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live-the-fangirl-life · 3 years ago

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The One After Rowan Says Aelin

The Court - Throne of Glass x FRIENDS - Fic Series

S5, E1 : The court deals with the aftermath of a catastrophic slip-up.

Fic Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Read on Ao3

Warnings: Language, Mentions of Sex

7038 words

*******

“Repeat after me,” instructed the minister, standing before the bride and groom. “I, Rowan…”

“I, Rowan,” the silver-haired man repeated.

“Take thee, Lyria…”

“Take thee, Aelin…”

Shocked gasps spread through the chapel as it took Rowan a moment to realize his mistake. Eyes flying wide, he gripped Lyria’s hand tighter who was staring at him in disbelief.

“Lyria. Lyria.” Rowan emphasized with a forced chuckle.

Stunned, the minister leaned toward Lyria before asking hesitantly, “Shall I go on?”

From her seat a few aisles back, Aelin gaped as she listened to Rowan. He said her name. Her name.

It had to mean something, right? A groom doesn’t just same the wrong name during his wedding for no reason, right? Did he still want her? Love her? Like she loved him?

“He,” Aelin stuttered, leaning forward to whispering the ear of the woman sitting in front of her, “he said Aelin, right? Do you think I should go up there?” The woman didn’t pay her any attention, focused on the scene at the head of the chapel.

The minister was still waiting on Lyria to respond as she tried not to meet the eyes of people looking on with surprise and pity.

“Yes, yes, do go on.” She decided, forcing a calm expression over her humiliation and anger.

The minister nodded and announced, “I think we’d better start again. Rowan, repeat after me. I, Rowan…”

Rowan cleared his throat and said, “I, Rowan,”

“Take thee, Ly-ri-a” the minister dragged out the woman’s name as if speaking to a child.

Rowan shot an exasperated glare at the officiant but looked down at the brunette and repeated, “Take thee, Lyria.” She glared at him and forced another chuckle from his lips as he turned towards the guests and joked, “Like there’d be anybody else.”

Even Aelin cringed at the horrible attempt at humor, but it was no match for the way Lyria was glaring daggers at him.

“As my lawfully wedded wife, in sickness and in health, till death parts us.” The minister continued.

“As my lawfully wedded wife, in sickness and in health, until death parts us.” Rowan leaned in closer, “Really, I do. Lyria.”

People were still muttering as the minister asked for the rings.

“Lyria, place this ring on Rowan’s finger as a symbol of your bond everlasting.”

Rowan flinched as she jammed the ring forcefully onto his finger.

“Rowan, place this ring in Lyria’s hand as a symbol of the love that encircles you forever.”

“Happy to.” He chirped and gave her the ring.

Aelin, and everyone else, watched what seemed to be a train wreck unfolding as the minister declared, “Rowan and Lyria have made their declarations and it gives me great pleasure to declare them husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

People visibly winced as Rowan bent to kiss Lyria and she turned away from him only allowing him to brush his lips against her cheek. She escaped down the aisle, refusing to grab Rowan’s outstretched hand.

Aelin thought she heard Lyria mutter Just keep smiling to Rowan as they passed by.

Fenrys was standing next to Lorcan near the other bridesmaids and groomsmen. He nudged the taller man in the ribs and quipped, “Well, that went well.”

Lorcan glared down at the blond and rolled his eyes, “It could’ve been worse,” he suggested sarcastically, “he could’ve stabbed her.”

***

Aelin stood with Elide, Lorcan, and Fenrys in the lobby of the reception hall as they watched Rowan try to coax Lyria out of the bathroom she’d locked herself in. They could hear her shouting at him through the door.

“You’ve ruined everything!” she called out, furiously, “This is a nightmare! My friends and family are out there! How can I face them? How can you do this me?”

The group cringed as other guests look toward the scene.

Fenrys watched them a moment before asking, “No matter what happens with Rowan and Lyria, we still get cake right?”

Lorcan snorted as Rowan tried to open the door again, “All right Lyr, you take your time sweetie. I’ll be right out here.” He plastered a fake cheerful smile on as he noticed his friends watching him with pity, “She just fixing her makeup.”

“I hate you!” Lyria screamed through the door.

“And, I love you!” he called.

Rowan walked back towards his friends. Fenrys, trying to lighten the mood, teased “Man, bad time to say the wrong name, huh?” He wiggled his eyebrows even as Rowan fixed him with an incredulous glare.

“Thanks, Fen,” Rowan muttered as he clipped Fenrys on the back of the head. Then Rowan sighed and looked around at the depressing reception hall and tried to put on a happy face that came across as more of a grimace. “People should be dancing; this is a party!” Rowan whirled back towards Fenrys and urged, “Come on Fen, dance!”

Fenrys looked around at the empty dancefloor and his friends waiting patiently as he tried to dance in the music-less space for a moment before giving up and walking away.

***

Across the room, Lyria’s mother answered her ringing phone.

“Yes? Who is this?”

“Uh, hello, this is Rowan Whitethorn’s personal physician, Dr. Shifter.”

In New York, Lysandra cringed at the obviously fake accent she was attempting but pushed forward. After making Fenrys keep his phone on during the wedding ceremony and hearing Rowan’s horrible fumble, she was trying to help them fix the situation. To her and Aedion’s disappointment, they couldn’t attend the wedding due to Lysandra’s pregnancy; she was due any day now and was instructed not to fly. So, she’d have to help with damage control from across the pond.

“Who?” the older woman asked.

“Yes,” Lysandra insisted, deepening the ridiculous accent, “I’ve discovered Rowan forgot to take his…” she trailed off and Aedion prompted brain medicine, “brain medicine.” She winced at how horrible of an excuse that was, “uh, now without it, uh, in the brain of Rowan, uh women’s names are interchangeable, through…through no fault of his own.”

Lyria’s mother sighed, exasperated, “Oh my Gods, Lysandra.”

Lysandra winced again, her fake accent was as horrible as she thought.

“No, not Lysandra, Dr. Shifter.” Lysandra insisted and then exclaimed, “Oh no! You have it, too!”

The next thing Lysandra heard was the dial tone as the woman hung up.

***

Elide stood by the buffet table, filling her plate when she felt Lorcan come up next to her.

“Hey,” He said in a low voice.

She glanced up at him to find him already looking at her, “Hi.”

He looked apologetic, almost nervous, in a way he normally wasn’t, and rubbed the back of his neck. “Wow, uh, I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but, I know we had plans to meet up tonight and,” he stumbled over his words again as they both flashed back to the night before.

Lorcan opened the door to his hotel room to see Elide standing there.

“Hey, El, what’s up?” he stepped aside to let her in. Lorcan watched as she looked around the room, identical to her own, he was sure, and turn to face him.

He blamed it on the jetlag and the craziness of the day, but he couldn’t stop himself from admiring her. She was beautiful, and intelligent, and funny. She was also one of his best friends. Normally, he pushed down any feelings that weren’t ‘best friend’ feelings—feelings that made him want to throw caution to the wind and kiss her.

“Hey,” she said, looking at him through her lashes. “Is Fenrys here?”

Lorcan shook his head and saw relief flash across her face as he said, “Last time I saw him, he was heading out the door with that one bride’s maid and a bucket of strawberries.”

Elide raised a brow and snorted. “Sounds about right.”

He hummed in agreement, “You okay? You’re not still thinking about what that idiot told you, are you?”

That idiot being the stumbling, drunk man who’d bumped into Elide, spilled half his drink on her, looked at her and then her dress that she adored, and declared the stain an improvement, before walking away and leaving her to replay the insult in her head.

She snorted again, but it lacked any amusement. “What? You mean the jibe about how I looked better covered in scotch?” she sighed and looked away, “Whatever. I was obviously wrong about this dress.”

She looked down, but he grunted his disagreement, making her glance back up.

“What?” She questioned, confused at the look he was giving her.

“Ignore him,” Lorcan insisted, “I mean, you were the most beautiful person in the room tonight.” He told her, immediately wishing he hadn’t said that because that didn’t sound like a ‘best friend’ feeling.

But, instead of looking at him weirdly, she stepped closer and her eyes were…hopeful?

“Really?”

He cleared his throat but closed the distance between them, “Are you kidding? You’re the most beautiful woman in most rooms.”

Elide surged forward and kissed him.

It was perfect, it was Elide, it was—

“Whoa,” Lorcan pulled back and stared at her in disbelief, “What’s going on? You and I just kissed! You and I are kissing?” his brain couldn’t catch up.

“Well, not anymore.” She mumbled.

He searched her face, “How drunk are you?”

She offered him a smile, “Drunk enough to know that I want to do this. Not so drunk that you should feel guilty about taking advantage.”

Even through her quip, he could see the sincerity, and something else, something he couldn’t pinpoint, in her eyes.

“That’s the perfect amount!”

Then their lips connected again, and hands were moving, and suddenly they were on the bed.

Elide leaned back and Lorcan hovered over her as she broke away and said, “You know what’s weird?”

“What?” Lorcan trailed kisses down her neck and she shivered.

“This doesn’t feel weird.” She breathed.

He removed his mouth from her skin and looked into her face. She was right, this didn’t feel weird. It felt right.

Grinning, they both leaned back in and enjoyed a very satisfying night.

The next morning, Elide woke up in a hotel room with a large, warm body pressed against her. She smiled, thinking about what she and Lorcan did. And did. And did. Turning in his arms, she found he was already awake and watching her.

“Good morning” she yawned

He smirked, “G’morning.”

They spent who-knows-how-long lazily kissing until a loud knock sounded at the door.

Panicking, Elide’s wide eyes met Lorcan’s and she ducked beneath the covers just as Rowan barged into the room.

