#story reference page: crystal heart au | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gwentoryfics · 5 years

Text

Hot for Teacher, Part 1.

REPOSTED FROM MY ORIGINAL BLOG, GWENTORY.

Genre | College Student x College Professor Smut AU

Pairing | Hongseok x Reader x Hyunggu (Kino)

Words | 9.5k

Summary | You never realized how much one drunken night could color the rest of your college experience until you discover that the handsome stranger from your cousin’s wedding is also the new professor at your university.

Warnings | Alcohol and underage drinking. Swearing. Dangerous levels of lust.

Parts | 1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • 5 • 6 • More Coming Soon AO3 | 1 • 2

Playlist | Spotify • Youtube

Note | Due to excessive references to American music, I’ve decided to set this fic in America instead of South Korea. Names will follow the American standard of (First Name) (Last Name), instead of the Korean (Family Name) (Given Name). I’ve also linked a playlist (above) that includes any referenced songs, artists, or other music that helps set the vibe, so please check it out!

This can’t be happening. This absolutely, cannot be happening to you right now.

You stare at your professor in shock from the safety of the back of the classroom, hoping to all that is holy that he will not look up to find you sitting there. How could he of all people be your professor? How could you possibly be so unlucky?

Your heart races as your mind clouds over with the memory of that night, of the press of his lips and the fervid insistence of his hands as they explored your body. In a night of slightly drunken passion, you had unknowingly slept with the man who was apparently fated to be your professor. You feel like you could cry from embarrassment, and you bury your head in your notebook as he begins roll call.

“Are you okay? You look like you’re going to be sick.” Your friend Shinhye leans over, voice thick with worry.

You nod, not exactly wanting to fill her in on quite possibly the biggest blunder of your life. Maybe you’d share the story of your sexual escapades with her at some point, but sitting in the same room as your partner in crime is not the time or place to do so. “I’m fine. Just having second thoughts about the class.”

“Shinhye Nam?” He calls flatly from the front of the class.

“Here!” She pipes up and then whispers to you, “What? You’ve been looking forward to this class for months!”

“Yeah, but-”

“_____?” The sound of his voice wrapping around the syllables of your name sends a delicious shiver down your spine. You remember that sound, remember exactly the song of your name as it poured from his lungs that night.

“Here,” you respond meekly, lifting your notebook a fraction higher to give you more cover. Does he remember your name? Does he recognize your voice? Does he remember you at all? Surely he hadn’t been drunk enough to completely forget your tryst.

He moves on to the next name without pause, without even sparing a glance your way. Maybe he had forgotten after all. Maybe you’ve been completely wiped from his memory of that night. Or, conversely, maybe he had only forgotten your name, just as you’ve forgotten his. That doesn’t necessarily mean that your night together was insignificant to him.

It should have been insignificant, though. That’s how hookups work. You bite down on your lip and curse yourself for all of the stupid feelings that flood you, curse the way your heart pounds harder just being in the same room as him. It was just one night, and even though it rocked you to your core it was nothing more than a one-and-done rendezvous.

It was maybe a month and a half ago, but your memory of it is much clearer than it should be, especially given the alcohol consumption that colored most of your evening in a rosy haze. Maybe you had worked overtime to engrain every little detail into your memory because you knew you would never want to forget.

Your cousin’s wedding was a gorgeous affair. Lavish floral arrangements adorned the walls and pews, and sanctuary of the church, each bundle of white roses bound together with violet ribbons and lace. Music floated out from grand piano and violin duo, and oh what you would have done to get your hands on that Steinway. Its tone was pure as snow and you bet it played like a dream. And with the reverberating acoustics of the tall church ceiling, its sound was nothing short of angelic.

The priest led the groom in from the side. You had not yet met Hwitaek, but he was handsome and bore a kind, nervous smile. He looked like exactly the kind of guy Jiyoo would fall for, and it made you happy to see the apparent anxious excitement he had for the event.

The music changed and the processional began. The bridesmaids and groomsmen made their way down the aisle two at a time, arm in arm, and you were captivated by the elegant dresses the bridal party wore. The purple of their gowns exactly matched the accents of the flowers in their bouquets, and the bodices were intricately decorated with the finest crystals. The girls absolutely sparkled. But, of course, they could never outshine the bride.

All of the attendants stood as the music changed once more, signaling the entrance of the bride. Jiyoo appeared at the end of the aisle, clinging to her father’s arm as they slowly moved forward. The skirt of her ballgown dress nearly filled the whole aisle, and the sweetheart neckline hid behind a sheer lace boat neck top with cap sleeves. It was so stunningly her. And her bouquet was dripping with crystals, her veil and train similarly doused in glitz. But above all, she looked so, so happy.

She joined Hwitaek, passing off her bouquet and taking his hand, and you realized that he had tears in his eyes. Yes, he was definitely the sweetheart for Jiyoo.

The priest opened the ceremony with a prayer, and you obediently bowed your head, although you were admittedly on the fence about your religious beliefs. Still, you sent out some hopeful well-wishes for the soon-to-be newlyweds, because it couldn’t hurt to put some good energy out into the universe.

The ceremony proceeded, and although beautiful, it certainly lacked entertainment value. Not that weddings are meant to be entertaining, per se, but the more religious ceremonies could really drudge on, in your opinion. This one was certainly no exception. There were plenty of scripture readings and hymns, most of which you knew by heart due to spending your childhood in a very similar church. But right as you were starting to feel boredom blur your focus, you noticed him.

He was a groomsman, two down the line from Hwitaek. His tux looked as though it had been made for him, crisp and clean and sitting just right on his broad shoulders. He could have been a model, or a celebrity even, for all you knew. He was certainly far too gorgeous to just be an ordinary person. His dark hair hung soft on his forehead, his eyes were sharp, his lips were plush. How had it taken you so long to notice him?

For the rest of the ceremony you found yourself to be quite preoccupied, as one would imagine. The borderline salacious thoughts that filtered through your mind almost made you feel uncomfortable to be sitting in the house of God, so you did your best to train your eyes on Jiyoo and Hwitaek instead of the unfortunate, unreal beauty of the groomsman.

Finally, after far too long of a ceremony, the couple shared their first kiss as husband and wife, and the whole party recessed down the aisle. You thought you were in the clear, since The World’s Biggest Distraction was finally leaving, but then the damn boy looked squarely at you as he walked by.

You swear your panties literally (not literally) disintegrated.

Back in the classroom, Shinhye kicks your chair, startling you back to the present. “Girl, snap out of it. Why are you so spacey?”

You sit up a little straighter, dropping your notebook onto the desk and blurting, “Yeah, no, it’s fine.”

Your nonsense earns you a weird look, which you make right back at her before glancing to the front of the room, where The Hottest Professor is staring right at you.

Well, you couldn’t have avoided it forever.

His gaze lingers just long enough for you to know that he recognizes you, that he’s having the same mild freakout as you. So he does remember.

Clearing his throat, he breaks eye contact and casually looks around the room as he introduces himself. “Good morning everyone, and welcome to the first day of classes. I am Professor Yang. It is very nice to meet all of you.” He picks up a stack of papers from his desk and starts passing the packets down each row, working his way to the back of the room. “This is a two-part class. For the first seven weeks we will meet here in the classroom and learn the basics of physics as they pertain to musical instruments. The following eight weeks will be spent in the workshop across the hall, where you will each build your own instrument with my guidance.”

You intentionally keep your eyes glued to the blank page of your notebook, and you curse yourself for having chosen the seat at the beginning of the row. He holds the last of his packets out to you, standing close enough that you can smell the sweet cardamom and bergamot of his cologne. Damn, you love that smell.

“You’ll notice my office hours listed here on the syllabus. My office is right down at the end of the hall. Please feel free to stop in if there are ever any questions or concerns about the course material.”

It feels as though his words are directed specifically at you instead of the entirety of the class, and you can’t help but wonder if you’re only imagining it. You begrudgingly peek up at him and he nods encouragingly, still waiting for you to take the papers. When you finally grab the meager stack, he immediately heads back to the front of the class without so much as a smile. But what else should you expect? He’s probably not happy about this situation either.

The syllabus states his office location and hours as well as a phone number, which you assume is for an office phone. He would be insane to give out his personal phone number, especially being as attractive as he is. Students would certainly take advantage of that, yourself not included. You know better. You want absolutely nothing to do with this man if he’s your teacher.

Professor Hongseok Yang. You groan and slump down in your chair.

What have you done?

The reception was held in the banquet hall of a hotel not too far from the church. It was an elegant setting, with pretty white tables and chairs and more of the same extravagant floral arrangements for centerpieces. The lavender lighting cast a soft glow on the sheer white curtains billowing softly by the open windows, a pleasant summer breeze filling the room with fresh air. The calming color and soothing evening air did nothing to relax your nerves, though, your leg jiggling up and down to release the nervous energy within you.

You anxiously awaited the arrival of the wedding party, sipping at the champagne meant for a toast and convincing yourself that you were getting worked up over nothing. It’s not like anything would happen. You would never in a million years work up the courage necessary to speak to the groomsman. He was way out of your league; you’d just clam up and look like an idiot if you tried to start a conversation. It would definitely be much safer to keep to yourself.

Really, the whole thing was stupid. You were there to support your cousin, not to fawn over some guy. It was absurd for you to be so bothered by your sudden love interest to the point of meticulously planning out the rest of the night in order to avoid being around him. Yet there you were, completely intent on spending the night at your table, having a night of simple conversation and safe, good fun. And eventually you’d get out of your seat to congratulate the happy couple, but that’s it. Your mom would be so proud.

Your cousin had been kind enough to seat you at a table with your other cousins instead of your parents. You wouldn’t have minded sitting with your parents, but if you had the choice you’d much rather be around people your own age. Your parents could be a little uptight (well, more than a little, especially when going to family events), and even if you were going to have a low-key night, you’d have a much better time gossiping with your cousins instead of constantly having to reassure your mother that she looks just as beautiful as your aunts without looking overdone.

All you wanted was a relaxed, stress free night. But when had things ever gone the way you planned?

You had tried not to stare at him. You really had. But some things just can’t be helped. The wedding party made their entrance, and you were drawn to him like a moth to a flame. He glowed when he smiled, burning brighter than the sun, but you were unable to look away and save yourself, completely trapped in the warmth of his light.

You realized that at least a fraction of your attraction to him was likely due to the personality you were projecting onto him - he seemed clever, funny, stubborn - but he might not have been any of those things. Maybe he was bookish, or a sports fanatic. Maybe he loved puppies and children, or cigarettes and motorcycles. You only had one way to find out for sure, but you would certainly not be learning those things about him tonight or any other night.

When the meal was finished and the dancing had begun, you just couldn’t keep your eyes off of him. He and the other groomsmen partied hard, tearing up the dance floor and taking full advantage of the open bar. The particular man that had caught your eye left his jacket at the table, rolling up his sleeves to reveal his veiny forearms - dangerous, as you were far too easily affected by impressive vasculature. He had to be covered in muscles, you just knew it.

Minseo, who had been sitting next to you all night, returned from the bar with a round of beverages for the both of you. “Bless Jiyoo for asking a friend to bartend. He’s not carding and honestly he’s super cute.”

“What I’m hearing is that we need to down these drinks as fast as possible so you can get back up there and talk to him again.” You gratefully accepted the wine glass, immediately pulling it to your lips and taking a deep sip of the dry, fruity beverage.

“Not a bad idea. And next time I’ll get a more complicated drink.” She smiled mischievously, taking a long sip of her own wine, which was already half finished. “What about you? When are you gonna go out there and dance? He’ll never notice you sitting over here.”

Wine dribbled down your chin when you pulled away from your glass too soon, and you sloppily wiped it off with the back of your hand before it could drip onto your dress. “What? Who? What are you talking about?” You blubbered, face growing warm, realizing that she had caught you. Your staring must have been too obvious.

“Come on. The groomsman. You can’t keep your eyes off of him. I’m telling you to go make a move.” She plopped into her seat. “Seriously. Go get it.”

Vehemently shaking your head, you refuse to take her up on any of her ludicrous suggestions. “Are you kidding me? I can’t just walk up to him and… and…”

“No, you’re right, you’re right. We’ll go together.” Minseo downed the rest of her drink and waited for you to do the same.

You continued your head-shaking routine, adding a finger wag for emphasis. “No way. I’m staying right here where it’s safe. The DJ isn’t that great anyway. Do you hear this music? I can’t dance to this.”

Just as soon as you mentioned it, the music cut out, drawing your attention to the DJ’s stand. Shinhye twisted in her seat to look over. “What’s he doing? The song isn’t even over.”

“See? I told you-”

“Alright, single ladies!” The DJ shouted way too loudly into the microphone. “Let’s get all of you out here and toss that bouquet!”

Minseo’s head whipped around like something out of a horror movie. Before she could say a single word, you took to shaking your head once more. “No, no, no. I am not going up there.”

You knew she wouldn’t listen to your futile attempts at refusal. Minseo stood, forcefully grabbing your wrists and yanking you out of your chair. “Come on, it’s for Jiyoo. Just stand there and look involved.”

Begrudgingly, you let her drag you to the center of the room, where you joined at least fifteen other bachelorettes. You tucked yourself amongst them, wishing you could just be invisible. Jiyoo smiled brightly at her flock of targets before turning her back, and when the DJ counted down from three, she flung her beautiful bouquet into the air.

And wouldn’t you know it, the damn thing flew right for you.

It arced high in the air, but it didn’t take a genius to see where it was going to land. You lifted your hands and it fell right into your grasp; you didn’t even have to reach for it. The room was all cheers and applause as you very suddenly became the center of attention, Jiyoo closing in to congratulate you.

“Ahhh, my baby cousin!” She squealed as she wrapped her arms around you in a big hug, her poofy dress swallowing your legs. “You know that means you’re next, right?”

“Next to get married?” You question with a quiet laugh. “That seems unlikely. I don’t know if you’ve noticed how very much single I am.”

“But the flowers have commanded that you’ll fall in love.” Jiyoo winked playfully, and you couldn’t help but smile, even if you didn’t believe in such superstitions.

The wedding photographer snapped a few photos of the two of you, and for a moment you forgot all about the beautiful distraction that was currently seated at the head table. You squeezed your cousin tightly, congratulating her on this big step into womanhood. “I’m so happy for you, Jiyoo! Your new husband is super cute, too.”

“He is, isn’t he.” She smiled wide and then gasped. “You haven’t met him yet, have you?”

