed and milled about the clearing in frustration. At first, his brother didn’t know what he was doing, concerned he was setting a malicious trap for the offending child (such a spiteful trap was almost sprung after another incident of the same nature); but as Fili silently watched, out of arm’s punching reach of course, he realized his brother was just looking for a piece of wood to make a new bow. Fili built a fire to keep the chill of the setting sun at bay, not wanting to abandon his brother to the coming night. He watched the younger mumble curses in dwarfish as he whittled the wood seemingly in his own little world. Kili hadn’t really taken notice of the fire his brother built despite using its light and occasionally throwing more wood on out of habit while he stayed up all night to make the string and engrave the handle. Their mother, Dis, saw them through the window in the back door in the middle of the night. Fili was sitting on the ground, relaxed, leaning against a tree while he watched his brother on the other side of the blazing fire, Kili was sitting on a rock hunched over his bow as it came together. Dis knew from that moment Fili would always look after his little brother, or at the very least try his best. The craftsmanship of the bow he made that night was nowhere near his previous bow, but it could still shoot the straightest arrow in the village. It would do till he grew again and needed a bigger one.

Kili brought you a few yards away from the camp, out of ear shot but not out of sight. After the crash course in archery during the day’s walk, you were as prepared as you could be. And excited as ever. Kili carved a target into the trunk of a tree with his dagger, not worried about losing misfired arrows in the underbrush because the fletching on the end of all his arrows were bright yellow.

He situated you both at a reasonable distance from the target and demonstrated again how to place your fingers on the string and what position to be in when you pull the string back. When he handed you the bow you were not expecting it to be as heavy as it was. Without an arrow, you tried to pull the string back like he showed but you couldn’t move it. You looked at Kili.

“Just pull it back Y/N.” He encouraged, with a proud little smile.

“I am, Kee,” you said still straining to pull it. It wouldn’t budge. He thought for a moment, trying to figure out what could be wrong—Ah! He got it!

“Here, let me help.” He came up and stood behind you. “The draw weight for my bow must be too high for you,” he said into your ear, his low hushed tone not going unnoticed as he got into position. He shuffled his legs behind yours and placed his hand below yours on the handle and his fingers above and below your slimmer, softer ones on the string. They were much stronger and much thicker than yours. Two of your fingers were the same width as one of his, a thought that quickly had you blushing. The irresistible mental image of moaning out for him while being deliciously stretched around his capable digits as he cooed praises, was nearly too much. You thanked god he was behind you and couldn’t see your bright red face.

He let you do most of the work pulling the bowstring to allow you to get a feel for the mechanics and amount of potential energy the movement created.

“And…” he made sure you were ready, “Release.”

You both let go of the string at the same time.

“Perfect! Now let’s try it with an arrow” He got one from the quiver on his back and handed it to you.

You nocked the arrow like he taught you then got into position. He helped you pull the string back like before, allowing you to control the aim.

“Ready…” You said to him this time, “Release!”

The arrow flew across the field and landed smack in the middle of the bullseye.

“No way,” Kili said in complete disbelief. You both went over to inspect the target. Sure enough, the arrow was deep in the carved center circle of the tree.

“That’s amazing Y/N!” He turned to you with the biggest smile you’d ever seen. You were as happy as him, jumping up and down excitedly.

“I want to try again!” You walked over to your previous spot and lined yourself up, waiting for him to join you. He chuckled at your enthusiasm and grabbed another arrow on the way over. You repeated the process like a practiced dance, enjoying more than anything that he was your partner. He allowed you to aim again, but this time the arrow didn’t hit its mark or the tree at all; It planted itself firmly into the leaf-covered underbrush.

“Awe,” you pouted, “I rushed, next time I’ll take my time.” You went to grab another arrow from his quiver, accidentally getting your face in his. For a moment, you could feel the heat of his lips and his breath tumbling over onto your own in a near ragged pant.

When you backed away you both politely laughed it off, though you could have sworn he leaned closer to you in that brief moment.

You shot all the arrows he had in his quiver. A handful hit the target, and a few even got close to the bullseye, but none hit the center like the first. Being a good coach, he encouraged and teased when the time was right.  

Once again in your own little world, it was like nothing mattered except him. His radiant smile, his contagious laughter, his excitability; it was all consuming. As the day wore on, your arms got tired, and you were ready for a break. You helped him collect the arrows in and around the tree, so he could show off for a bit like boys do for pretty girls. He did trick shots and action shots and even pinned the pinecone you threw for him to the tree. His skills were very impressive. Your return to the camp was met with impressed exclamations.

“Was that a bullseye on the first shot?!” Bofur asked, having seen the miracle even from the other side of the camp.

“Aye!” You said excitedly, proud of your accomplishment. You didn’t even realize that you were beginning to use their dialect.

“Good job lass!” Oin said, along with the others happily celebrating with you.