“I’m getting married today!” she heard from her position tucked into Lorcan’s side, the blankets soon becoming suffocating.

Lorcan’s hand snuck under the cover to rest in her hair as he slumped down in the bed, trying to make it less obvious that Elide was there. “Morning, Whitethorn.”

Elide heard Rowan close the door as he left and she popped back up, her hair in complete disarray, as she glanced at a now smirking Lorcan “Do you think he knew I was here?”

She’d left to get ready for the ceremony soon after that. Just before she needed to get to her seat, Lorcan casually found her and pulled her aside. Clearing this throat, he said, “What we did last night was...” he trailed off, not knowing what to say.

“Stupid.” She offered.

“Totally stupid.” He agreed, nodding.

“What were we thinking?” She asked, fixing the sleeve of her dress.

They lapsed into silence a moment, neither looking at the other, before Lorcan asked, “I’m coming over tonight though, right?”

“Oh yeah, definitely.” Elide confirmed and subtly winked as she walked to her seat.

Lorcan kept talking, drawing them both back into the present, “I’m kind of worried about what it might do to our friendship.”

Elide sighed, “I know,” She glanced around and asked him worriedly, “How could we have let this happen?”

She didn’t regret the previous night, if anything, it was the fact that she didn’t regret it that alarmed her. She valued her friendship with Lorcan so much and hoped that whatever this was didn’t mess that up. Even though they both seemed to thoroughly enjoy themselves, a fact she was reminded of as he added, “Seven times.”

She allowed a smirk and she saw it mirrored on his own mouth.

“Well, you know, we were away…” She tried to justify.

Lorcan nodded eagerly, “In a foreign, romantic country…”

Elide hummed in agreement, “I blame London.”

“London,” Lorcan grunted disapprovingly.

They looked at each other for a long moment before Elide said, “So um, while we’re still in London,” Elide watched as Lorcan raised a brow, waiting for her to continue, “I mean, we can keep doing it right?”

Lorcan suppressed a grin. “Well, I don’t see that we have a choice. But, when we’re back home, we don’t do it.”

Elide nodded, though part of her didn’t want to think that far ahead, “Only here.”

Lorcan stepped closer to her, towering over her shorter frame, “You know, I saw a wine cellar downstairs—”

“I’ll meet you there in two minutes.”

Elide didn’t miss the wide smirk he flashed her before he disappeared around the corner.

She counted to one hundred and was just about to follow Lorcan out when Aelin rushed up to her side.

“El, I have to ask you something,” Aelin said desperately.

As much as Elide loved Aelin and wanted to help her, she knew Lorcan would be in the wine cellar now waiting for her to join him.

“Now?”

Aelin didn’t catch the impatience in Elide’s question. “El, Rowan said my name up there. I mean, come on, I can’t just pretend that didn’t happen, can I?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” This was definitely a conversation she wished they were having any other time.

Aelin urged Elide for advice, “Elide, what should I do?”

“Just, uh, do the right thing.”

“What?” Aelin asked, clearly upset Elide wasn’t giving her her full attention.

Normally, Elide would be offering advice and suggestions, making sure Aelin didn’t do something too insane, but at the moment she couldn’t keep her mind from wandering back to the night before and the feel of Lorcan’s hands on her, as she babbled, “Toe the line, thread the needle, Think outside the box!”

Elide tried slipping away but Aelin stopped her again, “Whoa, wait,” Aelin sighed, “I think I’m just going to talk to Rowan about what he thinks it meant.”

Elide halted and turned back towards her friend. “Aelin, wait” the blonde met her eyes, and Elide said regretfully, “No, he’s married. Married. If you don’t realize that, I can’t help you.”

Aelin closed her eyes and nodded, “Okay, you’re right,” as Aelin opened her eyes Elide offered a small, sad smile. Her smile dropped as Aelin whipped around and finished, “You’re right, you can’t help me.”

Elide rolled her eyes but finally left to find the wine cellar. She wandered for a little while before she found the cellar, but no Lorcan.

Making her way back to the reception hall, she saw him back at the refreshment table.

“Where were you?” she hissed, “We were supposed to meet in the cellar.”

“Forget it, that’s off.” He told her under his breath.

“Why?” Elide asked incredulously

Almost as if he heard her question, Lyria’s very drunk father wandered into the hall and slurred loudly, “The next tour of the wine cellar will plan in two…in two minutes.”

Elide cringed and shared a nod with Lorcan as Fenrys walked up to them with a large steak on his plate.

“Fen,” Elide demanded, “what are you doing? You promised Lysandra you wouldn’t eat meat until she had the baby!”

Lysandra, ever the animal lover, had been a vegetarian for as long as Elide had known the woman. To Lysandra’s horror, one of her pregnancy cravings was meat, and as much as she tried, she couldn’t help but give in. After an almost meltdown, Fenrys offered to abstain from eating meat for the duration of her pregnancy so that she could and, as Lysandra’s argument, no additional animals would be harmed. When Elide tried to question why Fenrys was doing this and not, say, Aedion, Aedion cut her off before Lysandra could hear the suggestion.

Fenrys looked between Elide and his steak, “Well, I figured we’re in another country, so it doesn’t count.”

Elide met Lorcan’s eyes and they shared a secret grin

“That’s true,” she conceded.

“The man’s got a point,” Lorcan agreed.

***

Aelin found Rowan hovering outside the bathroom door.

“Hey,” she said gently.

He startled but offered her a small, strained smile, “Hi.”

“Sorry things aren’t working out so well.” Aelin winced, unable to think of anything better to say.

Rowan shook his head and forced a laugh, “Oh no! It could be better,” he nodded and then looked towards her anxiously and asked, “but’s going to be okay, right?”

Aelin hated this. She hated having to stand here with the man she was desperately in love with and reassure him that his marriage to another woman would be alright. And as much as she honestly doubted it—because what woman wants to hear her fiancé say another woman’s name at the alter—Rowan was first, and foremost, her friend.

“Oh yeah!” She said as cheerfully as she could manage, “Of course, I mean, she’d gonna get over this, you know?” Aelin hoped not but refrained from saying that given Rowan’s dejected face. “I mean, so you said my name, you probably just said it because you saw me there. If you’d have seen a hawk in the window, you would’ve said, ‘I take thee, hawk.’

She internally cringed but Rowan nodded, reassuring himself.

Aelin went on, “You know it didn’t mean anything, it was just a mistake.” She pressed closer and allowed a sliver of hope to show in her eyes as she asked again, hoping he would disagree with her, “It didn’t mean anything, right?”

After a second’s hesitation that she may have just imagined, Rowan’s brows furrowed and he insisted, “No! No, of course, it didn’t mean anything.” He glanced towards the door then back to Aelin. “I mean, I can understand why Lyria would think it meant something, you know, because…because it’s you…” he trailed off and Aelin briefly saw highlights of their relationship flash before her eyes.

The museum dates, the love confessions, the times with their friends. She saw them break apart and mend back together. She saw a new friendship bloom, and her own feelings of love resurface even as he found happiness somewhere else.

She cleared her throat, bringing herself back to the moment, “Right.”

Stepping closer to the closed door, Rowan yelled “It didn’t! It didn’t mean anything!”

Aelin was prevented from saying something stupid as Fenrys approached and told Rowan, “Rowan, hey man, the band’s ready outside for your first dance with Lyria,” Fen trailed off as Rowan glared at him.

“Oh, oh, the band’s ready?” Rowan asked with fake interest. “Well, I—we have to do what the band says,” he whirled on Fenrys and shouted, “I don’t care about the stupid band!”

Fenrys shot Rowan an annoyed glace and wiped his face, “You spit on me, man.”

Rowan muttered a sorry before Fenrys asked, “Lyria is kind of taking a long time, huh?”

A memory surfaced in Aelin’s mind and she laughed, “You know, when I locked myself in the bathroom at my wedding,” she paused as the horrid image of Arobynn appeared but faded away as she looked back at Rowan, “it was because I was trying to pop the window out of its frame.”

The guys chuckled at the thought of Aelin maneuvering an outrageous wedding dress through a window.

“Had to get the hell out of there, you know?” she chuckled, too, before all three of them abruptly stopped and whipped their heads around to the bathroom door.

Oh shit.

“Lyria!” Rowan banged on the door, “Lyria, I’m coming in.”

Rowan threw the door open and he, Fenrys, and Aelin took in the empty bathroom, open window, and curtain flying in the wind.

“Well, look at that,” Aelin observed, “same thing.”

***

Elide and Lorcan escaped the reception hall amidst the chaos of a missing Lyria. They hastily made it to Elide’s room, hands clasped the entire way as Lorcan pulled her down the hall.

Laughing, she opened the door, fully ready to haul Lorcan towards the bed, but froze as she caught sight of Aelin sitting on her bed.

“Oh my Gods, Aelin! Hi.” Elide yelped, feeling Lorcan stumble into her as he froze, too.

He cleared his throat, “Oh, hey Aelin.” The fake calm tone he used to mask his irritation sounded too high for his ears, enough so that Aelin raised a brow at him before shaking her head and dismissing him.

Aelin didn’t wait for either of them to say another word as she exclaimed, “Rowan said my name. Okay?” She moved to sit on the edge of the bed with a slightly frantic look in her eye. “My name. Rowan said my name up there, that obviously means that he still loves me!”

Aelin looked back and forth between Elide and Lorcan desperately hoping one of them would validate what she said, but they stared at her in silence. She rolled her eyes and huffed a breath, “Fine, don’t believe me. I know I’m right.” She pointed a finger at the pair before running a hand through her hair, “Do you guys want to go downstairs and get a drink?”