“Not yet, actually.”

Nodding her head towards the front of the room, she took your hand sweetly. “That needs to change. You’ll love him.”

“I’m sure I will.” You laughed and eagerly followed her to their table before you could realize who else waited there. And by the time you saw the groomsman seated there, it was already too late.

“Hwitaek!” Jiyoo called as you both approached. “Come here, sweetie.”

Hwitaek, who was mid-conversation with the cause of your demise, patted said instigator on the back and looped around the table to come meet you. You fixated on him to keep your eyes from straying over to the man with the perfect face, and it seemed to work out okay.

“Hwitaek, this is my cousin, _____.” Jiyoo introduced you. “She caught the bouquet!”

“It’s so nice to meet you!” Hwitaek enthusiastically drew you into a hug, and you wondered if the extremely friendly gesture was at all fueled by alcohol. Maybe he was just a friendly guy. “Congratulations on the bouquet catch!”

“Thank you,” you laughed as he released you. “And congratulations to you on the marriage! That’s certainly a bigger deal than the flowers.”

He smiled sweetly, tucking Jiyoo under his arm. “Thank you. I’m a very lucky man. She’s my best friend.”

Jiyoo beamed, and your heart warmed. They were absolutely precious together, the love between them practically tangible. Maybe one day you could find a love like that.

Just then, the DJ came in with some shitty, generic pop song, and Jiyoo perked up. “Oh my gosh, I love this song! Let’s dance!” She started to pull both you and Hwitaek back towards the dance floor, but you returned to your default mode.

“I’m actually really thirsty, so I’m going to get some more to drink. But you two have fun!” It was much easier to slip out of Jiyoo’s grip than it was when Minseo held your wrist, and Jiyoo and Hwitaek carried on just fine without you.

And then you made the mistake of turning directly towards the hot groomsman.

You met his eyes and froze. Everything stopped. Your tongue dried up, nothing more than a hardened sponge in your mouth, and your pulse slowed to a halt. You were dead. Absolutely, unequivocally dead. Taken by the unmatched lethal power of a perfectly executed seductive gaze.

Jesus Christ, you were drowning in lust.

He raised an eyebrow at you, looking amused by the goldfish expression you bore. “Hi.”

Oh, dear Lord, even his voice was beautiful. You needed to get out of there fast. With a nod and awkward sort of salute, you took off, finding solace in the safety of your table. You plopped into your chair and practically inhaled the rest of your wine, dropping the bouquet onto the table and wondering how much longer you would have to suffer through this reception.

It would have been nice to have some relief. To get a moment to compose yourself and let your heart rate return to normal. But Minseo, the everloving bane of your existence, could not let that happen.

You spotted her on the dance floor. She looked over her shoulder back at you, a devilish expression on her face, and you realized that she was definitely up to no good.

Minseo had always been a troublemaker and bad influence over you. She was your closest cousin for sure, and had been a good friend of yours all your life. You loved her to death, but Jesus Christ she really knew how to push your buttons.

Born without a single shy bone in her body, she practically shimmied right up to the groomsmen, targeting the one with the sharp eyes and plush lips and dark, soft hair. The one with his sleeves rolled up, the one that you’re convinced is the most attractive man to ever exist. She zeroed in on him, leaning in far too close as she spoke into his ear. And then she pulled back only to point at you, and suddenly his eyes were locked on yours once more.

And this time, he smiled. Oh Lord in Heaven, he smiled. At you. And your heart went up in flames. Total destruction. There were no survivors.

You ripped your eyes from his, suddenly sweating profusely and somehow out of breath. Your trembling hands lifted the remainder of Minseo’s wine to your mouth and you sucked it all down, realizing that you were far too sober to make it through the night alive. And much to your terror, you set the empty glass onto the table and looked up to see him headed straight for you.

Panicked, you rose to your feet and took off in the opposite direction, hurtling yourself towards the bathroom so you could hide.

Once you burst through the door, you flicked cold water onto the back of your neck, wishing you could douse your whole face in it without messing up your makeup. Instead you just took a few deep breaths, trying to calm yourself because you were clearly overreacting in every sense of the word.

Why were you so terrified? He was just a guy, albeit a drop dead gorgeous one. That kind of beauty was frankly quite intimidating, though, and you just knew you’d look like an idiot if you had to say a single word to him.

You considered a plethora of escape routes, including begging your parents to drive you home early and climbing out of the small frosted-glass window right there in the corner of the bathroom. But were you really that much of a chicken? Were you really going to let one attractive guy scare you off?

Then you remembered the way he smiled, remembered the way you trembled at the sight of him. He intrigued you, piqued your interest. You were curious what he might be like as a person, a kisser, a lover. You nursed your lower lip between teeth, absolutely giddy at the thought of getting him alone. Sex with him would be incredible, no doubt about it.

Since when were you so shameless, imagining all sorts of lewd scenarios centering around a complete stranger, though gorgeous he may be? You didn’t do hookups. You didn’t do one night stands. Sleeping around was not your thing. But with him… you felt inclined to completely abandon your sense of morality. He sparked something within you that you hadn’t felt, well, probably ever.

That was likely why you were terrified enough to run and hide the second he turned his attention your way - because you had the vague feeling that you would let him do anything he wanted to you, and it’s both thrilling and frightening to know someone could have that kind of power. Especially when you don’t even know the man. Sure, you have a history of being unable to function properly around attractive males in your usual sober circumstances. But this was definitely more than just a fear of looking a fool. It was you avoiding the dangerous call of forbidden pleasures and the path to losing your morality. But most of all, it was the distress over the unsettling feeling that you might actually be okay with stepping out of your comfort zone if it meant you could experience him.

You just weren’t sure how to deal with any of that.

As class wraps up, you pack up your things and wonder if you should say something to him. Should you acknowledge what happened between you? Or would it be best to just ignore it, pretend like it never happened? Maybe you should just let him take the lead on this one.

Before you can really decide one way or the other, Shinhye starts making a scene. “You know, ______, maybe you’re right to be second guessing this class. I’m not sure an eight AM is good for you. Did you pay attention at all?”

“It’s not a big deal, Shinhye, honest.” You speak quietly but harshly, your words carrying more bite than you intend. You glance up at Professor Yang, who is also gathering his things. If he’s eavesdropping on the conversation, he certainly gives no sign of it.

“Really? I’ve never seen you so distracted. Maybe bring a coffee next week. He said he’ll allow drinks in the classroom.”

You sling your backpack over your shoulder, muttering under your breath. “Come on, let’s get going.”

“Alright, now she’s awake!” Shinhye grabs her bag and leads the way.

As you follow her to the door, you peek over at Professor Yang again. He’s busying himself with unplugging his laptop from the projector, and he doesn’t even spare a glance your way as you exit the room. You hate the way your chest tightens, almost as if you’re disappointed.

You catch up to Shinhye and follow her to the dining hall to grab some brunch. Class was scheduled until noon but he dismissed early, stating that the four hour classes were only really necessary during the workshop half of the semester and you’ll likely be free to go around eleven until then.

You don’t exactly feel hungry, though, your stomach too full of nerves to desire any food. So you sit at the table with only a coffee, per Shinhye’s recommendation. You probably do need it, honestly.

“How old do you think Professor Yang is? He looks awfully young to be teaching at a university.” Shinhye tears into her omelette.

Well, he’s friends with Hwitaek, who you believe to be in his mid-twenties, so maybe he’s around there too? But you can’t bring any of that up without divulging exactly what had occurred between the two of you. “He does look pretty young.”

“He said he studied and worked as a luthier for the last ten years… I feel like he has to be in his late twenties at least, but he certainly doesn’t look it. Or maybe he just started his apprenticeship pretty young. I wonder if there’s an age requirement for that sort of thing?”

“A luthier?” You question, not familiar with the term.

Shinhye cocks her head. “Yeah, ______. A luthier. Professor Yang talked all about it. You really weren’t paying attention, were you?”

“I guess not.” You chew your bottom lip. Your head really was somewhere else all morning.

Thankfully Shinhye fills you in without dragging you too much. “A luthier is someone who makes string instruments. Professor Yang explained all about how he did this luthier apprenticeship and how he specializes in making guitars when he’s not teaching.”

“That’s actually really cool,” you murmur. You imagine what he must look like playing guitar, or working with tools in the workshop, and you can’t help but feel impressed just picturing about it. A thought occurs to you, and you accidentally verbalize, “Oh that makes so much sense!”

“What does?”

You clamp your mouth shut. You can’t tell Shinhye that you understand now why his hands felt so rough when they slid under your dress, how you know exactly where each callous resides on his fingers. Somehow you manage to rescue yourself with, “It makes sense that he’s teaching something like this, you know, because obviously someone who has so much experience should be the one to teach the class. It’s just obvious. So like, it makes sense.”

Shinhye shakes her head slowly. “I just don’t get you.”

Maybe you’ll tell her one day. But it just seems unnecessary, especially because it’s bad news that you’ve ever been involved with a professor. The fewer people that know, the better.

After camping out in the restroom of the hotel for an appropriate amount of time, you finally gathered your wits about you and headed out into the wild once more. You had reasoned with yourself, finally coming to the conclusion that you were a grown(ish) woman who did not need to hide from boys. Instead, you would handle yourself like a true grown(ish) woman and boost your morale with a little (albeit illegal) liquid courage.

You headed straight for the bar, posting up there and chugging a glass of wine before immediately ordering another. Ah, to be a lady.

As you accepted your second glass, a voice next to you asked for a bourbon. You were thankful you did not have any wine in your mouth as you looked up to find none other than the most beautiful man in the world standing next to you - you definitely would have spit it out all over him. He smiled warmly at you, and if it didn’t feel like your knees were about to give out, you definitely would have sprinted back to the restroom, grown(ish) woman morale be damned.

He must have sensed your self-consciousness because he said with a laugh, “Please don’t run away from me again. I promise I don’t bite.”

You immediately squashed the thought of oh I wish you would, refusing to let that little gem slip past your lips. Instead you just took a long drink, completely unsure of what to say.

He wasn’t dissuaded by your silence, though, and you weren’t positive if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Leaning against the counter, he turned his body to face you, calm confidence pouring out from him in waves. “Your cousin said you wanted to dance with me, but that you might need some convincing. I’m not so persistent that I won’t take no for an answer, so if you say no I’ll leave you alone. But I thought I should at least try for a yes.”

The way his lips formed his words absolutely hypnotized you. How could a person be so stunning?

“I thought if nothing else, I might be able to at least have a conversation with you. I didn’t expect it to be quite so challenging, though. Usually it’s easy to get girls to talk to me.”

You snapped out of your dazed state with a laugh, your jaw dropping at his bold assertion. “That’s incredibly cocky of you to say, don’t you think?”

He shrugged casually. “It got you to talk, didn’t it?”

You took another sip, eyebrow raised. Touché.

“So what’s it going to take to get you to dance with me?” He smiled that beautiful, breathtaking smile of his, and it intoxicated you. Or maybe it was just the wine finally kicking in. Either way, you were hopeless. Looking away from you briefly, he accepted the short glass of amber liquid the bartender handed him, and you admired the strong line of his jaw and neck as he nodded his thanks.

Holding tightly onto your glass, you ripped your gaze from him before he could turn back to you and mulled over his inquiry. If you drank any more wine, it would probably be fairly easy for him to get you to dance, but you knew better than to spill those beans. So you respond to his question with a much safer answer: “Maybe a different DJ.”

He laughed warmly, and the sound of it turned your world upside down. “Yeah, he’s not great. Any wedding DJ that’s got ‘Y.M.C.A.’ on their playlist should not be a wedding DJ.”

You lifted your glass in agreement, intrigued. “I’ll drink to that. If you’re going to play something from the seventies, at least make it good. Give me some Marvin Gaye, or Donna Summer. Maybe a little Rufus with Chaka Khan for extra brownie points.”

His eyes tracked over your face as he clinked his glass against yours. “Some Earth, Wind and Fire, perhaps?”

Sucking air through your teeth, you squinted disapprovingly. “They can get a little campy.”

“Excuse you, ‘Boogie Wonderland’ is a classic.”

“About as classic as ‘Y.M.C.A.’” You snarked back at him, surprised by how at ease you were beginning to feel. The wine had definitely kicked in. Your brain felt warm and fuzzy, your limbs pleasantly tingly. “You know what’s cool?”

“Hm?” The glass in his hand met his lips and somewhere in the back of your mind you registered a touch of jealousy. Over a damn glass. What the literal shit.

You shook your head as quickly and minutely as possible to clear your thoughts and get back on track with what you wanted to say. “Um… Ah, wedding bands. Why don’t people hire bands anymore? Get some live music going. That’s awesome. That’s what’s good.”

“You’re really passionate about music, aren’t you?” Soft endearment coated his voice like honey, his sweet eyes scanning your face and making your heart flutter.

You nodded, shyness creeping up on you once again. He was miles out of your league, and it was honestly unreal that he’d even give you the time of day. Yet there he was, talking to you like you actually had a chance. Well… maybe you actually did.

An effortlessly sexy grin tugged at his lips. “So I know there’s not a wedding band tonight, and we’ve already established that this DJ kind of sucks… but is there any chance I could get you to dance with me despite all of that?”

And there it was - your chance. He could have very easily dropped the idea of dancing altogether after chatting with you and forming a more educated opinion of you. But the conversation must have gone okay because he still wanted to dance. And there he was, smiling all pretty and waiting for a response and you knew that you didn’t exactly have a choice when he looked at you that way.

“Let me finish this first.” Your voice sounded a lot more steady and confident than you expected, which left you pleasantly surprised with yourself.

“That’s fair.” He nodded and took a sip of his drink, finally looking away and giving you a chance to breathe. Changing the subject, he asked, “You here for the bride or groom? My guess is bride, since I haven’t seen you before.”

“Bride. She’s my cousin. And I’m guessing you’re with the groom, for obvious reasons.” You gestured to his tux, the symbol of his relationship to the groom.

“Perceptive,” he teased. “Yeah, he’s a long time friend of mine.”

With a big gulp of wine, you nodded. Almost done. You were really doing this. “They seem like a good pair. I hadn’t met Hwitaek until today - maybe thirty minutes ago, actually. But he seems like a good guy and she’s definitely happy.”

“Ah, right, I think I saw you meeting him.”

You froze up, remembering the awkward staring contest that followed your introduction to Hwitaek. With an uncomfortable chuckle, you spit out, “Right, I think you did.”