After all that training, you were hungry for a snack. You rummaged through your bag in search of the grapes you had foraged with Bilbo the day before. They weren’t in your bag where you left them, carefully wrapped in your old T-shirt.

‘They couldn’t have fallen out’ you thought as you scanned the camp for the thief, already having an idea of the culprit. You stopped when your eyes fell on Kili across the camp, leaning against a tree with a shit-eating grin as he popped a grape into his mouth.

You were livid. It was a total invasion of your only private property: your bag, and you felt extremely violated.

You couldn’t say anything to the offending dwarf or even look at him in fear of your rage exploding onto him. Your anger evident from your expression, the camp fell silent as you walked to Kili.

That feeling in Kili’s chest sunk to his boots when he saw how angry you were; he knew he’d gone too far. You snatched the grapes from his hand and walked (stomped) into the field beyond the camp.

“Y/N wait—” he tried to follow you into the field.

“NOT NOW KILI” you snapped at him over your shoulder in a tone he didn’t quite think you were capable of. He stopped in his tracks at your tone, the same one his mother used when she was very cross with him. The other members of the company who heard the commotion snickered at Kili’s self-inflicted misfortune.

You sat in the field, soaking up the sunshine and eating your grapes while you calmed down. Kili moped around camp like an abandoned puppy; it was quite a pitiful sight.

When you finished your snack, you took a few deep breaths to get the anger from your system and allow your thoughts to come together to properly explain to Kili why you were so mad. The youngest Durin hesitantly joined you in the field when he saw you were done with your grapes, his footfalls crunching the grass beneath him alerting you to his presence. He sat next to you clearly a little nervous by how he picked at the grass.

“I’m sorry,” he said, looking at the ground. “It was just supposed to be a joke, honest,”

“Joke or not, Kili Durin, you shouldn’t have gone through my stuff!” You wanted to make sure he understood how unhappy his actions made you. He cringed at his full name. “You violated the only sliver of privacy I have out here!”

“Sorry, Y/N,” he said in a regretful voice you’d never heard from him before. “I shouldn’t have gone through your bag.”

You sighed and looked over at him. “I forgive you Kee,” You took another deep breath, satisfied he’d learned his lesson, “Just don’t do it again, ok?”

He smiled, happy to be back on good terms with you, “I won’t, I promise”. You smiled too, his infectious charm melting what little remained of your anger. You gave him a hug, knowing you both needed physical reassurance.

He sat with you in the field for a while, content to stay in comfortable silence. You’d been eyeing a beautiful patch of flowers a few feet away since you’d sat down. You shifted so you were laying on your stomach to get a closer look at their vibrant hues and decided you wanted to use them, but how? Kili moved next to you, mirroring our position, to see what you were looking at. Then inspiration struck.

“I’ll braid them into your hair!” You said excitedly. He gave you a look of surprised confusion.

“What?! No!” he was immediately against the idea and even backed away from you as if you’d jump on him any second like his brother might. “Why don’t I put them in your hair instead? They’d look much better on you.” He desperately tried to come up with a reason to avoid the inevitable onslaught of mocking he’d have to endure if he agreed to your plan.

You brought yourself to a kneel so you could look him dead in the eyes with a blank expression, “Pussy,” you said.

He scoffed and got all huffy and puffy, “I am not a pussy!” He said defensively, his cute accent got thicker when he was flustered, it made it so hard to take him seriously, “I just think the flowers would make you even more beautiful than you already are.”

You blushed deeply at his words and looked away from his charming little smile to keep your thoughts from a more baser mindset and to think over his offer. He started twirling the end of one of the braids he’d done the night before between his fingers. It was a sweet and absentminded motion, to which you relented with a sigh, “Alright, but you have to teach me how to use a sword after.”

“Deal!” He gave a hearty nod. You got your hair stuff from your bag and your bracelet to work on and hopefully finish while Kili did your hair. You picked the prettiest flowers and put them in the extra fabric of your shirt like a delicate basket. He dragged over a stone to sit on and got to work undoing the braids and brushing your hair out.

You didn’t realize how tight he’d made the braids till the tension was released from your scalp. You sighed in pleasured relief as he moved your hair around with the brush. That sound immediately pricked his ears.

“Does that feel good, princess?” He looked down at you and smiled as he massaged the sore parts of your head. You were too lost in the feeling his skilled hands were creating to react to the pet name.

Once he massaged the soreness away, he parted your hair and began braiding. Kili had a vision of what he wanted to do to your hair. He wanted a thick band like a crown around the top of your head and four small thin braids scattered across the rest of your loose unbraided hair.

You were on an entirely different plane of existence. You felt so calm and relaxed and taken care of with his undivided attention, it was like nothing you’d ever felt before. His tranquil voice when he asked for a flower every now and then was the only thing you could hear. It felt like you were floating, your body sun warmed and peaceful.