At her inquisitive stare Lorcan said, “Yes, we do,” and as Elide shot him a look, he added, “But, we have to change first.”

Elide nodded vigorously, “Yes, I want to change. Why don’t you go down and get us a table?”

Aelin looked at her weirdly, but nodded as Elide told her, “We’ll be down in ten minutes.”

Lorcan subtly squeezed her shoulders and corrected, “twenty minutes.”

Lorcan didn’t miss the quick, approving look Elide shot him, or the subtle wink that Aelin was too preoccupied to notice.

The blonde hummed in agreement and grabbed her bag, “Okay, sure.”

Just as Aelin was about to leave, the phone at the bedside table started ringing. Answering, she asked, “Hello?”

Lorcan stifled an irritated groan.

“Oh Lys!” Aelin faced Elide and Lorcan as she settled down into the bed, “It’s Lysandra.”

“Great,” Elide mumbled and forced a smile as Lorcan didn’t hold back his next annoyed grunt.

Ignoring Aelin’s conversation and taking advantage of her distraction, Lorcan leaned down to say into Elide’s ear, “Hey, why don’t we go change in my room?”

She turned towards him with her brows furrowed, “But my clothes are—” her brows shot up as she caught the dark gleam in his eye, “Oh.”

At her answering smirk, he grabbed her hand and pulled her from the room.

***

Once Lorcan made sure Fenrys wasn’t in their shared room, he pulled Elide inside and locked the door.

His hands gripped her hips, pulling her towards him as her hand found its place in the collar of his shirt before wrapping around his neck and pulling him for a searing kiss.

Lorcan wound a hand in her hair and pulled back enough to look at her in her dress, “El, you look—”

She smirked, but said, “No time for that,” and went back to trying to get his shirt off. Their hands roamed each other’s bodies hungrily until a loud knock sounded at the door.

They pulled away as Fenrys’ voice called out, “Hey, dude,” Lorcan closed his eyes and released a slow breath, trying to reign in his fraying temper, “let me in. I’ve got a girl out here!”

Lorcan swore as he heard giggling from the hallway, and glanced at Elide whose hair was now fluffed from where his hands had run through it, and her dress that was scrunched at her hip.

“Well, I’ve got a girl in here.”

Fenrys scoffed, “No you don’t, I just saw you go in there with Elide.”

Elide huffed and Lorcan said through gritted teeth, “Well, we’re…we’re hanging out in here.”

“Look,” Fenrys insisted again, “Which one of us is gonna be having sex in there, me or you?”

It took all of Lorcan’s willpower not to reach through the door at throttle Fenrys as he growled menacingly, “I guess I’d have to say you.”

***

Realizing that neither of their rooms were going to grant them any privacy, Elide and Lorcan went to the one place they knew wouldn’t be occupied tonight.

The honeymoon suite.

“Do you really think this is okay?” Elide asked. As much as she wanted to rip Lorcan’s clothes off and climb on top of him, she suddenly felt guilty about using Rowan and Lyria’s suite. Not that they would be using it.

As if hearing her thoughts, Lorcan muttered, “Well, Rowan and Lyria aren’t gonna use it.”

“I know, I just—” she bit her lip and looked around, “I don’t know if I feel right about this.”

Lorcan stopped trying to remove the excruciating number of throw pillows and walked towards elide. “El, El, El,” he murmured, grabbing her face in his hands, “this is the honeymoon suite.”

“Exactly.” She retorted.

He rolled his eyes, “This room expects sex.” He chuckled at her raised brow but said, “The room would be disappointed if it didn’t get sex. All of the other honeymoon suites would think it was a loser.”

She snorted, “You’re an idiot.” The insult did have any of her usually bite.

He grinned, “Maybe, but I’m an idiot you want to fuck. And now we have an unoccupied room.”

Elide rolled her eyes but grinned back, “Okay.”

“Okay.”

They’d just reached the bed when the door flew open and Lorcan barely contained a long string of curses.

“Lyria?” Rowan called, his eyes scanning the room.

Elide shot Lorcan a look and asked Rowan, “You haven’t found her?”

Rowan groaned, “No, I’ve looked everywhere!”

Lorcan, very helpfully, responded, “Well, you couldn’t have looked everywhere or else you would’ve found her!”

Elide almost pitied Lorcan for being on the end of Rowan’s glare.

“I think you should keep looking,” she suggested, drawing Rowan’s attention back.

“Yeah,” Lorcan nodded, “for about thirty minutes.”

“Or forty-five,” she quickly suggested.

Lorcan’s eyes flashed to hers and a wicked gleam shown there as he said to Rowan, without taking his eyes off her, “in forty-five minutes you could find her a few times.”

Elide grinned but quickly schooled her features as Rowan turned back in her direction.

“No,” Rowan insisted, sitting down heavily on the bed, “For all I know, she’s trying to find me but couldn’t because I kept moving around. No, from now on, I’m staying in one place. Right here.”

Elide nodded, “Well, it’s getting late.” She shot a look at Lorcan and he quickly followed her to the door.

“Yeah,” he added, “we’re gonna go.”

“Actually, do you guys mind staying here for a while?” Rowan asked, looking pitiful and so unlike his usual self.

“We have to get up early and catch that plane for New York,” Lorcan argued.

Rowan sighed, “Yeah, that’s fine.”

Elide stared at Rowan a moment and had an internal battle with herself. Should she be a good friend and support Rowan when he’s upset and hurting…or should she escape and have the best sex of her life.

Groaning at her apparent conscious, she glanced at Lorcan and tried to convey that they weren’t about to skip out now. He sighed heavily but nodded almost imperceptibly.

“But,” he said through gritted teeth, “we’ll stay here with you.”

Rowan visibly brightened. “Thanks, guys. I really appreciate this.”

***

They stayed like that for hours, Rowan eventually falling asleep across both Lorcan and Elide, keeping them in place and awake despite their exhaustion, desire, and exasperation.

Lorcan groaned and dragged a hand down his face, “We have to leave for New York in an hour.”

Elide sighed, “I know,” she glanced at Lorcan and then at the doors to the suite. “I’ve been eyeing those doors; they look pretty soundproof, don’t you think?” she asked hopefully.

Lorcan winced, “We can’t do that that’s insane. I mean ‘A’ he could wake up,” his eyes flicked down to Rowan who was totally passed out, then back to her, “and ‘B’ you know, let’s go for it.”

She grinned and they both tried to carefully remove themselves from Rowan until a knock pounded and Rowan shot up and stumbled off them.

“Lyr? Lyria?” He asked, still half asleep, “Lyria?” Rowan ran out of the room and through the suite to fling the door open. It wasn’t Lyria, just her parents.

Her mother leveled a look at Rowan, “No, You can forget about Lyria, she’s not with us. We’ve come to get her things”

“Wait,” Rowan stammered, “where—where is she?”

“She in hiding,” her father answered, “She’s utterly humiliated. She doesn’t want to see you ever again.”

“Hey, you guys, check this out, a whole cart was just left—" Aelin sauntered in with tiny bottles of hair products in her hands but froze as she looked between Rowan, Lyria’s parents, Elide, and Lorcan.

“Goodbye, Whitethorn.” Lyria’s father said

“Hold on!” Rowan insisted, stopping the parents from leaving, “Look, your daughter and I are supposed to leave tonight for our honeymoon, now you,” he took another breath, “you tell her that I’m gonna be at that airport and I hope that she’ll be there too.”

Rowan ran a frustrated hand through his hair, making the ends stick up, and explained, “Yeah, I said Aelin’s name, but it didn’t mean anything, okay?”

Aelin tried her best not to let her shattering heart show on her face as she slumped into a seat at the back of the room.

He continued, “She’s just a friend and that’s all!”

She knew Rowan wasn’t trying to hurt her, Hellas, he had no idea that she was still in love with him—he was just trying to get his wife back. Gods. His wife. How could Aelin be so stupid?

She felt Elide and Lorcan sink into the chairs next to her and Elide’s subtle, comforting hand on her back.

“She’s just afraid,” Rowan kept saying, “Now just tell Lyria that I love her and that I can’t imagine spending my life with anyone else. Please, promise me that you’ll tell her that.”

Aelin blocked out any other conversation.

***

Elide was tired. She was exhausted from staying up all night having to deal with distressed grooms, interrupting friends, and runaway brides—if she was being honest, Elide wasn’t all that upset over the last one. She kind of hated that Rowan married Lyria, she’d never gotten a good vibe from the woman, not to mention everything that was still between Rowan and Aelin…

Sitting next to Lorcan on their flight home, she leaned in close to rest her shoulder against his arm and smiled a bit as he turned towards her.

“You know,” she said, “maybe it’s best that we never got to do it again.”

He made a noise of agreement even if she could’ve sworn she saw disappointment in his eyes.

“Yeah, it makes that one ti—night special, I guess” He almost said time but corrected himself because they did it way more times than just fucking once. A smirk played at his lips as realized, “Technically, El, we are still over international waters.”

Her eyes lit up and she grinned as she maneuvered out of her seat and told him, “I’m gonna go to the bathroom, maybe I’ll see you there?” She asked coyly. Elide had taken half a step before turning back with a worried glance at him, “Airplane bathrooms are tiny, are you going to fit?”

Lorcan leaned back and smirked fully, “I’ll fit.”

She scoffed at the way his eyes darkened—it was obvious he wasn’t talking about the bathroom—but walked back there anyway.

He leaned over to watch her walk away and caught her sly wink as she slipped into the bathroom, before facing forward and coming face to face with Fenrys who’d taken Elide’s seat the moment she was gone.

“Gods,” Lorcan jumped, “what?”