Now there was something more mischievous in his grin, and you knew he brought that up on purpose to see how you’d react. Pleased, he took another drink, and you were bewitched by the way his adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “I see them together a lot, and they’re a perfect match. Hwitaek is very good to Jiyoo, don’t worry. And she’s great, she fits right in with the whole lot of us.”

“That’s good to hear.” You were relieved that he didn’t linger on the subject - your life wasn’t over yet. So you smiled, finally on your last sip. You throw it back, and the warm buzz at the corners of your mind gave you the confidence you needed to place your empty glass on the bar counter and face him. “What’s your name?”

“Hongseok. Yours?” He smirked, effectively chipping away at your newfound courage, and finished off his own drink.

“_____.”

“_____,” he repeated your name, testing it out on his tongue, and it sounded absolutely wonderful. You needed to hear it once more, and you made it your personal goal to make him say it again before the end of the night. He held out his arm for you to take, stirring up the tipsy butterflies in your stomach. “Shall we?”

With a shaky inhale, you hooked your hand in the crook of his elbow, noting the way his bicep bulged. You were signing your life away for the night and you had absolutely no idea what you were getting yourself into.

Hongseok.

Professor Hongseok Yang.

You throw yourself back onto your bed, tossing your Physics of Musical Instruments syllabus to the floor. It’s been two days and you still haven’t come to terms with the pickle you’re in. The secret is eating you alive from the inside out, and you’re dying to talk about it.

Briefly, you even consider emailing Hong- no, Professor Yang, but you know you can’t just send incriminating emails over the school’s server. That would be about as bad of an idea as sleeping with your professor in the first place.

You’re trying not to chastise yourself too much about it. At the time, you had no idea he taught at your university. If you had, you definitely would have refused to visit his hotel room. You wouldn’t have even danced with him. You know how to behave responsibly, but you let yourself live a bit more freely that night and now you’re paying the price.

Maybe you needed to tell Shinhye after all. You just needed someone to know what you were dealing with, because it felt too burdensome for you to hold on your own. If just one person could know and understand-

Minseo.

Jumping to your feet, you scramble out to the living room and tear up your desk in search of your cell phone. When you finally found the device, you immediately video call your beloved cousin.

She answers after a few rings. “What’s up, boo?”

You almost start crying, already feeling relieved just by having her on the line. “Minseoooo! Are you alone right now?”

“Yeah, I’m at my apartment. You okay?” She frowns, peering closely at her screen.

You push your hair back with a sigh. How do you say this? “I’ve made a mistake. A terrible, terrible mistake.”

“What is it?”

“Remember the groomsman from Jiyoo’s wedding?”

As soon as you mention him, her eyes grow wide. She covers her mouth, but not enough to muffle her words. “Oh my God, don’t tell me you’re pregnant.”

“What? No!” You shake your head emphatically. “No, I swear I’m not pregnant.”

“Oh thank God, because that would be just the worst.”

She’s right, though; that would be the actual worst case scenario. Your current situation might be bad, but at least there’s no fetus involved. With that bit of perspective, you proceed a bit more calmly. “So… it turns out that the groomsman teaches at my university. And I’m taking his class.”

Minseo stares at her phone for a moment, and then suddenly bursts into laughter. “You’ve got to be kidding me. For real?”

“For real.”

More laughter. “What are the odds of that? Jesus. You finally get laid for the first time since high school and it’s with your fucking teacher…”

Her lighthearted response actually makes you feel better, and you let yourself laugh about it too. “It’s crazy, right?”

“Insane!” Her black cat poked her head into the frame, and Minseo scratched her between her ears. “So wait, what happened? How did class go? Has he said anything about it?”

“He didn’t say a word, and neither did I. He basically ignored me all through class. And I think it’s a good thing? But also I kind of want to just talk about it? Because I feel like it’s going to be incredibly awkward if we have to go through the whole semester without even addressing it.”

“You should say something to him, then. Just tell him that you’re not going to say anything about what happened, and tell him that you want him to treat you normally. I mean, that’s what you want, right?”

You nod. “Right. I should probably do that, as uncomfortable as it may be.”

Minseo tilts her head, looking at you endearingly. “You can handle it. You’re a strong little lady. You just have to believe it.”

Finally, a relieved exhale leaves you. “Minseo, I feel so much better now that you know. I haven’t told anyone here about what happened and it was killing me.”

“I’m glad I could help. You should probably keep it a secret at school, though. Word can really spread fast across a campus.” Her cat meows quietly in agreement.

“Good plan. This stays between you and me.” You hold up your little finger as if to make a pinky promise, and she follows suit.

“Our little secret.”

The first days of the rest of your classes all pale in comparison to that eventful Tuesday morning. Physics of Musical Instruments is your only class in the science building, so thankfully you don’t have to worry about accidentally passing him every other day of the week. That should also be your most difficult class this semester, with a required writing class and second levels of aural skills and music theory making up the rest of your schedule. Add in your weekly piano lessons and R&B Ensemble practices, and you’ve got a lot on your hands. But you’re generally looking forward to your sophomore year, regardless of the whole mess with Professor Yang.

And it really doesn’t need to be a mess, anyway. You’ll have your chat with him, you can both move on, and it’ll all be moot in the end. At least, that’s what you tell yourself as you head into the weekend, knowing full well you’ll have to face him again in a matter of days and it won’t be easy.

Saturday afternoon is the music department’s convocation for the start of the semester. You take a seat in the auditorium of the music building, the ensemble on stage providing the entertainment as students file in. It’s the pride of the otherwise average music department, the upperclassman Jazz Ensemble, which you hope you’ll be accepted into next school year. If you do well with your own ensemble this year, you could definitely stand a chance. Besides, the current keyboardist will be graduating at the end of the school year, so there will definitely be an open spot waiting for you.

A familiar looking boy approaches you, all cheekbones and bright eyes. “Hi, can I sit there?” He gestures to the seat next to you, and you nod, standing to let him squeeze past you. When you’re both seated, he says, “I think I saw you in theory and aural skills, right?”

That’s why he looks so familiar! “Oh, yes! I remember you. Hi.” You greet him warmly, glad to have a fellow classmate to keep you company.

“I’m Kino.” He extends his hand to you. “Sophomore, studying voice and dance.”

“______, piano.” You shake his hand, and he smiles sweetly. “Also a sophomore.”

“Nice to meet you, officially.” Kino drops his backpack onto the floor between his legs and looks up at the stage. “Wow, Jazz Ensemble never disappoints.”

“You’ve got that right. You should have heard the Thelonious Monk tune they played before this one. They killed it.”

“I can believe that.” He looks over at you. Does he ever stop smiling? “Are you in any ensembles this semester?”

“Yeah, R&B.”

“No way! Me, too!” He laughs, and the sound of it is warm and pure. “I hardly convinced them to let me join, though. Being a double major keeps me really busy, but I was desperate to get into an ensemble this year.”

You laugh too, enjoying the way he makes you feel at ease. “I guess we’ll be seeing a lot of each other, then.”

“Sounds like it.”

The auditorium doors close as the last of the students scramble into seats, and you clap as the ensemble finishes their last song, a Miles Davis classic. One day it’ll be you on that stage. One day you’ll get to really make your mark.

The meeting itself isn’t really anything special. It’s mostly just to welcome everyone to a new school year and explain the basic requirements of a music major. Each semester you must attend no less than five student performances, but that’s nothing intimidating to you. You love going to student performances, so you’ll likely have all five knocked out before you reach the second half of the semester.

Toward the end of the meeting, the head of the department announces that he would like to introduce the new staff for the year. Three new professors file out from the wing, and you bite down on your lip to prevent your jaw from dropping, shocked to see Professor Yang among them. Why is he here? He’s in the science department, not music.

He is the first to step up to the microphone to introduce his class, and your heart just about jumps out of your chest at the sound of his voice. “Hello everyone, I’m Professor Yang. Although I’m not technically a part of the music department, I have a feeling you may all find an interest in my course, Physics of Musical Instruments. It will help fulfill half of your required science credits while still allowing you to explore music. In my course you will not only learn the science of scales, tonality, and sound waves, but you will also be given the opportunity to build your own instrument. I’m very grateful to be able to share my knowledge of instruments and sound with you. My class for this semester filled up very quickly, so please keep an eye out for it when you’re preparing your schedules for next semester. Thank you, and I look forward to seeing you in class.”

He is so professional, and you’re taken aback by how different he is in a professional setting. At the wedding he was so carefree, although he certainly carried the same amount of confidence. Regardless, your pulse is getting out of control the longer you watch him, and you’re so thankful for the cloak of darkness in the auditorium.

Kino leans over toward you, whispering lowly, “That class sounds awesome!”

You just nod, fixated on Professor Yang. He’s dressed a bit more casually today, wearing a pair of snug fitting jeans with his partially unbuttoned button-down, a v-neck shirt peeking out from the space where the button-down separates at his collar bone. His sleeves are rolled up, just like they were at the wedding. It would feel so good to rip off those clothes, to hear the buttons of his shirt break off and fall to the floor as you strip him. The thought sends searing heat through you, and you nonchalantly cross your legs. Yes, this semester is definitely going to be a tough one for you.

Kino takes off as soon as the assembly ends, blurting that he has to get to his dance department’s convocation. And as you eventually make your way out of the auditorium, you’re thankful that you’re on your own.

Professor Yang is in the lobby, chatting with another faculty member as students filter past. And for absolutely no reason at all, he happens to look in your direction just as you notice him. He looks at you long and hard with a completely unreadable expression, and you gaze back, trying to keep your face similarly neutral. Trying not to let him see how badly affected you are just to be in the same room as him. Trying to pretend that you don’t wish you could get him naked again, feel his body on yours again.

You may never know if you are successful in controlling your features. You pull your eyes from him long before you can pick up on any clues and bolt for the door, simultaneously relieved and saddened to know he will not follow you.

Hongseok led you to the dance floor and pulled you around to face him. The DJ was still doing a terrible job, but with his hand on your waist and alcohol buzzing through your veins, you managed to find it within you to dance. You swayed your hips, bopping to the beat, your hands eventually coming to rest on his broad shoulders.

His hands grew more and more adventurous in their placement with each song that passed. You didn’t mind one bit, enjoying the way he casually explored your back, thighs, and neck. Your own hands slid down over his muscled chest and abdomen, which you could clearly feel even through his layers of clothing. If only you could touch his skin…

You were completely taken by him, heart pounding pleasantly in your chest as warmth spread throughout your body. Why had you been so afraid before? Everything had turned out to be nothing short of wonderful. Even if it stopped at dancing and went no further (which was exactly what you expected to happen), you still could leave knowing you had a great time with an incredibly hot guy that you could fantasize about later to your heart’s content.

You still couldn’t believe that he would even give you the time of day, yet there he was, dancing far too close for your feeble heart to handle - not that you were complaining. His features were even more striking up close; you could easily memorize the straight line of his nose, the exact shape of his lips, the curve of his chin. You didn’t know what you had done in a previous life to deserve his attention, but you were endlessly thankful.

As elated as you were to be there with him, though, you couldn’t help but wonder how he really felt, what exactly he thought about you. After all, it’s not like he had just walked up to you of his own accord. Surely it was all your cousin’s doing and no true luck of your own. “Hongseok?”

“_____?”

You nearly shiver at the sound of your name. “Are you only dancing with me because my cousin asked you to?”

He narrowed his eyes at you, as if trying to decipher the true meaning behind your questioning. “Yes and no.”

“Okay?”

The DJ played a slower song next, and Hongseok took the opportunity to pull you up against him, wrapping his arm around your waist and taking your hand in his. His fingers were rough and calloused, but gentle as they wrapped around your hand. “You didn’t really seem too eager to talk to me after you met Hwitaek, so I wasn’t going to bother you.”

You swallowed hard, mouth suddenly dry from nerves. You had almost ruined this for yourself, and you had no idea.

He continued his explanation. “So technically yes, it was your cousin’s idea that convinced me to say something to you. But if I hadn’t wanted to dance with you, I would have told her no. I wouldn’t have even asked you if I wasn’t interested.”

Thoughts manifested into words before you could stop them, and you cursed your intoxicated tongue. “Interested… in me? Like, you think I’m cute, or something?”

“You could say that.” His laugh brought a smile to your face. “What about you? Do you think I’m cute, or something?”

You should have cut yourself off after the second glass of wine. You didn’t drink often, and you didn’t have much of a tolerance, as made evident by the shameless, bold compliment that spilled from your lips. “Cute? You’re beautiful and I am very attracted to you.”

You only caught a hint of his charming smile before he pulled you in even tighter and lowered his mouth until it brushed the cusp of your ear. Gravelly undertones lined the edges of his voice as he murmured, “I don’t want to cause a scene - this is a family affair, after all - so I’m going to have to let you do your own thing for the rest of the night. But I want you to know that I am incredibly attracted to you, and I need you to find your way upstairs to room 417 after we send off the happy couple. Can you do that for me?”

You nodded without hesitation, speechless at his incredibly forward instructions, your alcohol-dulled mind still able to piece together the implications of his invitation. Damn all of your fears and concerns; Hongseok was a dream and you’d never forgive yourself if you passed on the chance that had been afforded you. Come hell or high water, you would get to room 417. How could you say no? Surely your sober self would thank your tipsy self for it later.

“Great.” His low, sensual voice filled you, his breath tickling your ear as he straightened up and released you. With a wink, he disappeared into the throng of partygoers, and you nibbled at your bottom lip as you wobbled towards your table. You needed to collapse into your chair, unable to hold yourself up after the assault of his charms.

Before you could reach the table, though, you spotted Minseo, and steered yourself in her direction instead. You grabbed onto her arm, ripping her from the rest of your cousins.

“Please don’t kill me, I swear I was only trying to do you a favor.” She misinterpreted your excitement as aggression, flinching when you leaned in.

“No, I love you, you’re the best, I’m sorry I ever doubted you. I think I’m gonna get laid tonight.” You giggled to yourself, feeling warm and airy. “He told me to go up to his room later.”

“There you go, girl!” She whacked your arm playfully, looking you up and down. “Go get it and then give me all the details tomorrow because honestly he’s gorgeous and I just have to know what’s going on under those clothes.”

“Ohmygod me tooooo…” you drawled. You were losing your mind just thinking about it. “Oh, um, hey, can you cover for me? I’m gonna tell my parents I’m spending the night at your place.”

She nodded, and then her face lit up. “Better idea! Let’s get our own room upstairs. Then you can come to our room after.”