When Kili was putting on the finishing touches, Fili came and joined you in the field to see what you both were doing, sadly pulling you from your lovely state of mind.

“Kili wouldn’t let me put flowers in his hair.” You pouted after the older brother inquired about your change in hairstyle.

“Even after he rummaged through your bag!” Fili feigned offense on your behalf with a smirk as he laid on his side in front of you both propped up on his elbow.

“Shut up, Fili” Kili huffed, ashamed of his previous actions, as he carded his fingers through your loose hair to make sure it was laying properly.

“Awe, Kiwi’s embawwassed,” you said in a baby-talk voice, making you and Fili laugh a little.

Kili stopped combing his fingers through your hair and tangled them in the loose hair at the back of your head. He pulled your head down to make you look up at him looming over you. He was about to say something, but the inadvertent dominating gesture caused an involuntary moan to slip past your lips, stalling any thoughts he tried to voice.

You were both stuck in that trance for just a moment, yet it took an eternity to pass. He was unable to look away from your pleasure pinched eyebrows and slightly parted panting lips. You were captivated by his handsome blushing features and the fire in his eyes. You wanted so desperately to kiss him, to meet his lips in heated passion.

“Good gods you two,” Fili rolled his eyes. His sudden interruption snapped Kili back to reality so he could release your hair. “Get a room,” Fili finished his statement.

“Shut up, Fili,” you both said in unison with faces equally ablaze and eyes cast anywhere but at each other. The elder just looked at you two and laughed to himself, he knew at that moment you were both madly in love.

“Here’s your brush, Y/N.” Kili handed it to you, wanting to change the subject.

“Yes, thank you” You took it from him and hastily returned your bag to camp. You met Kili back in the field for sword training. His brother was still there passively observing (waiting till he had to step in to correct the younger as this was not Kili’s area of expertise).

Bilbo allowed you to borrow his sword so you could get an idea of what a properly fitted one felt like without your wrists being torn to shreds by the other much heavier swords of the company. Kili walked you through basic moves and positions to teach you how to make your weapon like an extension of your own body. When he tried to speed up the movements and have you come at him in mock battle, you faltered and messed up the arrangement of poses.

When this happened, Fili of course would step in with a simplified version to help you. Before long, you had an audience, and the watchful eyes and extensive fighting prowess of Thorin and Dwalin. Kili was no longer the teacher but the sentient-sparing mannequin. The sequence of positions and movements became longer the more you worked at it. It felt amazing to be capable of so much. You knew it was just choreography, but it made you better now than you were before.

You were beginning to sweat under your thick tunic. The physical exertion was getting to Kili as well. When you took a water break you removed your shirt, the coffee brown padded camisole you wore underneath being far more breathable, but much tighter than your usual outerwear. It left hardly anything to the imagination.

Your less-dressed return to the now-stamped-down grass of the makeshift training area was met with impressed exclamations, wolf whistles, and light applause. You blushed and pretended to be a fashion model at the end of a runway. They found it very amusing.

Kili came back wondering what the commotion was about.

He saw you waiting for him. You hadn’t noticed him approaching yet, too busy putting on a silly little show. He loved seeing you like this, confident and carefree, not worrying about how you looked and focusing on something that was far more rewarding: having fun. He used the few seconds you were distracted to admire you. Your half up half down hair he’d just braided and styled, was blowing softly in the wind, and your short unruly baby hairs were matted to your sweaty forehead framing your face. Your camisole highlighted the alluring curve from your ribs to your hips. The hem of the fabric was ridding up on your waist, revealing just a sliver of your lower tummy. Your pants kept where they were, hugging tight to your thighs and bottom.

‘Two can play that game’ Kili thought, not even trying to hide his mischievous smile. He took his shirt off and threw it in his bag.

You looked up and saw him coming to meet you. The long bangs that framed his face were clinging to it now from his perspiration. He was smirking, knowing he caught you slightly off guard. His prominent pectoral muscles bled into his strong thick arms. His waist tapered at his hips where his pants were beginning to ride low, revealing his defined adonis belt in its retreat. He exuded power as he walked towards you with his arms out a bit from his side, and his palms facing you, as if he were challenging you.

“Ohho, it’s serious now, is it?” you said over a light chuckle, feigning being taken aback by his friendly challenge.

“Oh, it sure is.” He returned your light laugh and with a smug expression he tapped his sword against yours where it hung at your side. He knew he was flustering you. He could see it in the deepened flush that colored your cheeks and how your thumb picked at the leather-covered hilt of your sword.

You had to bite the inside of your lip rather hard to keep your eyes above his exposed shoulders. It had been so long since you’d felt so physically and mentally attracted to someone. The way he was looking at you made your panties dampen at the scandalous thoughts that his honeyed chocolate eyes made race through your head.