“Can I ask you something?” Fenrys asked, oblivious to the growing anger emanating for Lorcan at another instance of being interrupted from his time with Elide.

“No,” Lorcan grunted and was about to get up when Fenrys grabbed his arm and dove into a conversation that Lorcan entirely blocked out.

He wasn’t sure how long he sat there desperately wanting to meet Elide but being trapped in a mindless one-sided conversation, his only reprieve being the small liquor bottles he’d charged to Fenrys’ ticket.

Fenrys suddenly stopped talking as he glanced over Lorcan’s shoulder. Turning, Lorcan winced as he met the livid eyes of Elide

“Elide,” Fenrys commented, “wow, you’ve been in the bathroom for like a half-hour.”

Elide’s eyes narrowed further and Lorcan tried to look apologetic as she bit out, “I. Know.”

***

When Elide, Lorcan, and Fenrys arrived back at their building Lysandra and Aedion were waiting for them in Elide’s apartment.

After the hellos and hugs, Lysandra stepped back and narrowed her at Fenrys.

“You ate meat!” She accused.

Then she turned towards Lorcan and Elide who watched her with wide eyes, “You had sex!”

They sputtered, “No we didn’t!”

Lysandra scoffed at Lorcan, “I know you didn’t, you have the personality of a shoe, who would want to hook up with you?” She gestured at Elide, “I was talking about Elide.”

Elide forced a laugh, “What? Lysandra, I did not have sex.” Elide brushed off the claim as Aedion gave her a funny look.

Lysandra shook her head and sighed, “This pregnancy is throwing me all off.”

Lysandra and Aedion said their goodbyes, and then Fenrys walked across the hall to his own apartment, leaving Lorcan and Elide standing in Elide’s kitchen.

“Well, we certainly are alone.” Elide said, unnecessarily.

Lorcan nodded, “Yeah, uh, good thing we have that, ‘Not in New York’ rule.”

She hummed noncommittally.

“Listen, I uh,” Elide tried to put her scrambling thoughts into words, “I just—that night meant a lot to me, I guess I’m just trying to say thanks.”

Lorcan cleared his throat and stepped closer to her, “Oh, yeah, you know,” She looked up as he stumbled over his words, “that night meant a lot to me too.”

They stared at each other for another long moment before Lorcan nodded at the door and said, “All right, I gotta go unpack.”

“Okay.”

“Bye.”

“Bye.” She watched him leave and waited to hear the door across the hall open, but the click of the door handle never came.

Lorcan stalked back in and slammed her door behind him.

“I’m still on London time, does that count?” He asked wildly

Elide was already flinging herself at him, “That counts!”

Then she wrapped her legs around his hips as he lifted her and carried her into her bedroom.

***

Aelin was making another lap around the airport, hoping to hear some updates about her flight. In her mad dash to show up at Rowan and Lyria’s wedding, she had bought the first ticket she could to London and hadn’t worried about her return flight. She didn’t think it would be such a struggle to fly home.

“Aelin!” A deep, familiar voice called out.

She stopped and turned to see Rowan sitting alone in an almost deserted waiting area.

“Rowan, hi.”

He stood up and met her halfway, his face scrunched in confusion “What are you, uh what are you doing here?”

“Oh, well,” she adjusted her bag on her shoulder and flashed him a smile, “I’ve been on standby for a flight home for hours. I’ve become very familiar with the airline staff.”

He nodded

“So,” she glanced around, “no sign of Lyria, huh?

“Not yet.” Rowan shook his head.

“What time are you supposed to leave?”

As if on cue, the speakers crackled as an announcement called, “This is the last call for Flight 1066 to Athens. The last call.”

Rowan made a face and answered her, “Pretty soon I guess.”

Despite her feelings about Lyria, the very last thing Aelin wanted was to see Rowan so dejected and heartbroken.

“I’m sorry,” she said as gently as she could.

He sighed and sat back down as Aelin took the seat across from him

“I just, I don’t understand,” He scrubbed his face with his hands, “I mean, how can she do this? You know, am I… am I like a complete idiot for thinking that she’d actually show up?”

“No, you’re not an idiot, Rowan. You’re a guy very much in love.” Aelin sighed.

He snorted, “Same difference”

She cracked a smile and he matched it.

The voice over the speaker rang out again, “All ticketed passengers for Flight 1066 to Athens should now be on board.”

“I get it!” Rowan snapped at the invisible voice, then sighed again, “Well, that’s that.”

Aelin couldn’t watch this anymore. “No, you know what, I think you should go.”

“What?”

His face snapped up and Aelin looked into his earnest, pine green eyes as she told him, “Yeah,” she nodded, “I think you should go, by yourself, get some distance, clear your head, I think it’d be really good.”

He looked skeptical but Aelin thought she saw an ounce of relief. “I don’t—I don’t know.”

He looked at the gate attendant still at the check-in desk and Aelin knew he wanted to.

“Come on Rowan, I think it would be really good for you,” She urged, hoping the trip would make him feel better and he would come back seeming more like himself—like the Rowan she knew.

He was nodding, trying to convince himself, “Yeah,” he eventually said, “I can do that.”

“Yeah!” Aelin agreed, trying to hype him up.

Rowan grabbed his bag and looked back at her, still frustrated, “I can’t even believe her,” he chanced another glance around the terminal as if Lyria would materialize in front of him, “No, you know what, I am, I’m going to go.”

“Good!”

“Yeah, why not?”

“Right!”

“Right.” Rowan took another step before turning to face her once more, “Thanks, Aelin.”

She smiled at him, glad that he was getting some of his happiness back that had abandoned him the previous day.

“Okay,” she said again and opened her arms to give him a hug he enthusiastically returned. “I’ll see you back at home if I ever get a flight out of here,” she huffed and began to turn away.

“Well...no, never mind.” Rowan shook his head, dismissing whatever he was about to say.

Aelin tilted her head, she scrunched her brows in confusion as he gave her a sheepish grin, “What?”

Rowan looked between her and the gate attendant, “Why don’t you come?” at her shocked silence he plowed on, “I—I have two tickets,” he waved them in front of him, still wearing that boyish smile she loved so much, “Why not?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” she trailed off. Aelin wanted nothing more than to say yes, but Rowan was offering her the second ticket on his honeymoon trip for gods’ sake. But as she kept looking into his hopeful face, she felt her resolve and guilt crumbling. “Really?”

“Yeah. Yeah, it’ll be great,” he insisted, handing her one of the tickets. “You can lay on the beach and read, and I can cry over my failed marriage,” he chuckled, “See? Already making jokes.” the smile he forced was more of a grimace.

“Rowan, I—”

“No, really,” Rowan stepped up to her and placed his hands on her shoulders. She tried not to lose focus as she felt his warmth sink into her. “Please, Aelin,” he said, looking more vulnerable than she’d seen him all weekend. “Gods, I could use a friend right now, and you’re one of the best.”

“Wow,” Aelin took a breath. She could accept. She could go to Greece with Rowan for a week and support him and enjoy herself. “Okay. Uh, yeah, yes! Yes, I can do that.”

“Really?” his smile widened and so did hers.

“Really.”

They walked to the gate attendant and handed her their tickets. After a disapproving glare for their timing, she opened the door and waved them through.

Rowan readjusted his bag and paused, “Oh, wait, I forgot my jacket. You go on, I’ll be right there.”

Aelin flashed him a happy smile and nodded, walking onto the plane.

Rowan quickly jogged back where he’d been sitting, picked up his jacket, straightened, and met the eyes of his runaway bride.

“Lyria.” he breathed.

She looked between him and the gate looking distraught and Rowan realized that she must have seen Aelin go onto the plane. His eyes flared, understanding that Lyria must have thought everything with he and Aelin had been intentional. And it wasn’t. It wasn’t...right?

She scoffed and made to turn away, but he stammered, “Oh no, no, no, no! No!, Lyria!” He frantically looked between Lyria’s retreating figure and the gate that Aelin had walked through to the plane where she was waiting for him.

Cursing every god he knew, he chased through the airport after his wife.

***

Aelin enjoyed first class. She didn’t fly it often, but when she really wanted to treat herself, she would. This flight was no different than she remembered. She settled into the seat, keeping the window spot open for Rowan, and ordered them both a drink from the flight attendant. She figured they could both use one after this insane weekend.

Glancing out the window, Aelin noticed that the airport appeared to be moving.

She jolted in her seat. The airport wasn’t moving. She was. The plane was.

The plane was leaving, and Rowan wasn’t on it.

“Oh, my Gods,” Aelin muttered in disbelief as she sat on a plane departing for what should’ve been Rowan and Lyria’s honeymoon. “Oh, my Gods.”

*****

Taglist:

@acourtofsnakes @allthebooksunderthemoon @astra-ad-mare @becarefuloflove @bisexual-genderfluid-loki @booklover41802 @charlizeed @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks @danibutterr @doubt-less @emily-gsh @enormousbooklover @foughtconquered @fromthelibraryofemilyj @hakunamatatazz @i-have-but-one-brain-cell @in-love-with-caramel-macchiato @jorjy-jo @lemonade-coolattas @mariamuses @mayhemories @midsizewitch @miserablesmusings @morganofthewildfire @nehemikkele @rowaelinismyotp @rowansfirebringer @sayosdreams @sheharahu @sleeping-and-books @stardelia @story-scribbler @superspiritfestival @surielandiareendgame @swankii-art-teacher @tomtenadia @westofmoon @whimsicallyreading @ladygabrielli1997 @moodymelanist @realbookloverproblems @gracie-rosee @julemmaes @yesdreamblog @the-regal-warrior @rowanaelinn @thestoriesyoutell @autumnbabylon @sunflowermoonshinewrites @wrathscannoli @backtobl4ck

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chaoticpuff17 · 4 years ago

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Something Wicked

part 10

masterlist

Jin had become a little less volatile in the following days, but he had become almost unbearably smothering when he wasn’t disappearing into his office to take mysterious phone calls. He always seemed to be touching her, kissing her. The man was practically glowing with excitement, and his excitement never boded well for her. She tried at least to enjoy the relative peace while it lasted. He hadn’t tried to initiate anything either. It was a relief for her. There was a lot she could put up with, mostly because she had to, but that was not something she wanted to give to Jin.