You blinked owlishly. “Right.”

Minseo caught onto your hesitation. “Unless you plan on actually staying the night?”

“...No? Because… sleeping over… would that be weird?”

“Probably. I’m guessing he’ll just want to hook up and be done with it. So we should go see if there are any rooms available. Yeah?”

Minseo had a good point; it could get weird if you tried to overstay your welcome, so having another room to retreat to would be the best course of action. You came to the wedding with your parents, so you wouldn’t be able to get yourself home if you stayed at the hotel longer than everyone else. And you wouldn’t expect Minseo to leave her apartment and drive all the way back to pick you up after... You nodded and squeezed her hand. “Okay, that’s a good plan. Did I tell you you’re the best?”

“You might have mentioned it.” She started leading you by the hand towards the lobby. “Let’s go get that room and then head back to the bar before you chicken out.”

Post Script | Thank you for reading! Part 2 will be posted Friday at 8pm.

Update | Read Part 2 here!

THIS FIC IS REPOSTED FROM MY ORIGINAL BLOG, GWENTORY. All future content (including HFT Part 4 and onward) will only be posted on GWENTORYFICS. Thank you!

#hongseok #yang hongseok #hongseok smut #yang hongseok smut #hongseok scenario #pentagon smut #pentagon scenario #hyunggu scenario #hyunggu #kino #kino scenario #kang hyunggu #kang hyunggu scenario #yang hongseok scenario #hot for teacher #hft

147 notes · View notes

anorakofavalon · 5 years

Text

The Best of Mergana Fanfiction According to a Veteran

Foreword:

So, for context, this all comes from an email I sent a friend in which I talked about the nature of fanfiction for 14 pages (sad as that is). I felt that two fandoms in particular were extremely well-rounded and hyper-representative of the fanfiction community. Those two fandoms were Harry Potter and Merlin.

Since 2012, I have "favorited" (which does not take into account the various ones I did not favorite nor the various re-reads of the ones I love) 276 fics. This leads to a grand total of 29, 704, 142 words read (approximately 74, 590 pages worth of stories).

And because of all that I think I've managed to categorize Fanfiction into 5 basic types / purposes. If you want to know about those, I'll make another post. But I marked which categories these fanfictions in the list are. You can ignore that.

Moreover, almost all of my fics are long. And by long I mean upwards of 150,000 words on average. The lower extreme is 80,000 words, and the upper is 750,000 words. for reference: Percy Jackson and the Lightning Thief is 87,223 words long. Meanwhile, War and Peace is 561, 304 words long. What I mean is, some of these are very long. But make no mistake, they're all terribly compelling.

And as you probably know, most of Merlin fanfiction is somewhat...steamy. Sorry, not much I can do about that. But the stories are amazing.

Without further adue, here are my top 8 of all time. (I can extend the list since I have 87 more I love but these are the best of the best)

---

1. Title: Throw Out the Script

Categories: 2, 4, 5

Description: Destiny says they go one way. They say they go another. Merlin/Morgana, 2x03 Divergence AU.

Ship: Merlin/Morgana

Word Count: 157,000 words

Note: This was my first ever exposure to Merlin fanfiction. Amazing. I read this because I couldn't handle the events of Season 2 Episode 12. Perfect segway into Merlin fanfiction.

2. Title: The Coins Saga (Two Sides of the Same Coin)

Categories: 1, 2, 4, 5

Description: Arthur is certain someone is standing in the shadows, assisting them with magic. Will Merlin be discovered? Bromance! Reveal! Spoilers for episodes up to 5x04 "Another's Sorrow.

Ship: Merlin/Morgana

Word Count: 3,000 words (in this particular fic. Other parts of the series are much longer.)

Note: I can not tell you how amazing this series is. It adopts some major elements from the old folk tales, poems, and Arthurian myths and imports them into the TV Show. It's one of my favorite literary series' of all time.

3. Title: The Sorcerer's Bride

Categories: 2, 5

Description: AU in which Merlin is a prince, Morgana isn't evil, and they're forced to marry to secure a peace treaty between their kingdoms. They try to make the best of their situation, and maybe they'll even find love in the process.

Ship: Merlin/Morgana

Word Count: 190,000 words

Note: Total AU.

4. Title: Bound by Fate

Categories: 2, 3, 5

Description: Sequel to Morgana's Servant. AU. Set after season 4, but before season 5. Explicit. Redemption fic. Some Arwen. Camelot rejoices as it's most dangerous foe is captured and put in chains, but Merlin is finding himself drawn to her once again. Magic calls to magic and they are each other's destiny. Complete.

Ship: Merlin/Morgana

Word Count: 318,000 words

Note: Okay, I've tried to avoid this, but the fact is that this is a fantastic story. One of the best. However, it is rated R. Hard R. And the fic that comes before it, Morgana's Servant, is basically just erotica. But it turns into an amazing plot in this fic. If you're uncomfortable with that, then you can skip this one. Again, I must stress, this is an R rated story. R. R. R. So, very very very inappropriate.

5. Title: The Destiny Trilogy (Forks in the Path to Destiny)

Categories: 2, 5

Description: A magical group called the Order of the Bear has appeared. It seems they strive for what Merlin is working for: Peace between magic and nonmagic people. Now Merlin's loyalties are being divided as Arthur himself has choices to make on the users of magic. Will it all lead to war especially when there are those that desire it? Post S4. Warning: Camelot bashing

Ship: Merlin/Morgana

Word Count: 156,000 words

Note: This Trilogy is amazing (and less R rated than Bound by Fate), but be warned, this first book will piss you off. It pissed me off. They just bashed and bashed and bashed Camelot. But it gets better. Legendarily better.

6. Title: The Warlock's Quickening

Categories: 4, 5

Description: Merlin might have come to Camelot to master his magic, not to end the Purge, but he's not going to sit idly by while his kin suffer. Oh no. Whether it's releasing a chained dragon, smuggling sorcerers out of the city, or trying to change Arthur's mind, he's fighting back. Now. Series rewrite beginning after 1X02 featuring Proactive!Merlin. AU.

Ship: Merlin/Morgana

Word Count: 139,000 words

Note: First book in a series. The second book is a work in progress, but the author updates consistently. Beyond perfect. The definition of a Fix-It! story. I love it. It's hilarious and enthralling. How the show would've gone if logic was used.

7. Title: A Challenging Hostage

Categories: 2, 5

Description: Young Merlin's magic is observed in Ealdor by Queen Annis, and he's offered adoption and the throne. Merlin learns what it means to be a prince and an enemy of Camelot - til the day he's captured by Prince Arthur's border patrol. Uther holds a prisoner with magic that he can't afford to execute, and Arthur meets a rational sorcerer for the first time. No slash.

Ship: Merlin/Freya

Word Count: 127,000 words (and counting)

Note: It's fantastic, thus far. But also a work in progress.

8. Title: Change of Heart

Categories: 2, 5

Description: Starting with Morgana's cure in "The Crystal Cave," what happens when she "sees" who cures her and confronts him? What happened to her that changed her from kind to killer? And does she want to change her heart again when she realizes people aren't what she thought they were? Continues through the rest of S3 and goes a bit AU. Mergana and Arwen included

Ship: Merlin/Morgana

Word Count: 64,000 words

Note: Part of a trilogy. Good!

#merlin x morgana #mergana #bbcmerlin #colin morgan #katie mcgrath #mermor #bbcmorgana #merlin #morgana #fanfiction #fandom #ficrec #my fic recs #bbc merlin

85 notes · View notes

jhsbrat · 5 years

Text

stories that never were pt. 2

your ex sucks- in more ways than one

genre: stories that never were pt. 2, magic/fantasy au

word count: 1,139

warnings: mentions of death, evil vampire yoongi

“Are you absolutely sure this is going to work?” Jimin asks quietly from beside you, steady hands picking out herbs from their velvet pouches, delicately placing each one in its respective spot. That’s how he did everything, carefully. He wished he could just go back to using those steady hands in surgery instead of magic.

You huff, turning pages in the leather-bound tome you were flipping through faster. “It’s not an exact science, Minnie.”

“Well, that’s very comforting!” Jin yells from his side of the salt line.

You whip around to look at the other man, stationed meters away with a pile of stakes and a scowl on his face. “This is a private conversation, Suckjin.”

“Nothing’s private with me. Werewolf hearing, remember?”

You roll your eyes and turn back to your grimoire. “How could I forget, you remind us every chance you get.”

Jin snaps his canines together, eyes glowing. “What are you even doing over there?

“Baking biscuits, what the fuck does it look like I’m doing,” you mutter under your breath.

“I heard that!”

“I know!” You grit out, eyes scanning the page of the spell you landed on. “Aha, found it!”

Thunder clapped in the distance. It felt loud enough to shake the building. Jimin looks up and takes a deep breath, praying to every god he knows and then some.

“Oh, please, being religious now isn’t going to save you,” you snark, ripping out the page you found and shoving it in your brother’s face. “But this might.”

His eyes go wide as they move down the page, reading the instructions and materials required of the spell. “No, no fucking way-“

“C’mon, you wimp, it’s not like I can really die now anyways, right?”

He looks desperately back at you. “But it-it says-“

“I know what it says, I’m not Jared, 19. Just do it, I promise, it will work.”

A screeching sound rings in the distance, making the hairs on your arms go up on end. Jimin’s eyes go even wider than before if it were possible. Jin whips around to face the two of you, teeth dangerously sharp now.

“This really isn’t the time for meme references, dumbasses. Jimin, do the damn spell,” he growls.

The witch inhales deeply and nods, kneeling back down onto the ground to begin. You lean down to finish the protection spell he had started, hands not nearly as steady and smooth as his.

“Don’t worry, Minnie, when this is all over, you can go back to saving people’s lives the normal way.” You tell him gently, shaking out the last of a pouch.

He stops for a moment and turns to you. “You know, you called me that right before mom died. And again before Jinri left.”

You continue shaking out the empty pouch, not meeting his gaze. It doesn’t deter him.

“Call me crazy, but it’s almost like you say it when you know something bad is about to happen-“

Right at that moment, the oak wood doors blow open on their hinges, wind howling into the room. A slender figure steps lightly over the threshold.

“Well, there goes our theory about consecrated ground.” Jimin whispers, looking back down and scratching the runes from the page you ripped into the wooden floorboards faster, their fragmented shapes simultaneously unfamiliar and recognizable to him.

You laugh hollowly, scattering the last of the herbs over the pentagram you drew, then pull yourself into a standing position. A spark of lightning lit up the room, illuminating the vampire’s face as he walked through the church’s entrance, humming a disjointed tune softly. He stops a few feet away, white teeth shining bright.

“’Dark was the night, cold was the ground’, isn’t that how the song went?” The figure asks from the shadows, voice gravelly.

“Very fitting, since the cold ground is where you’re about to go, asshole!” Jin shouts.

“Shut up, idiot.” You grumble, walking up next to him, still behind the salt line.

Yoongi grins, stepping closer into the moonlight cast through a stained glass window. “Very cute couple, like a fairy tale. Beauty…” he glances at you for a moment, gaze laden with something you couldn’t define before turning towards Jin. “And you must be the Beast.”

“Me and her? As if.” Jin snorts, twirling a wooden stake in his hand.

The end of Yoongi’s lip quirks up. “As if, indeed.” His eyes return to you as he steps even closer, now on the very edge of the salt line.

“Try me, and I won’t hesitate, bitch.” Jin threatened, holding up the stake and poised to throw.

“Oh, I’m absolutely sure you wouldn’t, Pluto.” Yoongi retorts, eyes still locked with your own. You stare right back, determined to not falter despite your breath picking up speed. The world stopped and for a moment, it was only you and him standing in that church. The two of you were buoyed up in a bubble of crystal non-reality, transported back into a time and place before the violence you knew of now. A glimmer of sunlight, the scent of pinecones and moss. The warmth of skin that has since gone dead and cold.

“Hello, my love.” The vampire murmurs.

The sound of the pet name shoved you back into the present, the smell of iron and rust emanating off the man in front of you a sharp reminder of what had been lost and what was yet to come.

“You lost the right to call me that a long time ago, dickwad.” You cross your arms over your chest, hoping it could muffle the sound of your rapidly beating heart from his ears.

He just chuckles and reaches a hand up to cradle your cheek, cold skin meeting marble. “You can end all of this, you know. Just come with me. It would be so easy. We both long for the dark, don’t we?”

You snort and step back, allowing his hand to fall down to his side. “You and I want very different things, Yoongi.”

He stares hard, gaze unwavering. “Is that your final answer?”

You glare back, mouth set in a straight line. Beside you, bones crack as Jin hunches over and transforms. From behind, you hear Jimin wince as he cuts open his palm and completes the spell. There’s a thrumming in your head and your heartbeat slows.

“You couldn’t have expected anything less, Yoongi,” you say softly, fingers wrapping around the stake hidden in your coat pocket.

For a moment, his eyes dim to their old shade of brown and you feel as though you’re staring into the face of your fiancé again. Then the wind picks up, blowing into the decrepit old building and bringing with it the stench of death.

“Then so be it,” the vampire says sadly and steps over the salt line.

e/n: this was meant to be light-hearted and funny and then it turned into.......this lmao

#bts #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts scenario #bts imagine #dark was the night #stories that never were #yoongi fanfic #yoongi scenario #yoongi fanfiction #yoongi imagine

48 notes · View notes

dinoswrites · 6 years

Text

The Lovers, Reversed

The Arcana, Role Reversal AU. Asra x Apprentice.

Based off this post by @cedarmoons.

[Previous | Masterpost | A03 | Next]

This references some events that happen in a snippet @cedarmoons wrote for me, and it’s beautiful so you should read that first if you like. <3

The Lovers reversed indicates that you are avoiding responsibility for the consequences of your own actions... You must do what you can to make amends but if this is not possible, let the past go and resolve to make better choices in the future. [x]

It’s another maddeningly grey Vesuvia morning, and Asra is climbing the back wall to the old shop.

Second time he’s done so in as many days—and it’s hard not to let old memories resurface as he swings one leg over the top, and looks down at the overgrown garden, at the rain rippling the water of the reflecting pool.

He remembers it so clearly he can almost see her there. Can almost see the moonlight reflecting in the pool’s clear, still waters, and its shine in her hair as she looks up, and her whole face light up for a moment, before she schools her expression.

My aunt says that you’re trouble.

Me? Oh, it’s the hair, isn’t it? Should I cut it? Is it too long?