If Thorin hadn’t said, “Ready positions”, in that barking tone of his, you’d have jumped Kili’s bones and rode him off into the sunset.

You both got into the starting positions you preferred. Thorin shouted ‘Commence’ in Dwarfish. Kili came at you with harsh blows, which you perfectly countered like you’d been taught. You were able to quickly move yourself, so you were standing at his side. You took the opening and swung for his exposed ribs, but he easily blocked your attack. You pressed your blade against his to force him back and give up some ground. He stood steadfast in his heavy boots, however, and pushed back against you, getting his face close to yours to tease you.

“Good job, you remembered how to keep your grip on the sword.” He said with mock celebration. You gritted your teeth, determined to keep your footing. He glanced at your lips where your teeth were worrying your lower lip; A habit he noticed when you were focused or nervous.

“I’ve been taught well, Archer.” You shot back, as suave as you could manage under the conditions. He threw you back so he could reset his stance.

“We’ll see about that, Ibinê,” he said, flustering you again with that mischievous grin as his native language easily rolled off his tongue.

You charged at him, and your blades collided with a loud metallic clang. Your sudden advance surprised him, he backed up a few steps. Cheers came from your audience.

“Ibinê?” You strained while your blades met again in a brute force pressing match. “What does that mean?”

Kili shoved you back and swiftly turned around, a trick he hadn’t yet revealed in your spar. He abandoned his blade somewhere off to the side and spun around again but crouched in his movement so he could swipe your legs from beneath you. You fell to the ground with a muted thud, your weapon knocked from your grasp. Kili scrambled to straddle your hips, pinning down your legs with his and your wrists above your head. You tried to fight against him, but his strength and weight are much greater than yours.

He panted above you, smiling like a cat who got the canary, “If only it were you straddling me,” he whispered under his breath and winked at you discreetly. Your chest was heaving, making your breasts ebb and flow with the rhythm. The erotic tension was palpable between you.

“We have a victor!” someone said from the sidelines to break your daze. Kili blushed and stood and helped you from the ground. Your audience clapped a little then dispersed to the camp a few feet away.

You leisurely walked away from the encampment along the edge of the forest to catch your breath. The extra sway in your hips and a casual glance over your shoulder enticed Kili to follow you. He walked beside you. You looked up at him delighted he got the hint and followed you. He leaned over to say in a voice that was deeper than normal, “Ibinê means my gem.” His words took a moment to register, a delayed blush colored your chest and neck.

He bit his lip as a thought played behind his eyes. Growing bold from the adrenaline still in his veins, he wrapped his hand around yours. He picked up speed till he was running with you trailing behind. He took you far from the others. The sun was setting, painting the sky in those vivid colors that only dusk and dawn brought.

Kili slowed to a stop and used his grip on your hand to bring you in front of him. He took a step into your personal space.

“Labathmizi means I adore you.” He gingerly placed his hand on your cheek like he was handling the thinnest, most precious glass in the world. You were blushing profusely, your gaze danced from his eyes to his lips. “Abnâmulzi means you are beautiful.” He pecked his lips against yours for a moment then backed you against a tree and pinned you against it with his strong hand on your hip. The prolonged eye contact was making you pant. His voice was low and rough with arousal, “Azralizi du-nâmrul, Ibinê…” His head ducked down so his lips brushed against yours. “…means I want to fuck you, my gem.” He pressed his lips to yours in a kiss that surpassed any expectation you had. You lifted your leg over his hip, his hand went from your hip to your thigh, an encouraging movement, and it felt like it was searing into your cloth covered skin. It slid up to your ass cheek and urged you to grind against him. Your hand was on his bare shoulder and the other tangled in his hair, scratching and pulling lightly on the soft brown tresses at the nap of his neck. You whimpered as his hardening member pressed against your soaking core. Kili met your movements, making himself hiss at the delicious friction you were both craving.

When you broke the kiss for air as lust flooded your mind and loins, “That’s really hot” was all you could manage.

You were becoming addicted to his kiss. The way his thumb would glide against your cheek and the soft, barely there little whimpers he was making as you deepened the kiss were driving you mad with need. His tongue won its fight against yours when he gyrated his hips perfectly to grind into you, causing a moan to bubble from you. When he broke away, he looked at you, panting.

He suddenly went silent and perfectly still. His eyebrows pinched in a sudden focused confusion as he looked past the tree you were pinned to. This immediately concerned you.

You opened your mouth to ask if he was ok, but he put his finger to his lips to silence you. He closed his eyes and turned his head to focus on something; dwarfs and their connection to the environment around them still confused you.

His eyes shot open in a panic, and he tore himself away from you so he could pick you up bridal style.

You clung to him as he broke out in a sprint back to camp, “A pack of orc’s are coming.”  

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Taglist <3: @letmelickyoureyeballs, @nessarosefiction, @akari-rioan