She had never like Kim Seokjin. He was not a good man, even before this, but now, she firmly believed that he was the devil. What else could he be? He was the subject of nightmares, the creature that mothers warn their children about. He was the monster her parents had warned her about. She should have gotten away when she’d had the chance. She should have quit all those years ago when she first realized how horrible he was to work with. None of this ever would have happened if she’d taken the job in the first place.

Her father had always taught her to try to find the good in any situation, but she couldn’t find any here. There was no good to be found in Kim Seokjin. In a way she was glad that her father was dead. She would have hated for him to see how far she had fallen. He’d always wanted a good life for her. Maybe if Jin wasn’t psychotic, and they had met in a different life one where Jin had wooed her like a normal man, he could have provided that for her. There was no chance of that now though. Jin had taken everything from her. He’d taken her freedom, her dignity. She had a sneaking suspicion that he had been behind Minseok’s demise. And now, he was going to permanently tie them together.

Jin had presented her with a ring as gaudy as he was, happily slipping it onto her finger gripping her hand a little too tightly for the gesture to be sweet. The large diamond was prominently sat in the middle of a platinum band with two smaller baguette diamonds on either side of the central emerald cut stone. It was a hard piece of jewelry to ignore. Every time she moved it caught the light drawing her eye down to the horrid thing. Jin was so proud of it. He declared it worthy of the future Mrs. Kim, but she detested it. Every time she looked at it, it made her stomach turn. She wanted to chuck it over the balcony and down to the busy streets below, but she refrained too frightened of what Jin would do to her if she did so.

He’d brought in a team of ladies to primp and poke her into the image of Kim Seokjin’s wife, as well as a team to groom poor Jinnie, but not before thoroughly threatening her. Jin couldn’t risk her asking for help. He couldn’t risk his image as Seoul’s golden boy. He was perfect, and his future wife had to be too.

Every time she thought of his dead eyed smile as he’d spoken to her, as he’d threated to kill Jinnie, to hurt her, a shudder went down her spine. It had been a struggle for her to keep quiet when the ladies had been there fixing her hair and doing her nails. Even if she had wanted to speak up, Jin was always there leisurely seated a few feet away giving instructions to the ladies. He wanted her to be perfect, his version of perfect. Her hair was styled to his specifications. Her nails were shaped and painted in a demure neutral color, because the wife of Kim Seokjin was to be a perfectly demure lady, and she hated it. She had never been a very vibrant woman. She’d always been a little softer, a little more neutral, but something about that fact that it was now being dictated to her made her hate it.

She was filled with the urge to take a pair of kitchen scissors and cut off all of her hair. She wanted to paint her nails a violent shade of pink just to spite him, but how could she? He was always there, always hovering over her shoulder. He was so thrilled with the idea of their wedding, and she had never dreaded anything more.

He was almost manic in his excitement. He was constantly bringing her wedding magazines forcing her to choose between preapproved flowers, colors, food. There was nothing that wasn’t already Jin’s choice, not that she really wanted to be involved in wedding planning. She knew what would happen once the wedding took place. She’d be legally tied to Jin in the eyes of the law and the eyes of the public. There would be no escape for her, not that there was much chance now.

She’d learned a lot about Jin during her captivity. She’d always known him to be meticulous, a perfectionist, but there was something about seeing him in all his psychotic glory that stripped her of all hope. He was almost obsessive, no, he was obsessive. Every detail of her captivity was planned just as every detail of their wedding was planned. There was nothing she could do to fight against him, not when he held all the cards.

“Hello, my darling.” Jin greeted her placing a kiss to her forehead. She was getting better at accepting his displays of affection, or she was had been well trained. Any rejection of Jin was met with violence so she kept herself calm. She kept herself gentle and passive just as Jin wanted her.

“How has your day been?” He asked sinking down to sit next to her.

“It’s been fine.” She smiled setting her book aside. She wasn’t allowed to do other things when Jin wanted her attention. Her focus was always to be on him. He was a narcissist at heart. Everything had to be about Jin. “Do you have anything you want me to look over?” She asked. Jin wanted her active and excited in the wedding planning, so she pasted on a smile and pretended as best she could if only to keep him calm.

“No, darling.” He cooed smiling gently as he played with her hair. “Not right now, we have almost everything decided. It won’t be long now.”

A thought she dreaded. Marriage to Jin was the last thing she wanted, but it wasn’t as though he was giving her a choice.

“What’s that?” She asked looking at the file resting on his other side. If he’d brought it instead of taking it directly to the office, it had to have something to do with her.

He smiled picking up the file and opening it up. “This? This is your medical file, darling.”

She froze dread filling her. What could he possibly want with her medical records? How had he even gotten them? She wasn’t sure who to be more upset with, Jin or her doctor, but the likelihood of her ever seeing the doctor of her choice again was slim. It would probably be Jin’s choice from now on. He was an overbearing bastard.

“We’ll have to get your IUD removed.” He mused flipping through the pages. “We’ll be needing an heir, and that pesky little thing will get in the way.” He looked back at her gently brushing a stray strand of hair out of her face. “But we can take care of that after the wedding. I want to enjoy you before we have a son.” He leaned in nipping at her ear.

“A baby?” She whimpered doing her best not to flinch away from him.

“Of course, darling.” He chuckled trailing light kisses down her neck. “Mother and father are anxious for grandchildren as well. Seokjung won’t be much help to them in that regard.”

She stiffened even more at the mention of his brother. It was rare for Jin to bring him up. Not many people even knew the fate of the older Kim brother, but she had been working with Seokjin for years. She’d even met the man a few times, quite the feat considering how the family kept him away from the eyes of the public. The poor man wasn’t even mentioned with the rest of the family, not since the accident.

Kim Seokjung was set to inherit the company until there was a skiing accident when the brothers were in high school. Seokjung had ended up paralyzed from the waist down and had become effectively useless in the eyes of his upper crust family. He received the best of care, but his life was essentially over. Seokjin had risen as the only son and heir of the Kim family.

Of the two, Seokjung was definitely her favorite. He was a pleasant man, far more pleasant than the rest of his family and surprisingly optimistic considering the life he’s been thrust into. Assistants had no place in private family matters, but Jin had insisted on bringing her to the family home on more than one occasion, and that was where she had met Seokjung.

She first encountered him in the kitchen in the family home. To say that both of them had been surprised would have been an understatement. She had only been working for Seokjin for a year, and she had never heard mention of a brother, but they’d quickly settled into conversation seated at the little breakfast nook in the vast kitchen with a cup of tea that Seokjung had made for them himself. There wasn’t much for him to keep himself occupied now that he was effectively under house arrest by his own family, but he was excellent at making tea. He was also an amateur chef. She loved talking to him. The few times she had met him were the highlight of her time working with Jin.

One thing that never made sense to her was the accident. Both Seokjin and Seokjung were very athletic back in the day. Seokjin was still athletic. One of the things that the Kim family excelled at was winter sports. Seokjin preferred to snow board, but from what she had heard, Seokjung was quite the accomplished skier. They’d been to that resort hundreds of times. He’d skied those hills all his life. The conditions hadn’t even been bad on that fateful day, but something had gone wrong, so wrong that Seokjung no longer had the use of his legs. Now knowing Jin more, she now had to wonder if he had had something to do with the accident. She wouldn’t put it past him, not now.

“Wouldn’t that be nice, darling?” Jin cooed bringing her back to the present as he nuzzled into her neck. “A little son.”

“I don’t… I’m not…” He breath hitched as Jin nipped at her neck more harshly.

“You’re not what, darling?”

“I’m not ready for children.” She whispered trembling as she waited for Jin’s reaction.

Jin pulled away staring her down before a grin stretched across his features. “Not to worry, darling. We can wait a little before we start our family. I want to enjoy you first.” He purred nipping her neck again.

“No, Jin.” She whispered pushing him away gently. “I don’t want children.”

She had always been on the fence about kids. It was the biggest fight that she and Minseok had ever had. He’d wanted a houseful of them. She wasn’t even sure she wanted them. She’d never had siblings, and she’d cared for two ailing parents in her life. Kids had never really crossed her mind, but she knew she definitely didn’t want them with Jin. She doubted she had much choice on that either, but she had to try.

Jin frowned before pasting on an indulgent smile. “Two I think. Two boys. Doesn’t that sound nice, darling?”

“I don’t…”

Jin cut her off his smile becoming more strained, his eyes darkening. “You don’t know what you want, darling. That’s why you have me.” He pet her hair his tone taking on a condescending air.

“Jin…”

“My poor stupid darling.” He cooed pulling her up onto his lap, wrapping his arms around her tightly. “How did you ever survive without me?” She grit her teeth restraining herself from snipping at him. She’d gain nothing from upsetting him even more than she already had. “Don’t worry, darling. By this time next week, we’ll be married, and you’ll never have to worry again. Daddy will take care of you.”