To this day, he remembers perfectly the coyness of her smile—he’s seen it countless times since, and heard her laugh nearly as often.

Not nearly enough, he thinks, looking down at the rain in the garden.

He hangs his scarf and cloak by the door, not before chasing any leftover rain from them with an absent-minded spell. He has to step around a large woven basket that’s overflowing with fruit harvested from the garden before he can look into the shop—finding it exactly as he left it. Every jar still in its place, every ingredient still on display.

He is not surprised to see the tarot cards missing from where he left them on the table, but the sight does bring a smile to his face.

Upstairs, the stove salamander has already built up a rolling flame, chasing the rain chill out of the room. Asra can smell lapsang souchong in the air, and as he lets Faust slip off his arm to go find her favourite pillow he spots Kai curled up on the couch, a cup in one hand and one of the books he’d leant her open on the armrest, her fingertip running along the page as she reads.

She’s wrapped up in one of her old shawls. The cream one, with amber-coloured stars knit all along its edges. One of the first gifts he’d ever bought her.

It’s such an image from his memory that he stalls a moment—this tea, this place, that shawl and her, so utterly lost in her reading that she hasn’t even noticed him.

Kai! Faust calls, delighted.

She looks up, startled. And then she smiles for a moment, and it’s exactly like he remembers, for half a broken heartbeat.

She doesn’t remember you, he reminds himself.

And yet it gets harder, every time he sees her.

From her lap comes the low growl of an angry cat, and out from the shawl pops a small black head, with golden eyes that have all the glow of burning embers. It’s the cat he’d seen skulking in the background of their impromptu magic discussion at the Rowdy Raven, though this is the first clear look he’s gotten of it.

“Hello,” Asra says.

The cat’s ears flatten against its skull, and it hisses at him.

Faust is utterly undeterred by the display of aggression from the cat, and slithers over to it, delighted.

Friend!

“Cinis,” Kai scolds, but the cat does not listen. It leaps from her lap and scurries to the highest place it can find—over the kitchen cabinets—and continues to hiss as Faust slithers up onto the counter after it.

She hangs her head upside down as she looks up at him. Friend?

“I’m sorry,” Kai says. “He’s—he’s uh—he’s not friendly.”

But Asra’s too busy looking at the cat to pay Kai much mind. At his glowing eyes, and how well the rest of him blends in with the shadows up there, at how well he crams himself into such a small space. Better than the average cat, even, he muses, and he feels a small smile begin to spread over his face.

“Hello there,” he calls, softly.

The cat turns his ember-eyed glare on Asra.

And he feels it, then. Oh, it’s a mess—a rage and distrust that it’s nearly a physical thing, nearly a wall radiating outward from such a tiny creature. He takes another step forward and the cat’s eyes flash, and the room feels markedly warmer.

Asra reaches out, without reaching—and he feels a link between the cat and Kai. It’s hardly like the one he shares with Faust; it’s twisted, and all gnarled up like a ball of twine, but it is solid, and strong, and he can feel power flowing from one to the other at a steady trickle, getting lost in the maze of their connection to one another.

“You found your familiar,” Asra says, his voice full of wonder.

The cat blinks down at him, some of its rage waning, replaced by a note of confusion.

“My what?”

Asra stands at the bottom of the cabinets and looks up at Cinis. The cat shifts his weight uneasily, and his hissing has waned to a low warning growl, though his fur is still on end.

“Amazing,” he says. “You managed to bond without even knowing it—and so strongly! Can you hear him speak?” he asks, turning back to Kai.

She’s staring at him like he’s speaking another language. “He’s a cat, Asra. Cats don’t talk.”

He can’t help a laugh. “Neither do snakes,” he teases, reaching out so Faust can slither up his arm. “But you can hear Faust well enough. And your cat is no ordinary cat.”

Kai narrows her eyes at him, unconvinced. A glance backwards at Cinis confirms that, though he is still radiating a general unpleasantness, his ears are forward, and he’s interested in what Asra has to say.

“Let me guess,” Kai drolls, “he’s got magic, too.”

Asra hums, amused, scratching Faust under her chin to placate her before pouring a cup of tea for himself. He joins Kai on the couch, and Faust immediately slithers up Kai’s arm to rest on her shoulder, nuzzling her head against her chin.

Kai lets out an infinitesimal laugh, and starts to scratch Faust’s chin.

Asra’s heart flips in his chest, and almost feels whole again.

She does not remember you.

“I once visited a land across the sea, where there were ancient jungles with trees so tall and so crowded together that they blocked out all the sunlight. Their branches are so broad and strong, that some animals live their entire lives out in their canopies without once seeing the ground.”

Her gaze rises back from Faust to him—her eyes wide with that familiar curiosity, slowly winning out over the caution and fear a year in Lucio’s city has bred in her.

“The locals there lived among the trees—the soil was poor, but they burned down sections of the forest at a time to enrich the soil, and grow their crops. And there was a story they used to tell at those burnings—about a boy who learned to call fire, by befriending one of the shadow cats that live in the dark spaces between the trees.”

“A shadow cat,” she wonders—and there is only a trace of disbelief in her voice, now.

“It’s… hard to translate. The word they used was more like, the shadow cast by a great figure blocking a fire. The locals assured me that they live in the forest still, even though I couldn’t find one. And I looked, trust me. They’re master shapeshifters, slipping between the smallest of gaps between the trees, or growing large enough to devour the greatest of prey.”

“Like rats?” she asks. She keeps shifting closer, and he doesn’t think she knows she’s doing it.

“The biggest I’ve ever seen,” Asra says—and he mimes for her one’s size off the ground, at around knee height, just to watch her eyes go wide. “Giant birds, fish twice as long as you are tall—snakes that could wrap around this room twice, and then half that again.”

Faust looks uneasily over at the cat. Friend? she asks uncertainly.

“You said he learned fire from them,” Kai says. “The boy in the story.”

Asra inclines his head towards her, just a little. “The story goes that when the cats are angry, or they’re in danger and there’s no other way out, they call on the fire within—the one that glows in their eyes, even in the light—and they raze the forest to the ground.”

Kai hums a little. She bites her lip, her gaze dropping for a moment in thought before snapping back up to his again. “And you think Cinis is one of these… shadow cats? But I just found him in a barrel one day. How did he wind up here?”

“The black market, undoubtedly,” Asra says. He inclines his head toward the kitchen table. “Though I think, given enough time, you could simply ask him yourself.”

Kai looks over—and there is Cinis, down from his perch atop the cabinets, sitting on the table. He is still studying Asra with a dubious expression, even for a cat, but when Kai regards him his ears perk up, and his tail swishes a little.

“As it stands,” Asra tells her, “your auras are tangled, and everything caught in them is weighing them down. Closing them into you—so your bond, though strong, is carrying all that negative energy with it, and it doesn’t have the space to grow.”

Her expression twists. There is some disbelief in her expression, though not as much as Asra would have thought at the start of this conversation.

“I could provide a bit of a head start,” he says, tentatively. “If you like.”

Kai and Cinis meet gazes for a long, long moment. Eventually, Cinis sits a little straighter, and lets out a soft mrr.

She exhales. “If Cinis is alright with it,” she says, right before the cat in question jumps from the table to her lap. He head-butts her chin, and she laughs a little before indulging him by scratching behind his ears.

“I believe everything we need is downstairs,” Asra says, rising off the couch.

In truth, he needs very little. Water from a high mountain glacier, melted from its ice in the sunlight, a single, perfectly cut clear quartz crystal, and oil derived from eucalyptus leaves.

“Should we… sit on the floor or something?” Kai asks, shifting her weight nervously as Asra brings what he needs back upstairs. “Are you… going to draw a magic circle? With chalk or…”

Asra looks out the window to the garden. “The rain’s stopped,” he muses. “How about we try this outside, instead?”

He leads her down the stairs, and out into the garden. She wears the shawl, still. Cinis walks at her side, glaring at Asra and radiating a general protectiveness that makes the magician smile.

She sits at the edge of the pool, Cinis in her lap, and Asra sits beside her with Faust draped over his shoulders. The morning is grey and smoky, but he can’t help of think of moonlight in her hair, or its shine in her burnt umber eyes.

So, so badly, he wants to say: I kissed you here for the first time. Under the moonlight, under the stars. Remember me. Please, remember me.

But Lucio has her in the palm of his hand, golden talons curling around her like a cage, and the less she knows, the safer she is.

So instead he says, “Your wrists, please.”

She hesitates only a moment before offering them. He drops a dot of eucalyptus oil on the inside of each of her wrists, before doing the same for himself.

He has the clear glacier water in a bowl, and he has her hold it in her hands, low enough so Cinis can look into it too.

“Your familiar is more than just a pet,” Asra says, letting the crystal hang from its chain above the water. “They are creatures of magic, just as much as you or I. Your bond right now is tangled, uncertain—I think you made it together but without guidance, when you were both very weak.”

She glances down at Cinis. The cat’s ear twitches, and he radiates a general unhappiness, as if at an unpleasant memory.

“With a strong enough bond, Cinis can assist in spells you are casting, can more easily find you in a crowd or across distances, and he can communicate more clearly with you his own thoughts and feelings. But first—that bond needs a chance to grow.”

He moves his hand so the crystal begins to swing back and forth, just above the surface of the water. Towards Asra, then towards Kai, and then back again.

On his shoulder, Faust begins to sway in time with the crystal. Cinis watches it swing back and forth, ears forward, his posture alert.

Kai stares deep into Asra’s eyes and doesn’t look away.

“Think back on meeting one another,” Asra explains in a low, even voice. “Focus on anything positive you felt about the encounter—is there anything you remember standing out in particular?”

Her eyes flutter closed, and she swallows. “He was warm and soft against my back,” she says, quietly. “When he was asleep.”

“Very good,” he says. “How about you? How did you feel, when he was close to you?”

She hesitates a moment, and her eyes flicker as if she’s embarrassed. “I—I didn’t feel lonely, anymore.”

“What you didn’t feel is good. But what you need to focus on is what you did feel.”

She exhales.

After a long silence, Asra says, “Kai, I’m only here to guide you. This is something that you and Cinis have to work through together.”

The silence stretches again, so long that Asra nearly sighs and gives up before Kai says, very softly, “I felt—I felt a little more whole.”

His half a heart beats hard against his chest.

“Focus on that,” Asra says. “Just focus on you, and Cinis, and that feeling. Let everything else drift past you, through your hands, and into the water in the bowl.”

Her brows furrow, and she clenches her jaw.

“Don’t force it,” he warns her. “Just… just feel, Kai. That’s all you have to do.”

She breathes deep again—and again, and again, and Asra watches her struggle, watches as her hands begin to grip the bowl too tightly—

Cinis closes his eyes and begins to purr.

Louder than Asra thinks such a little cat has any right to. He’s honestly so startled by the sound that he nearly drops the crystal into the water. But that little cat purrs, and begins to knead Kai’s crossed legs with his sharp claws, and starts to rub his head against her arm.

Kai lets out a breath. A soft, quiet release of air, and the air around her slowly begins to shift.

Asra watches, his breath in his throat, as Kai’s aura slowly begins to uncoil from where it’s been hiding, deep within herself.

There you are, he thinks. Nearly says it, but open wonder stops the words from escaping his throat.

And oh, it’s tentative, that brightness within her. Like the flicker of a candle in the night, an uncertain flame held between two palms. But there it is, bright and warm, and Asra watches as it stretches out from her, as it meets the aura blazing out from Cinis—bright and bold like a bonfire, confident and sure.

He watches hers grow in strength, encouraged by the tiny, impressively brave cat in her lap. He watches them twine—and is it his imagination, or is the sky a little less grey? Does a little more sunlight seep through the clouds than before, or is it just the warmth growing in his chest as he watches a smile spread over her face?

Their auras settle, their bond untangled. She opens her eyes, and looks down at the bowl in her hands, the water blackened by all the negative energy trapped in her aura, before immediately turning her gaze down to Cinis.

“Is that how you’ve felt this whole time?” she asks, voice low with awe.

He turns around and stands up on his hind legs so he can rub his face against hers while he radiates pure, uncomplicated happiness. She laughs, bright and warm and loud, and sets the bowl aside in the grass to smooth down his fur, and scratch him behind the ears.

Faust winds herself around Asra’s neck. She does not say anything, but he can feel her contentment all the same, and he scratches her chin in reply.

Kai reaches up to wipe at her eyes with the heel of her palm, before finally turning her gaze to Asra.

She might as well be glowing. More or less is, with her aura shining out, unfettered by her loneliness.

The sight of it catches in his throat.

“Thank you,” she says. “I—thank you, Asra. I don’t know how I could…”

He raises a hand. “All I did was give you a push,” he tells her, leaning forward to collect the bowl. “You and Cinis did the rest.”

Cinis meows, as if confirming Asra’s general uselessness. His eyes glow even brighter than before.

Asra can only laugh.

As Asra is dumping the water in a corner that drains out of the garden, Kai blurts, “Teach me magic.”

He stills. He rises, turns slowly, trying to calm the racing of his heart.

Kai is standing—still by the reflecting pool, biting her lower lip and holding her familiar in her arms.

“Please,” she adds, uncertainly.

He remembers to breathe. Remembers to smile, and tease—“Why?” he asks, busying himself with shaking the last drop of water from the bowl. “I thought magic was illegal.”

“So is shoving Lucio off a cliff, but it would probably improve things a little around here.”

He can’t help but laugh at that—deep, full-bellied laughter, the kind that he hasn’t let out in…

“Asra, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but this city needs help.” She approaches him, and now he is forced to face her properly. To look down at her as she looks up at him, and to stare down into her burnt umber eyes, and see the flecks within that are nearly black. Just as he remembers.

“It’s been a year since the countess’s death, and there are still riots. Julian’s done what he can, but the plague is going to kill us all sooner or later. If we don’t starve to death first.”

“And you’re asking the man you’ve been charged to find—on pain of death—to teach you the art of magic, decreed illegal by the monarch you just suggested we murder.”

She smirks in reply—with an all-too-familiar and entirely dangerous gleam in her eye. “I didn’t say it had to be a very tall cliff.”

A huff of laughter escapes him, in spite of himself. But his thoughts are already turning back—already thinking of the argument they had, before he fled the plague and she stayed behind.

Magic is meant to help people, she’d said. I won’t leave this city to rot.

She does not remember that argument. Does not remember him, but here she is. In this garden, with the shawl he bought her a lifetime ago slipping off her shoulder.