Yes, that was exactly what she was afraid of.

part 11

#bts #bts fic #yandere bts #bts jin #yandere seokjin #ceo seokjin #bts seokjin #seokjin x reader #jin #jin x reader #yandere jin #ceo jin #ceo #ceo au #dark romance #something wicked #fanfic #bts fanfic

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kuwurapikaaa · 4 years ago

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Candlelight || Chrollo x Reader

Title: Candlelight Spider Leg!Reader || Plays during York New arc One-shot || Genre: Smut || Angst Pairing: Chrollo x Reader Summary: In the middle of the night, (Y/N) found herself entangled in the web of the spider. Warning: Sexual content, Age Gap Word Count: 3,660 Note: This story is cross-published in AO3 and Tumblr. Yes, my next fanfic would be another Kite fanfic after that, it would be a Jotaro fanfic. I like supplying content for underrated HxH characters. I am currently on a blast right now and I can’t just stop at this point. I am also getting into a new fandom so it is a more of an excuse to my followers who only saw me write hxh fanfics lol

In one hasty night, just like any other night. (Name) was carrying a candle and a stack of antique books to the head of the phantom troupe's room. Putting his books back to his bedroom became somewhat a routine for her. - Today seems like just like any other night.

She just secretly reads his books. Steals five of them, but always, puts them back on their shelves as if nothing happened. As she opened the door, put the books in their respective places, to her surprise, Chrollo was wide awake. The candle's warm light illuminating his handsome face as he held a book with his left hand. His legs were crossed as he sat on a wooden chair. He's probably unable to sleep tonight.

He looks so hot and bothered. - She thought to herself as she bit her lip. She never had many wanton thoughts. It was rare for her to have those. She has been thinking about him since she read that one book that had a character that looked like him. She had been crushing on him since she joined the spiders.

At first, it was simply admiration, but right now, it’s a crush. - Chrollo made her feel like a schoolgirl hiding her feelings in front of a much older and hot guy. It’s like a junior falling in love with a senior trope, yet again.

The vision is something to admire. He looked ethereal at his current stance. His hair wasn't combed back like it did on most days. His ebony hair was a bit messy right now. He also doesn't wear his earrings, which is a surprise. Yet, said view also gave the young woman an eerie feeling about it.

Number nine bit her lip. Trying to make as little noise as possible. She is trying to avoid Chrollo seeing her so late at night. Just as unlucky as she is, the books fell. It was heavy and her arms were tired carrying it from her room downstairs to his room 2 floors higher.

A loud thud was heard as the heavy leather-bound books fell on the cement floor of their base. Chrollo's attention was right at her. He closed his book. Fate is sealed. Fuck. He heard me. - She thought to herself, biting her lip harder. She tried to leave the candle on the floor and picked the book up.

(Name) is an enhancer. A simple person and a horrible liar. At this point, she doesn't know what to say to her leader. She was speechless. As if words were stolen from her mouth. "(Name), you're still awake." He was shocked to see that anyone was still awake at this time of the night.

She looked into her watch. "I know it's already one in the morning. I just came to return your books." She smiled at him. She tried to make an impression on him. Since she is just a new member, it would be stepping over boundaries if she tries to have her usual boisterous speech.

"So you're the one sneaking and reading my books?" He asked as he went near her, she froze. Her body tensing each step he took. She nodded and swallowed thickly. Although she sees nothing is wrong with that, she could be wrong.

"I'm not angry at you, (Name)." He told her with his charming voice. He was looking at her in the eye. She avoids his gaze like it's the plague. But there's no escaping now. He's now against her as her body pressed to the bookshelf. The two lit candles in the opposing sides of the room and the pale moonlight was the only thing that was giving light to the scene.

His arms were around her. She was quite flustered. She never got in scenes like this, ever. It was rather her first time being in something like this. She doesn't know what to do as she is wrapped around the devil's fingers. The man was devising. It's hard to distinguish his genuine affection for his fake one.

Yet here she is, throwing herself into this. She knows what she's going to get, and it's something less than tasteful.

"Don't be ashamed, beautiful." Once he said that (Name)'s blush only deepened. Nobody has gone this close to her. Just by his voice, she can feel something underneath her panties. It was an unfamiliar feeling for her.

"Since you're here, I want you to take care of something." He continued talking. Then he went near her lips and sealed a kiss. His lips were surprisingly soft. She was shocked by his advancements. No one has ever done that to her. Her eyes were wide open. She wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders as the kiss deepened. She didn't even bother to fight it.

Since day one, she always had feelings about him. He made her feel things she otherwise couldn't feel. Yet, it's a secret she kept for herself. Falling in love with the spider head is the best way to ruin the troupe. "I don't think this is right." She said immediately after the kiss broke.

Still as charming. - Chrollo breathed, his gaze still locked to hers. He can just look at her like this the whole night if something isn't bothering him. Her gaze drifted south and what she saw shocked her. Chrollo's junk seemed bigger. - Not that she's looking at it all the time. She'd be bashful and hesitant if ever caught doing so.

"(Name)... Don't be so shy." He said to her in such a hypnotic voice. His playful hands removed the velcro on the nape of her neck. Her backless shirt was freed. Her silicone bra remained. She ended up being very flustered by his actions. - Speechless in fact.

Chrollo removed the silicone bra right away, he threw them in the ground. Her halter bodysuit remained as it was in her underwear. Her breasts now were out in the open. She was frozen, shivering. With the mixture of the cold air and the shock she is feeling, she couldn't move at all. He tucked her hair on her ears as he went down to her. His beautiful purple eyes were looking at her as his hands were pressed on either of her sides. They were near her bosom. Slowly brushing against them.

It is almost tickling her as it goes higher up into her sensitive nipples. His thumb encircling the area. She was shivering at every touch. With the cold air and his warm touch, it was truly a recipe for disaster. She was having goosebumps.

"Danchou... Please be careful. This is my first time." When (Name) said that his eyes were wide open. He was shocked to hear that a woman like her is currently experiencing her first time. - Secretly, no, openly, Chrollo likes it that his partner is a virgin. It's like he's twistedly religious. He would like to teach and somehow shape them.

"I will." He said with a smirk on his face. He unbuckled his belt and removed his black pants along with his underwear. Her eyes went wide as she saw his huge length right in front of her. It was long, and a bit thick. Probably seven inches long. It was standing and hard.

"Knees down." He ordered (Name). She kneeled to the cold cement. Then, he switched their positions. He was now the one against the hard wooden bookshelf. She had no idea what he was going to do to her. Then, he aligned his cock on her small mouth. She took it eagerly.

Her head was going back and forth as she tried her best to cover his length. It was long and could choke her. She was barely halfway into his shaft. Then, Chrollo all of a sudden, he pulled your head to his cock. Tears were dripping down her face as her eyes widely opened. She gripped her hands on his hips as she continued sucking him.

He was amused by how she was bobbing her head back and forth. Her cherry-colored lips surrounding his long length. He can hear sounds of her choking as she was struggling to get into the end of his shaft. She tried her best to cover the whole area.

His cock was reaching the back of her throat. Her right hand reached for his balls. Stroking it at the same time. - It was unfamiliar territory. He continued growling and gripping onto her hair. It was obvious that she was a virgin. She lacked many facets. In other words, she doesn't have any technique. "Good for someone who did that for the first time." He smirked at the young girl in front of him.

He pulled her off from his cock. Drool connecting her mouth and his length. She was quite flustered, avoiding Chrollo in the eye. Then, as he withdrew, he held her hand and went to the chair he used to sit in. "Come here." He said in such a soothing voice.

As soon as it was said, she followed suit. She was flustered as he could see her naked body properly in this area. Minutes seemed like hours. The only indicator of time was the candles placed everywhere in the room. The white candles slowly melted.

He held her legs as he started kissing her lips again. He stroked her back. She felt a bit ticklish as he started going to her neck. Doing butterfly kisses before finally sucking in the sensitive spot. She gasped and mouth left agape, he marked the area near her flower tattoo. It's sure to bruise up. Just as he was doing that, he was also groping on her sizable bosom.

Then, he pulled her leather pants down along with the rest of her stripe bodysuit. Her slit is now on display. Looking at it, she was rather well-groomed. Her pubic hair was well-trimmed.

She removed her stilettos along with her pants as she threw all those items in the same place as her silicone bra. She was flustered as she was already naked. Her spider tattoo in her left leg was showing. She was number nine. "Keep your shoes." He whispered to her. She wore her shoes again as he continued caressing her legs.

Then, he switched her position. She was now facing the bookshelves again, he continued touching her naked body. Her soft, milky skin. He admired every inch of her.

He tucked her hair on her ear as he gracefully watched over the mark he created. Then, he puts his fingers on his mouth as he begins to insert them on her slick folds. She gasped once more as her wet muscle encapsulated his unfamiliar finger. “This is going to hurt a bit.” He said to her, assuring all the uncomfortable and painful feelings is all normal.

The fingers were unfamiliar, they were colder than the rest of her body. She was shivering from it. As it slowly moved up and down in her slit, an elicit moan escaped her lips. He was rather amused with her. She was more flustered than ever as she spoke, "Danchou… I… I like you." She said shyly. This moment got her feeling like a young schoolgirl confessing her feelings to her crush.

He smiled at her as he heard those words escape from her lips. Her mind right now is all mushed-up. She doesn't even know what she is saying nor thinking at this point. All she knows is that her danchou is making her feel so good right now. As soon as she adjusted with the two fingers he inserted, he added a third. Her cheeks are becoming very hot as he continues.

“Danchou… so this is what it feels like?” She asked him. He responded to her with a short nod.

His fingers still slip up and down making her feel so wet for him. Juices dripping on her legs. She was flustered as he continued his actions, she looked at him, her head turning to the left. His thumb was rubbing on her neglected clit. She bit her lip as she tried to lower her voice. He simply smirked at her as she became a sweaty mess.

Then, out of shock, he pulled his fingers off her slick folds. He made her stand up again as he fully discarded his pants with his dress shoes. She had a better view of him like this. He stood up from the chair as he carried (Name) into the table. She sat on the hardwood as her legs were wrapped around his hips. He kissed her once again in the lips. Then, she removed the last piece of clothing from him. - His dress shirt.

As soon as she removed his dress shirt, she saw it. A mirror near the bookshelves reflected. #0. The legends were right. All the gossip she has heard from non-troupe members were correct. She is indeed toying with the spider head himself. - She never saw this moment coming.

She gasped as he aligned his length onto her. “If it hurts, grip me.” He said to her as her blue eyes opened wide. She bit her lips harder as the length entered her. She gripped harder on his back. Her manicured nails marking his back, marking half-moons on his back, where the iconic spider tattoo resides in.

Strangely enough, Chrollo has more tattoos than that. He also had one in his left arm, it was a huge dragon with many religious symbols and flowers around it. He and (Name) have a lot in common. - One of them is their unquenchable thirst for knowledge and their love for tattoos.

His length slid into her. Slowly and carefully. She yelped at the large size of his cock entering her. Unlike what she expected from men, “I’ll be gentle” he promised, kissing her lip as his grip on her waist tightened. Oh, it was expected from someone like him to say that.

Her tightness and warmth surrounding Chrollo’s cock earned a growl from him. (Name) also felt more comfortable moaning now. Her moan was rather quiet as she would like to contain the pleasure she is feeling. When his length fully entered, which took a while, instead of starting, he was stuck. Waiting for her to calm down, familiarize herself with his cock. Her tight grip on his back is getting slowly undone as her core adjusted to his length.

"It feels… uncomfortable…" She said to him, biting her lip. Still registering the unfamiliar feeling of her danchou's cock inside of her From her voice and everything, no matter how much of a slut she dresses, she has innocence. The fragile innocence that he is taking away from her.

“Is it okay now, (Name)?” He asked the woman against him. (Name) was speechless. She simply nodded to tell him that he was allowed to move. Her wet muscle has adjusted to his cock. Then, as he got the signal, he started moving his hips back and forth against her, slowly.

It elicited a much louder moan from the young woman. Her eyes went up, slowly fluttering up and down as the waves of pleasure were entering her system. Her hands were still on his back, still gripping it. "Danchou, please go faster." She ordered him as he moved in his slow and sensual pace.

He did follow her order. He moved much faster this time. His other hand went in her neglected clit, rubbing it with his thumb as he crashed his lip on her. - (Name) was overwhelmed by his actions. All the string of thoughts and doubts in her head were long gone now.

"(Name)… So tight..." He remarked as he growled. He continued thrusting in and out. Her grip on his back tightened. She can feel her end is coming near. Chrollo finally found her g-spot.

"Right there… ah… Please!" She exclaimed mouth left agape as she whimpered. He continued his thrusts on her. This time, hitting her spot at each one of them. He started growling and groaning much louder too as he continued the way his hips rock against her. - She never knew a cock felt this good.

His thrusts were now at a much faster pace, she mewled as he thrust his hips harder into her. "Ah… Ah… I think I'm going to cum!" She remarked as he thrust much faster into her.

As he knew the young woman in front of him was near her orgasm, he withdrew his length as he kneeled on the cold cement floor. He went near her slit as he was stroking himself while licking her labia as he began eating her out. - This is something Chrollo does not do with his partners. Although he would like to make (Name) an exception.

He stopped stroking himself as he started fingering her roughly. (Name) moaned the loudest as he was mercilessly pushing and pulling his fingers in her pink hole. His mouth moved from her labia to her clitoris. "Fufu-" she said, her swears were choked as he continued licking her clit and fingering her. Tears started running down her face as she continued to moan, louder than ever.

Her vision was covered with white as her orgasm finally came into her. "Ah... Ah…" She was incredibly speechless. Chrollo made her feel so good. She was glad that her danchou was below her, licking and tasting her precious juices.

She covered her face with her hands, all the shame she felt is coming back as she finally goes back to her senses. Cheeks hot and a sweaty body, then there is her danchou who is gladly eating her out. Licking every single drop of her orgasm like he was a starved man.

To her surprise, Chrollo's cock was still hard. - Tonight, it was obvious that her pleasure was the priority. But, how about his? "(Name)…" He said to her as he puts her legs around his shoulders. She kicked her uncomfortable five-inch stilettos to the ground. She had a sigh of relief as her feet could finally rest.

She puts her head on his shoulders as he moves her to the chair. He sat on there as he started thrusting in and out of her again. The young woman was already shaking because of the hypersensitivity brought by her violent orgasm. This time, he had no mercy with her.

She almost yelled when he entered this monstrous pace. She was at Chrollo's mercy as she held tight on him. His hips bucking up and down on slick slit. "Danchou… ah… your cock is… so big…" she cannot even form words at this point.

It's like she is being sent into heaven once again by Chrollo. Her vision is being clouded again as her back arches. He continued thrusting into her pussy until she had a second climax. She gripped harder onto his shoulder as she followed his pace. His groans got louder as he was close to his own. “D-danchou… ah...” She moaned with a sharp cry.

“Fuck!” He groaned as he was reaching his orgasm. (Name) yelped as she held much tighter on his shoulder. Spurts of white got inside of her. Her vision was filled with stars as she looked up in the ceiling. They tried to catch her breath as he withdrew his length from her. His cock went back to its soft state.

Then, she stood up. She was still quite sensitive. Her legs are shaking, cum dripping on her thighs. She sat into the cold and smooth cement. Her hands held her knees as she sobbed quietly.

Chrollo stood up from the chair and got his blanket. He wrapped the crying woman in the warm fabric. “Why are you crying?” He asked her. His voice was very comforting, but it isn’t enough for her to stop sobbing.

“Please, danchou, don’t touch me.” She told him as she carefully removed his hands from her naked shoulder. He saw that his creation was there. A purple-ish red mark was on her shoulder, near her rose tattoo.

“I feel so overwhelmed. I feel used!” She exclaimed as she wrapped the blanket to herself. She bit her lip to stop herself from crying. Luckily, her danchou seems very experienced. He knows what to do when situations like this come around. He was the firsts of many women, he knew that a lot of them would cry during their first time.

“(Name). Please. Calm down.” He said to her with caring eyes. The stars twinkled in Chrollo’s eyes.

(Name) can never handle all the burden she is experiencing. What if her family knows? She knows that her beloved mom would react in horror. She would never have a chance of having a husband. (Name) always wanted a traditional husband. Even if she has her tattoos and dresses provocatively, she wants a husband who will accept and love her.

All that is thrown in the garbage as she can never have those things anymore. She can never have a husband anymore, all because she gave in with the call of the flesh. She gave in to his desires. It’s all my fault! - (Name) yelled in her mind. It was like an empty void, no matter how you scream, nobody can hear anything.

“I…” Before (Name) can even speak, she feels Chrollo’s tight embrace. She gasped as she rubbed his back. She was speechless as the hug is very comforting.

“I love you (Name).” He cooed into her ears as he started touching her hair, calming the young girl. - Danchou is so different from her expectations. She expected someone like him to be crude and hostile. Yet, here he is, with humility and culture. He truly is a gentleman straight out of a romance novel.

“Let’s clean you up.” He said to her as he picked her up, going to the bathroom. She smiled gingerly at him as she held onto him.

Danchou is so sweet.

#chrollo #chrollo lucilfer #chrollo x reader #hunter x hunter #chrollo smut #anime smut #smut #anime #hxh #hxh smut #luna's writings

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thegreatbigfourmain · 4 years ago

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It wasn’t even a month after her 18th birthday when her stepmother gave her away to the youngest prince of the Burgess kingdom. The blonde sat there in front of a mirror while her maid Toothiana, Tooth, brushed and styled her hair beautifully. Her wedding dress was a stunning gown made of satin that Gothel had specially made to show off her daughter as a prize to be won. It had lace sleeves and a sweetheart neckline, putting attention to her developing curves that she was hesitant to even put on. Gothel still forced her to “keep and hold onto the attention” of her future husband.

She knew nothing of her husband to be other than horrible rumors of him being a demon on the battlefield. It’s said that he kills with just his bare hands and had the strength of an entire army to wipe anyone out. Every time he fought, it was as if a snowstorm wiped away men's lives. Those all these stories aren’t what made her dread this arrangement. What scared her was what if he was just as cruel as her mother is? Is her life just meant to be spent with abuse after abuse? Were those happy days when her father was still alive truly gone from her grasp?

She didn’t notice the tear running down her cheek until Tooth brushing it away broke her from her sad trance.

“Don’t cry Rapunzel. I’m sure he’s not bad as those ridiculous stories make him out to be. And if he is, then I wouldn’t hesitate to bring him down myself!” Tooth said, trying to comfort the poor child.

Rapunzel giggled softly at her attempt, leaning her cheek into her hand before Tooth resumed doing her hair. She was the closest thing she’s ever had to a mother than her stepmother. Her true mother died giving birth to her and Tooth has been her mother’s maid when she was alive. It took all of her father’s strength to ask Gothel for Tooth to stay once they married a few years later. Gothel wanted nothing to do with her mother, turning the once warm palace into a terrifying regime.

“And done. Oh, honey, don’t you just look beautiful…” Tooth whispered off the last part, placing her hand over her heart while trying to hold back tears. If they were tears of happiness or sadness, Rapunzel didn’t know.