“First lesson,” he begins.

He watches her eyes light up, and his slow-mending heart beats faster in its own answering delight.

#the arcana fanfic #The Arcana Game #asra x apprentice #asra the magician

9 notes · View notes

siren-dragon · 7 years

Text

Little Red - Lunafreya x Ardyn (Drabble)

Hey everyone, I wrote another fanfic! Hurray! ^_^

You can all thank @ardynium for this piece, because she told me about the prompt for @ffxvrarepairsweek, with Day 3 - July 5th’s being Fairytale/Dancing.

And because of a lovely piece of art that @dusia-chan did of a Phantom of the Opera AU with Lunafreya and Ardyn that @valkyrieofardyn reblogged, I had to write a fic with this pairing. So thank you, you two have made me start to enjoy this ship. XD

Also, I’m sorry if there are any error’s as I wrote this at 23:00 at night. -__- Anyway, lets get this on with!

She had always loved fairytales.

It was a silly fantasy that she indulged in. The enjoyment of falling into a world of make-believe and leaving the hardships of reality behind. Many a day she would curl up within the window seat of the castle library, a book of folktales open upon her lap as she escaped into the realm of the written word. On occasion, she would even be able to convince Ravus to sit beside her, his solemn personality melting away as he would smile at the childish stories she read.

But as the years passed, the burdens of her calling ended such adventures. She ascended to the role of Oracle as her mother had before her. Ravus had all but closed himself off from the world; his hate at the Lucian King poisoning his once sweet disposition. And the book of fairytales remained untouched upon the bookshelf of the library.

She didn’t know why she chose to grab the book from the little nook in which it sat. The once cherished novel that had appeared so gargantuan seemed impossibly small when clasped between her slender fingers. A smile graced her lips as she slowly walked to her favorite window seat, flipping through the pages of the storybook. Passing her favorite stories, she couldn’t help but chuckle softly to herself as the memories of days gone by flooded into her mind.

“What is this? The Lady Oracle herself, reading a children’s tome?”

That voice of velvet was one she had come to recognize instantaneous these pass 12 years. “Good afternoon, Chancellor Izunia. Is there something that I can help you with?”

The Niflheim Chancellor simply smirked, removing his fedora from his wine-colored hair. “Worried about little old me? Your ladyship’s kindness knows no bounds.” His kind words twisted by his mocking tone.

Lunafreya frowned, “you are too kind, Chancellor…” she replied before turning to her story once more. It was one Ravus rarely read to her when they were children, as its theme was rather gruesome. Yet the tale always fascinated her for its intriguing message of caution.

‘Once upon a time, there lived a young girl. She was a kind and gentle child, loved by all. And they called her Little Red.

Then one day she journeyed into the forest. And it was there she met a wolf…

But the wolf was charming, bowing low before her. Little Red asked for a way to the vale, where her grandmother lived. The wolf smiled, guiding her down the path- And right into his trap...

He rushed to the cottage and devoured the grandmother, Before waiting for Little Red to arrive.

And when Little Red arrived, she frowned at her grandmother. “Oh Grandmother, what big arms you have!” ‘The better to hold you with my dear….’ “Oh Grandmother, what big ears you have!” ‘The better to hear you with my dear....’ “Oh Grandmother, what big eyes you have!” ‘The better to see you with my dear….’

“But Grandmother…what big teeth you have!” ‘The better…to eat you with my dear.’ And with a single lunge, the wolf fell upon her.

“A fascinating tale, wouldn’t you say?”

She looked toward the Chancellor once more, “you have read ‘The Little Red Hood’?”

“Certainly. I’ve always found it’s morbid theme rather fascinating.” Ardyn spoke, walking toward the bookshelf he let his fingers slide across the spines of the novels resting there. “A tale of caution to those who are too blind to see the dangers of the world.”

“That is a rather harsh view of the world, Chancellor.”

He came to a halt before her and took hold of her hand. “Consider it a kind word of wisdom, Lady Lunafreya. There are some stories that hold more truth than you believe.” He then placed a gentle kiss atop her hand, the action taking her by surprise. “Until our next meeting, your Ladyship.”

And in an instant Ardyn spun on his heel and exited the library, the spot where he had kissed her hand still warm from his touch.

The melodious notes from the band flew across the rooftop courtyard while guests laughed and cheered in celebration. All around fireworks illuminated the twilight skyline of Insomnia as the Treaty Banquet commenced. Lunafreya stared out across the balcony, hands clasped around the beautiful hairpin Nyx Ulric had gifted her. To think that so many had to be sacrificed in the name of peace…

“My dear Lady Lunafreya, we meet once more.”

“Good evening to you Chancellor.” Lunafreya answered, bowing her head politely to the flamboyant politician.

Ardyn chuckled, twirling the champagne glass between his fingers. “Why your Ladyship, if I did not know better, I would say you are not enjoying yourself.”

“I find it difficult to celebrate with the cost for this peace.”

“Everything has a price, princess. You should find yourself fortunate that you did not have to pay it.”

Lunafreya clenched her fist, the Chancellor’s words leaving a bitter taste in her mouth. The music began to fade till another song took it’s place; this one a waltz. The blonde princess then found herself being guided to the dancefloor by the magenta-haired Chancellor, a devious smirk present on his lips. “Come your Ladyship, surely you could spare a man one dance.”

“Very well,” she responded before placing her hand on Ardyn’s shoulder.

His smirk grew larger as his arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her so close she could feel the heat radiating off his flesh. The other hand took hold of her own, clasping the hairpin tightly against her own hand. Ardyn then led her about the courtyard with the skill and grace of a born aristocrat, humming merrily along to the waltz. “Interesting piece of jewelry, your Ladyship. A hairpin if I am not mistaken.”

“A gift from King Regis…his glaive was meant to deliver it….”

“His Majesty has rather good taste. Though I am sure it would look better were you in red.”

Lunafreya gave a small smile at the reference to the fairytale, “I’m afraid I do not have a red cloak.”

“Ah, perhaps another time….”

The music soon ended and Lunafreya felt Ardyn’s hold on her waist disappear. She moved to remove her hand from his own, but he kept his grip before gently prying loose the hairpin within. Raising his hands to her elaborate ponytail, the Chancellor placed the elegant piece of jewelry against her pale blonde hair. A smile pulled across his lips as his hands fell away, though not before his fingers trailed against the loose strands. “Beautiful,” he spoke.

Heat flooded across her face and a hint of pink dusted the pale skin of her cheeks. “Thank you, Chancellor.”

“Ever at your service, Lady Lunafreya.”

She sighed heavily as she sat down upon the beautiful blue sofa, her body feeling tired and worn. The journey to Altissia was long and the price of the Covenant grew heavier and heavier with each Astral she communed with. Though she knew it was expected of her…it was her duty to see Noctis’ destiny fulfilled.

“It appears the Astrals have not been kind to you, have they Lady Lunafreya.”

The Oracle rose from her seat, startled by the appearance of the Chancellor. She frowned deeply at the sight of the Niflheim Envoy, remembering the massacre at the Citadel…and the death of King Regis and Nyx. “You are rather bold to have come here, Chancellor Izunia.”

“Come my dear, there is no need for hostility. I’ve not come to halt your Trial with Leviathan.”

“Then what is it that you desire.”

The Chancellor walked toward her until they were mere inches apart, his proximity causing her heart to suddenly quicken. He took hold of her chin, gently tilting her face toward his own so that sky-blue iris’ met sunshine yellow. Her face began to heat up as crimson blush began to spread across her face, making Ardyn smirk. “Many things my dear, many things. But for now, I suppose this will have to do.”

His lips crashed against her own, causing Lunafreya to gasp. She melted against his touch, despising the excitement and enjoyment she felt. Ardyn bit at her lip for permission; a mere formality before his tongue invaded her mouth. She moaned softly at the sudden assault, causing Ardyn to chuckle against their locked lips. Though the necessity of oxygen soon took over and the magenta-haired devil broke the kiss.

“Rest well, your Ladyship.” He spoke before moving toward the exit. “For the story is almost over.”

Lunafreya watched the Niflheim Chancellor leave before sinking into the luxurious sofa once more. She moved her fingers to her lips that felt swollen from the gentle yet passionate kiss they had shared.

Lunafreya watched in horror as Noctis- her sweet, kind Noctis, slammed against the sinking rubble that was Altissia. Quickly she moved toward the prince, only for her body to seize and send her crumbling to the floor. She coughed harshly into her hand, the spiral of water caused by Leviathan making it difficult to breathe. Yet despite the roar of water and the screeches of Leviathan, a soft thud of footsteps caught her attention…a sound she had heard many times before…

“Now then, about that ring.” Ardyn spoke.

Once upon a time, there lived a young girl. She was a kind and gentle child, loved by all. And they called her Little Red.

“On second thought…you let him have it.” He continued before the silver blade tore through her flesh.

Then one day she journeyed into the forest. And it was there, that she met a wolf…

Lunafreya gasped, moving to cover the lethal wound as blood began to spread across the ivory gown. “And do remind him about the Crystal,” Ardyn whispered before ripping the blade out.

But the wolf was charming, bowing low before her. Little Red asked for a way to the vale, where her grandmother lived. The wolf smiled, guiding her down the path- And right into his trap...

“Oh Prince! Your bride awaits!” Ardyn called mockingly to Noctis, chuckling at his cruel jest.

“I shall pass the ring…to the rightful King.” She gasped, glaring defiantly at the man.

Ardyn smirked at her before grasping her chin; this time with no gentle touch, but with a vice-grip in a twisted parody of their earlier encounter. And it was then she felt it…the darkness…the daemons…

Oh Grandmother, what big arms you have!” ‘The better to hold you with my dear….’ “Oh Grandmother, what big ears you have!” ‘The better to hear you with my dear....’ “Oh Grandmother, what big eyes you have!” ‘The better to see you with my dear….’

There was once a time she used to love fairytales…. And she had once wished that the world of fantasy would relieve her burdens within reality. But those days had vanished…never to return.

“But Grandmother…what big teeth you have!” ‘The better…to eat you with my dear.’

“I was right…. You look marvelous in red, your Ladyship.”

And with a single lunge, the wolf fell upon her.

There you have it! By the way, I wrote the Red Riding Hood variation used in this fic, with some inspiration being drawn from the Brothers Grimm and Charles Perrault versions. But that’s all for now, so take care! :)

#ffxvrarepairsweek #ffxv #fanfiction #luna/ardyn #lunafreya nox fleuret #ardyn izunia #fairytales #little red riding hood #this was strangely fun to write

35 notes · View notes

mianmimi · 8 years

Text

Ficlet: The Skeptic

I come bearing a little ficlet!

http://archiveofourown.org/works/9908888

Or if you prefer, just read it off here ^^

You know who wanted a silly ficlet where Wong tells Mordo’s fortune? No one ^^ But I wrote it anyways.

Warnings: references to future mpreg; soulmate au; out of character-ness at the end cause I’m feeling silly ___________________________________

“There is no such thing as love at first sight,” Mordo stressed the ‘no’ as he snapped the book shut. He was growing more irritated by this discussion, “It’s a poisonous fairytale that needs to stop.”

Wong merely opened another book and propped it up in response. The page depicted old inscriptions that declared, in fact, that falling for the love of your life at first sight was a highly unlikely occurrence. Unlikely but not impossible.

He flipped open the other books that were sprawled across the massive desk. The pages spoke of soulmates, love finding spells, and even a few that had fortune telling instructions specifically for romance.

“There.” Wong swept his arms over the evidence, “Facts.”

“Love is a conscious decision. It’s not some random impulse nor is it dictated by fate.” Mordo said with finality, “Love is always a choice. Never chance.”

Wong shrugged, completely unconvinced by his friend’s shewed logic.

“Thinking in absolutes only limits your reach,” Wong gave a small, knowing smirk, “And for a man who mocks the idea? You will probably end up head over heels and flat on your face in love one day.”

“And what makes you so convinced of that?”

“Because the biggest skeptics make the strongest converts,” Wong spoke as if it was the most basic truth known to mankind, “And at this rate you are only tempting fate.”

“I can assure you, I have no plans to partake in such utter nonsense,” Mordo sighed and shook his head at the absurdity of it all. He would never be so undignified as to fall blindly into anything, much less something as fleeting as romance.

“You know, my late grandmother was a renowed matchmaker. She was a strong skeptic herself until she found out her predictions came true. That woman had flawless intuition.”

Mordo heard stories of Wong’s grandmother. By all accounts she was a sweet, demure, sorceress who could strike down men twice her size while bouncing her grandchildren in one arm.

“She could look at a crowded festival and pick out soulmates effortlessly, even if the couple never met yet. Of course she used a few spells for confirmation but it was mostly her own talent that brought people together. Many would travel from afar just to have her find their soulmates.”

“And do you suppose you have such a gift?” Mordo asked though he really just wanted the discussion to change into something else without offending his friend.

“I’ve dabbled,” Wong replied. He raised an eyebrow with a smile. “Would you indulge me a bit?”

Before Mordo could object, Wong opened the desk drawer and pulled out an old, leather bound book, a small silver bowl, and a wooden box.

“I find it very suspicious that you would have all of that ready at a moment’s notice.”

“Come now. What would you have to lose if this is, as you called it, nonsense?”

“My credibly as a serious practioner of the mystic arts?” Mordo replied, “And what would the students think?”

“They would think nothing of it. They should be in their rooms. Curfew hours started an hour ago. We must go to the courtyard for this,” Wong gathered his materials and nodded towards the empty space. “Grandmother said it’s best to do this with the stars as witness.”

“Very well,” Mordo said, following his friend.

His own footsteps were reluctant but the boots it seemed, were extremely excited to go. They nearly tripped over each other in their haste to enter the courtyard, tiny yellow sparks springing out as they rushed forward.

“Behave you two. Don’t get any ideas,” Mordo scolded lightly. “I’m only doing this as a favor for Wong. He ever barely asks for anything, seems selfish to deny him something so simple.”

The boots tightened softly in response, like a child squeezing a parent’s hand for reassurance.

“I know,” Mordo said, his tone gentle now as he tapped the tops of the boots, “Now let’s get this done. I still have to polish you both afterwards.”

The promise of a good, well earned polish made the boots hasten their stride, though with much more finese and dignity than before.

Wong lead them to the middle of the courtyard. A silvery full moon ruled that night, and the stars were scattered thick against the sky. Wong knelt down and arranged the materials carefully on the ground. He motioned Mordo to kneel likewise. He pulled an ornate cloth from the wooden box for Mordo to rest his knees on.

“For the one getting their fortune told,” Wong explained.

The skeptic watched as his friend opened the box completely to reveal several small candles. There were runes etched around each candle, some of which Mordo recognized from the books Wong showed him. The silver bowl was placed down next.

“Fill the bowl with water in whatever way you want. Spell or by hand. You must also choose a candle and light that as you wish as well. Don’t think about it too much. This is crucial.”

For a sorcerer who usually calculated every decision, that was no easy task. Using spells would be far quicker. He could get this over with in no time and never have to deal with it again. Yet glancing at Wong he felt guilty for trying to rush something that his friend was obviously invested in.

He chose a candle at random and was surprised at how intricately the runes covered the entire surface of it. It was rough and riddled with deep cuts, as if whoever designed the candle was in a foul mood that day.

He lit the candle with a spell. The flame flashed green and yellow before settling into a steady, red glow with a golden core. He placed the candle carefully on the ground, using a simple spell to keep it from toppling over.

For the silver bowl, he decided to fill the water by hand. If anything to show Wong that he wasn’t trying to hurry the alledged ritual. He went to a nearby pond for the water, not failing to see Wong’s amused gaze when he came back.

“Alright,” Mordo said as he placed the silver bowl before them. “What’s next?”

“The order and manner in which you fulfilled my instructions revealed many things. The candle represents your past,” Wong explained. “It’s complicated, full of wounds you still carry. You lit the candle with magic, signifying that you come from a family which practices the mystic arts.”

Wong took the candle and lifted it above the bowl.

“The green and yellow flash when you lit the candle are unfortunate signs,” Wong said. He looked at Mordo with genuine concern, “And I’m truly sorry you had to endure what you did.”

Mordo gave no response. His family history was a public secret, something everyone knew of but didn’t openly acknowledge. He was grateful for that. To have it brought up in such a manner as this ritual unnerved him. He couldn’t bring himself to hold it against Wong however.

“But what really matters now is the future,” Wong continued.“The water in the silver bowl represents your beloved’s background. And it’s…ugh…”

Wong stared at the water for an uncomfortably long time.

“What is it?” Mordo asked, peering into the water himself to see what was so fascinating.

“You’ll come from very different backgrounds. They’ll come from a family that works with their hands, a livelihood closely tied to the earth. No magic involved. No noble blood. But your beloved will take his own path.”

“His?”

Wong ignored him and kept staring into the water.

“He’s exceptionally kind, though it’s rarely seen. He’s stubborn, like the earth his family tends. Hmm, water seems to be a very painful element in his life.”

The wax rolled off slowly and dragged against the runes. Wong tilted the candle, allowing the softened wax to drip into the water.

“Let’s see what happens when you both meet,” Wong said.

As the wax hit the water, a soft golden shimmer rippled across the surface. Each drop swirled and formed various vague shapes Mordo couldn’t quite define. Wong took out the small leather bound book and flipped through the pages.

“Forgive me, I’ve been out of practice.” Wong said as he tried to match the drawings in the book with the shapes within the water.

Mordo waited nervously, glancing around to see if anyone was around to see them. They must look so foolish, like those younger, siller recruits who thought they could see their futures inside crystal balls. Or worse, those flighty school children who used paper fortune tellers for amusement.

“Either I’m really horrible at this or your great love is a real peice of work, a very strange man it seems.”

“What do you mean?”

Wong motioned for him to look at the shapes. He wasn’t even sure exactly what he was supposed to be inspecting. The wax sitting in the water looked like an absolute mess.

“Between you two there’ll be much of chaos, conflict, and pain. Plenty of self-inflicted denial and sufferring-”

“I thought this was about a potential lover? You’re describing something more like an enemy! Does this mysterious man at least listen? Does what he’s told?”

Wong laughed loudly and shook his head.

“Not in the very least. He’s got a mind of his own. I’m sorry my friend, but it seems your beloved will You will contrast each other in countless ways. He’ll have the qualities you lack. It’ll be infuriating at first but see here?” Wong pointed to where the wax softened in the water, “With time, It’ll work out. You will compromise for his sake. He’ll soften the armor around your heart. He will be your deepest joy and greatest weakness.”

“There’s no way I could ever love someone like that.”

Mordo’s eyes narrowed, his lips pulled back in a skeptical scowl. Such a thing would never, by all the spells and magic in the world, ever happen. No one had the power to make him that vulnerable.

“It’s simply impossible,” Mordo said. Before he could continue, another voice interrupted him.

“Only a fool would reject the impossible.”

“The Ancient One!” Mordo gulped. Out of all the people to appear, of course it had to be the Sorceress Supreme. How was he going to explain this? Or perhaps he should just immediately apologize for this mockery of magic? Or maybe he should be sorry for acting so juvenile? But he didn’t want to make it seem like Wong was completely at fault either-

“Oh I haven’t seen this sort of reading in years. How wonderful!”

The Ancient One joined them gracefully on the ground, kneeling before the silver bowl and smiling at what she found.

Both men glanced at each other nervously, then at the bowl, then back to the Sorceress Supreme. She was looking rather amused, her eyes sparkling with a bit of mischief in the candlelight.

“Sadly such practices haven’t been popular in recent years,” she hovered her hands above the water. “It’s a beautiful art form. I’m so delighted that you’ve preserved the materials required for it, Master Wong.”

Mordo was at a loss for words, his eyes widened with dread as The Ancient One reached for the candle.

“May I?”

With awful anticipation Mordo watched as she inspected the water and candle.

“Master Wong was correct,” The sorceress said as she allowed the wax to roll off into the bowl, “You and your love have suffered alone in your past. In your future, you’ll bear suffereing together.”

Mordo wasn’t comforted by that at all, although his teacher looked extremely pleased.

“Oh, he’s also rather tall. Taller than you, though not by much. Physically, you’re far stronger than him,” She laughed softly and glanced at Mordo, “Fear not. He’s not a fragile thing. He’ll gladly take everything you can give.”

This simply wasn’t happening. Mortofied and humiliated beyond belief, Mordo wanted nothing more than to sink into the ground and disappear. Wong, to his credit, was able to supress a chuckle.

“You always were fond of blue,” The Ancient said, “You won’t be able to take your eyes off his. Oh! Look here.”

She pointed at a silvery shape that wisped away beneath her touch.

“He’s going to be a talkative one. Insatiable in his curiousity and questions. I suggest you enjoy your peaceful days, Master Mordo.This soulmate of yours will keep you on your toes.”

“Soulmate?” Mordo felt the blood drain from his face.

“Well of course. Didn’t you notice the flame? Though I can’t really scold you for not recognizing it immediately. It’s rarely seen.”

She handed the candle to a petrified Mordo.

“You see? There’s a steady red glow with an immovable golden core. And right at the center, you can see a rune. This man is your soulmate. For better or worse. Now isn’t that lovely?”

It didn’t sound lovely at all. The prospect sounded absolutely, undeniably, terrifying! Suddenly Mordo felt dizzy, disoriented, like he’d been thrown into another dimension with no way to escape.

“Oh, what’s this?”

The Ancient One blinked as the silver bowl glistened. A slow smile spread through her ethereal face, then she threw back her head and laughed.

“I hope four is a good number Mordo,” She rose up and quickly opened a fan to hide her face which had gone bright pink from her laughter, “By the Vashanti, who would have thought?”

The Sorceress Supreme tried to compose herself as she strolled away. Wong grabbed the silver bowl and stuck his face close to the surface of the water, trying to see what could have caused her to react that way.

“What does she mean?” The sorcerer poked at the water, “Four of what?”

From the distance, The Ancient One called out, her voice bright and lively.

“I suggest you keep a sling ring with you at all times, Master Mordo. Your dear soulmate will be exceptionally demanding once his cravings hit.”

“What does that mean?” Mordo demanded, nearly shoving Wong out of the way to peer into the bowl himself, “That can’t mean children! That would be absurd! How am I going to look after four children? It’s too dangerous for that. And how is their–mother? How is he going to survive in our world without magic?”

Mordo dropped the candle to the ground. He placed his aching head in his hands.

“I thought this was all rubbish?” Wong said with a smug smile.

“It was!” Mordo said, waving a hand towards the direction The Ancient One walked off to, “Until she said otherwise.”

And who was he to question the predictions of the Sorceress Supreme?

In a sudden burst of rare panic Mordo grabbed the leather book and began to skim through its pages.

“Can you at least see what the children will be like? They’re going to learn magic, no compromises! I’ll teach them. What if they need to escape? I’ll need to find the smallest sling ring sizes for them, teach them the safest places to go, defense spells-”

Wong could only laugh at his friend’s frantic planning over children he never would have thought of that morning, or a soulmate he didn’t expect to exist.

Indeed it was true. Skeptics do make the best converts.

A/N: Four means the number of kids. Yes, I went there XD If anyone wants a follow up where Mordo is running around trying to find the food Stephen’s craving for, let me know. In the mean time, we’ll return to your regularly scheduled angst in a bit. Omegaverse bug bit me hard…so that may be the next thing I pick at XD

#strordo #ficlet #stephen strange/karl mordo #otp feels #fluff fic #sorry Mordo #even if happier fics you must panic

5 notes · View notes

shianhygge-imagines · 8 years

Text

REQUEST: Divine Intervention [Ravus/Reader] AU

Edit 1: Guys, I would appreciate it if you didn’t spam that person who sent me the request, okay? It was my mistake, I am sorry.

You all wanted Ravus... so here’s Ravus :3 If you were wondering why I wasn’t posting much... it was cause of this, lol (8 pages) The ideas put into this is a chain of events. The butterfly effect. How different Ravus’s story would be if something didn’t happen. The alternate universe of my Ravus Headcanon. And I shall graciously take those cookies, thank you! :3

|Masterlist Link|

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You had listened to the young Oracle, and you had carefully considered her words, yet you had only smiled and continued on your path away from gates of House Fleuret.

You loved Ravus, yes. But you refused to be a second priority to him. Your pride and your heart could not let you continue on this path. And a voice whispered in the back of your mind, soft, rumbling, yet irrevocably male, but it’s always been there. Ever since you were young.

The Fallen Prince, in his heart, seeks only a vengeance and to protect his sister. Should you turn back from your decision, you seal his fate. But should you stand firm, have comfort that the one you love may be saved.

So you kept walking, back straight and head held high despite the tears that gathered at the corners. You didn’t know if you could trust the words. Didn’t know if someone was trying to deceive you. All you knew, was that Ravus had to change his ways, and you couldn’t be there to help him.

You left. Not just the place you had called home for your whole life. Not just Tenebrae. You left to go to Lucis. Far away from the man you love.

~~~~~~

He was on his knees, kneeling with a pool of glass around his feet. Ravus had seen his sister speak with you, and saw you stand at the gates to his home before turning and walking away. Many have come to believe that Ravus was cold and unfeeling, a determined and no-nonsense commander, but it was only half true. Somewhere, buried, was that kind and compassionate boy from eleven long years ago, but only those near him could find that boy. You had been one of the only ones who could still see the best of Ravus, could still see the hurting boy crying out for those he’s lost. And Ravus had loved you for it. He’d loved you for the longest time. Fifteen years of love and he had still managed to push you away.

His hands were cut up from gripping the shattered glass frame of an old picture. It was a photograph that the two of you had taken long ago, there was a smile on your childish face as Ravus gave you a chaste kiss on the cheek. You had been 13 years old and he 14. It was a year before his mother was killed, and it was a happier time. And suddenly tears found their way down from his mismatched eyes, landing on the picture. He’d driven you out with his selfish ways, had taken his anger and frustration out on you. And now you were gone.

There was no one to blame but himself. He had been blind. Had assumed that you would be by his side forever. But what was his vengeance worth now? He’d known that his loved ones had disapproved of his blaming King Regis, that they believed that he should have directed his anger at the Empire instead. But he had been stubborn. But what good was his blaming King Regis now if it meant losing you. It was worth nothing.

So with a sob, Ravus stood and rethought about his goals, lamenting that he had to lose you before he could see how foolish he was.

Though he still cried because, “I never had the chance to tell them that I love them.”

~~~~~~~

It was challenging, moving to another nation and start anew, but the people were kind, and you found a new calling, not as a servant to a royal family, but as a Hunter.

Fighting had never been important in Tenebrae, and many in Lucis could probably get away with not fighting. But as the nights grew longer, and more daemons appeared, that voice urged you to learn. Take up the blade to protect the light. He had said solemnly, though you’d decided to refer to him as Sage, or Sagesse. Sage never spoke to you but to direct your actions, and you had come to learn that when the voice spoke to you, it was best to listen. Especially if you were traveling. You’d learned the hard way what happened if you didn’t heed Sagesse’s advice.

It was on your way to the Chocobo Farm that you found the ruins of Costlemark Tower, and you had wanted to explore the ruins, expecting it to be full of weak daemons given that the centipede-like creatures outside were easily killed. Sage had told you immediately to camp or continue to the Chocobo Farm and to forget about the Tower ruins.

Instead, you had ignored him and ventured forth, watching as the ruins opened to you once the sun set. You only needed to descend to the first room before you sprinted out of there, only to be met with a Red Giant at the entrance of the ruins. You would have perished from your stupidity if Sage wasn’t kind enough to guide you to the campsite, where the glowing blue runes protected you from the Red Giant and a few Mindflayers staring you down.

So, lesson learned. You always listened to Sagesse from then on.

You’ve tried to hold a conversation with Sagesse a few times, but it didn’t seem that he wasn’t all that interested in what you had to say, often keeping silent no matter how much you thought or spoke aloud. But he kept you safe, so you suppose you shouldn’t bother him too much.

But his guidance led you back to your beloved.

~~~~~~

In leaving Tenebrae, you had diverted Ravus’s path away from his and your original fates. An early death, turned into a daemon and forced to obey. And you, left a widow in a world of darkness, forced to watch the people around you succumb to the darkness before perishing yourself. Your decision to leave had left scars on both yours and Ravus’s heart, but it had been for the best.

Reconsidering his actions and feelings, Ravus no longer sought after the Ring of Lucii. Instead, he placed his efforts in assisting his little sister with fulfilling her duty as the Oracle. Yes, perhaps it was inevitable that King Regis would perish by Glauca’s sword, and Insomnia reduced to ruin, but Ravus had not lost his arm that day, and would, therefore, not need a magitek prosthetic. And when Lunafreya was killed by Ardyn, Ravus would immediately defect from the Empire in order to assist Noctis traveling with the young Prince and his friends to Gralea to retrieve the Crystal. But most importantly, Ardyn would no longer be able to turn Ravus into a daemon.

Your love for Ravus would have killed him, but in walking away, you had saved him.

You would not see Ravus again until after the world had been sent into permanent darkness.

~~~~

You had been with the Hunters for a whole year now, although Dave had reluctantly took you on as his apprentice. Sagesse had directed you to the Hunter’s Headquarters very thoroughly after you had agreed to help “defend the light,” and you found yourself asking for training before your knew it. In the beginning, Dave had you on for a trial period given that you’ve only ever use a chef’s knife before. He quickly found that he should never let you near a melee-type weapon unless he wanted someone who wasn’t the enemy killed.

In the end, you took up the crossbow because you were absolute shit at close range combat. And with that settled, Dave eventually started sending you out on small missions. Killing Abar eventually came to hunting minor daemons. And while you’d gone solo for the longest while, Dave eventually had enough faith in you to lead a team of hunters when the world was thrown into permanent darkness. It wasn’t a mistake to have you lead a group of hunters, but it was a mistake to send your group of young hunters to fight a group of Sir Tonberries.

You watched with abject terror when a Sir Tonberry cut through another of your six man group. You had been sent to retrieve a stranded group of civilians, but the intel had been wrong about the number of enemies involved. It was reported that there were only two Sir Tonberries, which could have been dealt with slight difficulty, but not four Sir Tonberries plus Hobgoblins and two Nagas.

Clicking your tongue in thought, you dove out of the way in order to cover your teammates, “Vergil, Seb, take Devon and run back to the truck. Isa, Kelsey, I need you two to escort the civilians to the truck. I’ll draw the daemon’s attention.” You shouted, dodging the strikes from a Sir Tonberry to flip and shoot at the Naga. Your teammates start to protest, “I don’t want to hear any complaints! It’s either most of us get out of here, or we all die.” That shut them up, you grimaced before taking off your dog tag and throwing it at Vergil, who caught the metal thing with a fearful look. “If you’re fast enough, you’ll get back to me on time with reinforcements. If not... “ You didn’t finish your sentence, instead opting to push your teammates away. “Go!”

“We’ll be back, Y/N!” You could hear Isa shout back at you, but you don’t respond, too busy trying to buy them time.

Always willing to sacrifice, Y/N. You could hear the taunt in Sagesse’s voice sometimes, as much as he would like to simply be an unfeeling spirit. There is not much to feel for, mortal. And then he goes and speaks like an all knowing being, and then you aren’t quite sure whether you heard the first part at all. Tail to your right. You roll to the left, dodging the Naga’s tail before moving away from the Tonberries and Hobgoblins closing in. Hopefully you could survive an hour.

~~~~~~~~

After assisting Noctis in infiltrating Gralea, Ravus had gone back to Tenebrae to assist with the evacuation of his people, using Aranea’s airships to fly the surviving citizens of Tenebrae to Lestallum, where he worked to secure a safe home for his people. But with the influx of refugees from Accordo, neighboring towns, and Insomnia as well, space became tight. What more, with the limited space, there were a limited amount of Hunters who could protect those unwilling to fight. So Ravus found himself traveling with Gladiolus, Prompto, Ignis, and Aranea to the Hunter’s Headquarters a few months after Noctis was pulled into the Crystal.

He didn’t know what he had been expecting, a large and secure building perhaps, but it was not the open yet well-lit outdoor space that the Hunter Headquarters actually was. And least of all, Ravus didn’t expect the utter panic as various individuals hurried to and from, escorting civilians from a small truck. There was crying, but most of all, screaming. From what he could make out from the various voices speaking at once, a group of hunters had gone out to retrieve a stranded group of civilians at a nearby campsite. Their intel had been wrong about the types of daemons surfacing around the area, and were not prepared. And in order to get their job done, the group leader had sacrificed themselves as a decoy for their team to get out.

A noble act. Ravus thought, his heterochromatic eyes darted towards the dogtags that a young woman named Isa waved around.

“We have to go back and save them!” Isa demanded with a stomp of her feet.

The man she chased looked to be in his late thirties to early forties, hair closely shaved, and stern looking. But when Ravus took the time to look at the man more, there was an air of authority and subtle kindness. The man thought for a moment, eyes hard before shaking his head, “We can’t afford to send out more Hunters for your leader. I’m sorry, Isa.”

“But it’s Y/N!” the woman emphasised, drawing a surprised look from the leader, “Dave, Y/N was our leader during this mission.” When the older man didn’t move, Isa drew herself to her full height, a less than impressive 152cm, but she still went to sternly cup Dave’s face in her hands. “Y/N L/N,” Ravus’s eyes widened in shock at the leader’s full name. “Dave, you trained Y/N, and I know you have a soft spot for them. And if you have any love for me, or for Y/N, you’ll let me gather a team to go after them.”

The older man let out a long suffering sigh before relenting, “Fine.” though he quickly pulled Isa into a kiss. “Gather whoever is willing.” Dave’s eyes soften for a moment, “But come back to me, Isa.”

The younger woman smiled fondly, brown eyes twinkling with love, and nodded, “You know I would walk to the ends of Eos to get back to you.”

And it is at that point that Ravus turns away, feeling like he should not bear witness to the privacies of the couple. Instead, his mind is filled with thoughts of you. His beloved that he had pushed away two years ago. And now, he was so close to finding you again, only to be under threat to lose you again. No. The former Prince shook his head and stomped over to his new friends. He could not lose you. Not again.

Gladiolus noticed the stormy eyed man approaching their trio and directed a worried look at Ravus. “Is there a problem?” Ever since Lunafreya’s death, Ravus had joined them on their journey, and while it was strange to have a man who used to be the enemy on their team, they had all tried to be civil with one another. But as it turns out, Ravus was actually a man that Gladio could respect.

Ravus clenched and unclenched his right fist, his head bowed slightly, “There is to be a mission to retrieve the escort team’s fallen leader. And I have decided to join the effort.”

Ignis, though his world was still dark, could imagine the high commander’s posture given the tone of the man’s voice. It was dire, but not as subtle as when they first encountered one another at the Imperial base nearly a year prior. A life was in danger. “Do you require our assistance?”

“-Wait just a minute.” Gladiolus interjected, much to Ravus’s annoyance. He had wanted to keep details sparse so that they could leave immediately. “I want to know why you care about this mission.” When Ravus didn’t speak, Gladio could only go on, “You know the team leader, don’t you? What I don’t understand is how that person could be important to you. Don’t get me wrong, we will go with you, but I just want to know why.”

The former Prince let out a heavy sigh, his face still stern, but his eyes softened ever so slightly, “Y/N L/N.”

Prompto cocked his head to the side, blonde hair rustling with the motion. The gunman recognized the name, “Dave’s apprentice? That’s the leader’s name?”

“Yes. But I knew Y/N long before they came to live in Lucis.” Ravus’s eyes darted towards Isa as she left Dave, watching as the young woman asked around for volunteers to help retrieve you. “We were friends in our youth, and I lo-... I’ve come to hold them quite dear to me.” Ravus cursed himself for nearly saying his feelings.

Meanwhile, Gladio and Ignis were not fooled, having heard Ravus’s slip up. Though both hid their smirks well. Instead, Gladiolus strolled over to the older man and clapped his shoulder, shocking Ravus. “Well. We should go join the retrieval team, then.”

As the younger men left to go speak to Isa, Ravus stood in deep thought. He had thought that he lost everything. He had failed to protect his beloved sister, yet he had succeeded in bringing Noctis to Gralea as well as bestowing King Regis’s glaive to the now sleeping prince. And he had pushed you away two years ago when he should have kept you by his side. Now, he had a chance to find you again… Ravus brow set into a determined stare, and he marched with confidence towards the truck, which Gladio, Ignis, and Prompto had piled into. “Wait for me, Y/N.”

~~~~~~~~

There were various hisses and cries from below you, but you could only wince. Your wince was heard by your tiny companion, who only purred and cuddled into your side, careful to keep its weapon away from you. Seriously, it was the cutest, yet deadliest little thing, a product of a stupid decision you made earlier, but you didn’t regret it. Simply having a tiny Tonberry cuddling up to you was adorable.

The little thing had wandered into the battle and had tried to attack you along with its more powerful counterparts… and then the Hobgoblins, for whatever reason decided to gang up on the little one. And seeing how the Sir Tonberries and Nagas weren’t going to help the little daemon, you’d run over to rescue it, getting jabbed in the side by a Sir Tonberry before you sprinted to a cliff face and climbed, putting your new friend in the hood of your cloak as you climbed… and after a while, the Tonberry actually warmed up to you… but now you were stuck.

“Corvo, we’re in some deep shit.” You muttered, pulling the tiny green daemon into your arms. It only purred, nuzzling its snout under your chin. “And Sagesse hasn’t been speaking to me at all.” you pouted, wondering where the miracle voice in your head had gone.

“Keu?” The Tonberry tilted its head to the side in question.

You merely sighed and pat your little friend’s head gently, “Never you mind, Corvo. Let’s just concentrate on surviving, savvy?” But not only ten seconds after you spoke, you saw the unmistakable headlights of a hunter truck rolling down the road. “Well, damn. They actually came back for me, Corvo.” Your little friend cooed in worry. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure they don’t hurt you.” Corvo gave out a happy purr before hopping into your hood, holding out it’s lantern to light the area around you.

The daemons below had noticed the truck’s return and had left the area below you to surround the truck. You couldn’t make out the individuals that came to rescue you no matter how much you squinted, but you started climbing down regardless, wincing occasionally when you irritated the wound at your side.

Once you were down, you gently pulled Corvo into your arms and ran towards the truck. You had lost your crossbow earlier, but you were better off without it, running without any weight carrying you down. “We’re almost home free Corvo.”

You were nearly to the truck when you saw the group that had come to rescue you, and you nearly tripped when you saw the white haired man fighting alongside the Prince’s companions. Ravus. You screamed, a high pitched stressed sound akin to a mix of a behemoth and a daggerquil, and even Corvo looked up at you in alarm. Though you probably shouldn’t have screamed, because the next thing you knew, you felt a deep pain in your back before falling. From the floor, you glanced back to see a Sir Tonberry advancing towards you, and little Corvo trying to protect you. Suddenly, a bullet collided with the Sir Tonberry, and you were lifted by the arms, though in your daze, you managed to call out for Corvo, catching the little Tonberry in your arms as it jumped into you.

You blinked in and out of consciousness, the darkness creeping at the edges of your vision, but the last thing you saw were the worried and scared heterochromatic eyes of the man you love.

~~~~~~~

Ravus held your unconscious form to him tightly as he boarded the truck, the other hunters fending off the daemons behind him. His body trembled in fear when he examined the deep cut in your side and the burned slash on your back. He’d heard you scream at him. Saw your shocked face and the Sir Tonberry that crept up behind your back. But try as he might, had wasn’t fast enough to warn you, wasn’t fast enough to protect you. There was a small coo from the Tonberry latched onto your form, it’s tiny fish tail tucked between its legs as it showed its worry. It was a strange thing, having a tame Tonberry protect you, but Ravus was grateful for the little daemon’s help nonetheless.

“You succeeded where I nearly failed, little one.” Ravus cautiously pet the Tonberry, “My thanks.”

~~~~~~~~

You woke up to the soft beeps of a heart monitor and the soft coos from Corvo sleeping on your chest. Blinking the sleep out of your eyes, you moved to sit up from the medical bed, aware that various tubes were attached to your arms and that the room lights were dimmed slightly.

“Y/N.”

Your head snapped to the left and it took everything in you not to look away from the tall white haired man across the room. It had been two years since you’d seen Ravus. The last time had been… you averted your eyes… If you are unable to stand by my decisions, then I don’t need you by my side. Leave. The unforgettable cold stare of his blue and brown eyes was still ingrained in your mind. What were you to say to a man you loved, but didn’t want you by his side? You couldn’t come up with anything, so you settled with a, “Hi.”

Ravus furrowed his brow at your response. He didn’t know what he was expecting when you awoke, he had pushed you away and hurt you those years ago after all. But he didn’t expect you to be unable to meet his eyes. Unable to speak to him. Once upon a time the two of you were as thick as thieves, never withdrawing from the other’s company. And now, because of him, everything was so different. What does one say to one that they have wronged?

Remember what you told me, big brother? “Go to Noctis. Show him the truth of your heart.” Perhaps it is high time that you showed Y/N the truth of yours.

He could hear his sister’s voice as if she were still alive, still standing next to him, wise beyond her years and smiling encouragingly.

You heard his quick footsteps, and quickly turned to face him in alarm, but he had pulled you into an embrace, careful not to squish Corvo, who rested on your lap. His left arm wrapped around your shoulder, and his right came up to hold your cheek. And you’d only a few seconds to stare into his eyes before they closed and his lips were pressed against your own. You barely had enough time to kiss back before he withdrew, and you saw that he was shedding tears. “Why-?”

Ravus cut you off with another kiss, deep and pure, muttering against you, “Please don’t leave me. I’m sorry. I’m truly sorry, Y/N. I’m a fool for pushing you away. Forgive me.” He gripped your shoulders tightly as the tears fell, his face losing its sternness as he confessed, “I love you, Y/N. Forgive me for not seeing it until I had pushed you away.”

And you kissed back. Because you had loved his man for so long, and to hear him tell you that he needed you by his side, that he loved you back… There were no proper words, only actions.

“I love you, Ravus. I won’t leave. Never again.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There is a rumor that the Astrals loved to play with the lives of mankind. That among their beloved playthings and pawns, they often chose favorites. Ramuh favored the Prince of Lucis. Titan and Shiva favored Lunafreya. And Ifrit favored Ardyn. But what of Leviathan and Bahamut? Leviathan held no love for man, and therefore held none in favor. But Bahamut... once in a millennia, Bahamut would come to favor a human, though only through proving their worth. But just this once... He had chosen two. One Ravus Nox Fleuret and one Y/N L/N.

~~~~

Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed my work, please consider buying me a Ko-fi!

#ravus nox fleuret #ravus x reader #shian imagines #final fantasy xv #final fantasy xv imagines #final fantasy xv au #lunafreya nox fleuret #bahamut #gladiolus amicitia #ignis scentia #ignis stupeo scientia #prompto argentum #noctis lucis caelum

261 notes · View notes