The blonde looked at her reflection, admiring Tooth’s amazing work. She made braids at the top of her head that ran down the sides of her face before tying them behind her neck. There were jewels placed throughout her golden locks that sparkled when the light hit them. She wore the necklace of her kingdom Corona; a sun pendant given by her birth mother before she had passed. Since then, she’s never taken it off. It was the only thing she had of her mother. Tooth did another excellent job on her makeup. It was minimal, though accentuated the blonde’s natural beauty tenfold.

“It’s beautiful Tooth… Thank you,” Rapunzel replied as Tooth went to grab the bouquet meant for the ceremony starting soon.

“Of course my child. Now, I’ll meet you downstairs when you’re ready to come,” The woman said. She placed her hands on the girl’s shoulders to look right into her emerald eyes.

“Now Rapunzel. Even though you’re being married to some prince, I don’t ever, ever want you to forget who you are. A beautiful, strong, confident woman. No matter what Gothel or anyone says. You hear me?”

Rapunzel smiled as tears formed in her eyes. She closed the distance between them to pull Tooth into a tight hug. The woman chuckled at her gesture, wiping some tears behind Rapunzel’s back before gently pulling away.

“Don’t linger for too long or she’ll come to hunt you down,” she joked before leaving the blonde to herself. As she was leaving, Tooth’s hopeful smile turned into a frown upon closing the door.

Now alone, Rapunzel made the realization that she was to be wed without her consent and out of an agreement, not of love like her parents. Hearing stories of their romance from her father made her fantasize about how she too would meet the love of her life. Unfortunately, it was never meant to be.

Rapunzel took the long descent of the last ounce of freedom she had before her marriage with one last sigh. She’s never even met her future husband nor did he ever set foot in her kingdom. Everything was arranged through King Burgess and Queen Gothel. How he looked, his dreams, his goals, or anything about him was a mystery that she didn’t know she would enjoy or fear figuring out.

Too lost in thought while descending the stairs, Rapunzel skipped the last step, causing her to trip. Before she had time to grab onto the railing to keep her from falling, a strong arm wrapped around her waist. She let out a slight squeal as her brain was telling her body it was falling. It then made the connection of someone nearby pressed against her body.

“Oh, I’m so sorry! I must have-“ she stopped at the sight of her savior.

He was mesmerizing.

He had the brightest blue eyes she’s ever seen. They were breathtakingly intense that she felt seep into her soul. If she didn't know any better, she swears she saw his irises be in the shape of a snowflake. What surprised her next was his hair. It was a frosty white, though he seemed to be no more than a few years older than her. His facial features were sharp and his jawline chiseled. She knew the number of freckles he had spread across his cheeks mirrored that of the stars in the night sky.

The desire to touch his face grew the longer she gazed into his eyes.

“Are you alright Your Highness?” The beautiful stranger spoke, seemingly concerned.

“Ye-yes… Thank you,” she managed to utter. The man let go of her waist before bowing his head and leaving. It must be one of the guests here for the wedding. Many have come that she’s never met before in her life. The feeling of his arm around her lingered on after he left her gaze. Just who was he?

“Now wasn’t he something?” Tooth’s voice rang the air. The blonde jumped at her sudden appearance, too entranced by the man to notice her surroundings. She gently brushed the woman’s side.

“Oh, hush. I’m to be wed in 10 minutes remember?”

“Anything can happen in 10 minutes my child,” she joked. It only causes Rapunzel to blush a bright pink as she shoved a laughing Tooth towards the ballroom where the ceremony is to be held.

Tooth helped her with the veil that reached the floor and following behind her, completing the beautiful ensemble. Rapunzel took one last look at Tooth, anxiousness clear on her face by the way her brows knitted upward and the slight bite of her bottom lip.

Tooth smiled reassuringly at her. “Don’t look at me like that. My offer of running away together still stands…”

Though she knew that joke was only half kidding. Rapunzel gave Tooth one last quick hug before the doors opened before her. As a princess, she was trained to ignore the room and focus on a singular point when entering a room. It’s to establish dominance and power Gothel reminds her, which is exactly what she did.

The closer she reached the front, the tighter she gripped the flower arrangement she held. She could see the outline of the man she was to marry from underneath the veil. Though not obscuring her view completely, it did make it difficult to see. His back was turned to her in the tradition of all loveless weddings.

Was it the lights causing her groom’s hair to be light or was it her mind playing tricks on her?

It wasn’t until she was a few feet away did she notice that the man’s hair was completely white.

Her eyes widened and she let out the slightest of gasps, causing her to stop ahead of the music. Could it be the beautiful stranger from before? There were not many young people going around with a head full of white locks that she knew of.

“What are you doing?!” Whispered an angry voice. Rapunzel glanced to Gothel who pointed to the spot she was to stand beside her groom.

The blonde quickly removed any further thoughts from her mind to continue her path until she was standing right beside her groom. Her heart was beating out of her chest as she tried catching a glimpse from the side to see if her suspensions were correct as the priest before them rambled on. Her groom simply stood there in his regal clothing, black with blue designs meant to represent snow crystal decorated his attire.

Darn it! She was too focused on his face to notice anything he wore when he caught her.

“And do you Rapunzel Corona, take Jackson Overland Frost of the Burgess kingdom to be your husband, for as long as you both shall live?”

“What? Oh! Yes. Yes, I do,” she corrected, bringing the flowers close to her face in a fruitless attempt to hide her embarrassment. She could hear a soft chuckle beside her, no doubt coming from her now-husband. Husband. That’s right. She’s married now, no point trying to pinpoint the stranger as her husband now. What a pathetic rush of excitement she felt before handing over her freedom to someone else.

“I now pronounce these two kingdoms as one. The kingdom of Burgess welcomes Princess Rapunzel of Corona. May God shines brightly on these two,” finished the priest.

Cheers and claps surrounding Rapunzel’s train of thought. It was almost too overwhelming she felt her knees go weak. She nearly fell over until a slight nudge caused her to look down next to her.

“You can hold onto me if you’d like,” said her husband in the midst of all the applause, offering his arm. Rapunzel blushed as she linked her arm with his, blushing even more at how toned it was.

“Thank you,” She replied in a shy voice before finally glancing up to see his face now that they’ve agreed to this union. Her body froze at what she saw.

It was the stranger with the blue eyes.

#inspired by #married to the devil’s son #by #Jasmine Josef #find her on IG @ author-jazzmine #it’s a great plot #drabble #jackunzel #I’ll def continue this dont you worry #along with other drabbles #rough draft I just spent like an hour and a half on so it’s not my best #married to a demon #arranged marriage fic

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torendheavenandearth · 4 years ago

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1.7

“At the end of thy road, one must remember the golden rule: all things in moderation, and find the balance in all things. There, in minute perfection, you will find God, and you will find him wanting.” -- From the Discourse of the Tambay Swordsman and the Alcoholic Witch.

▼

Makabintang nears the crossroads. “Hey kid,” says Makabintang, peering behind him. He sees Angela is out, sleeping sideways against the kalesa seat. That’s bound to cause some neck pain.

Makabintang moves the kalesa to the right edge of the road and stops the horses, which have been running for almost two hours. There’s a small clearing here, a little embrace from the trees. Here the soft patter of the stream punctures the silence. The sound of the wind slipping through the bamboo causes a song of sadness to ring out from the forest.

Makabintang climbs up and flicks Angela’s face. Angela snorts as she’s pulled back into the waking world. “Ah punyeta. What--?”

“We’re taking a short stop here. You can rest up here. Get down and stretch.” Makabintang then grabs a glass canteen from behind her and walks off to the stream.

Angela watches Makabintang disappear into the greenery. She tries to move, but is greeted by an orchestra of pain. Her neck is sore, her feet sear with red hot spiky agony, her hands feel raw, and her knees have been scraped. Wincing, she gingerly makes her way down from the kalesa and winces as she hits the ground. Her feet are raw: she’s not wearing clogs or any kind of shoes. She makes her way over to the center of the small clearing where there’s a small campfire used by those before. The charcoal has been doused, but it hasn’t been cleared or replaced. They’re going to have to clean off the charcoal and get some new firewood.

A couple of men riding along on horses happen by the clearing. Angela notices that they’re taking the right path at the crossroads. One of the men, wearing a large salakot and barong tagalog, stares longingly at Angela, and Angela looks away, trying her best to act as if she can’t see them. She briefly wonders if she should just go back to her own kalesa and hide.

The two men stop their horses. One of them--the one wearing a navy blue uniform, has an arquebus hanging from behind his back, and a sabre hanging from his waist--gestures with his head, and the salakot-wearing man nods and slides down from his saddle.

The approaching man is wearing a large cloak that wraps around him, but underneath that he’s wearing large balooning pants, leather shoes, and a fancy striped barong tagalog. His hair looks groomed, and so is his moustache.

Angela squints at them. She sits at one of the logs-turned-benches.

“Hello, binibini,” says the man, as he nears her. He takes off his salakot. “What is a precious young girl like you doing out here, in the middle of the path?”

Angela breathes out, slightly irritated. She didn’t think she’d get these kinds of people in another world still. “Didn’t your mother ever tell you not to talk with strangers?”

“Then let’s change the situation then,” says the man, smiling. “My name is Don Jose Iago de Lacandola. And you are?”

Angela cringes. “I’m 17. Go away.”

“Age is but a number,” says Don Jose Iago de Lacandola. Angela cringes. He examines Angela thoroughly. “It is better if you are not to stay here, in the middle of nowhere. You seem like you have gone through a rough patch. I can take you to my hacienda, which is just over Mount San Roque. I can care for you like a king would care for his princess.”

Angela blinks. She thinks that this can be a good chance to get some good life out of this miserable predicament she’s found herself in. “Are you some kind of… noble?”

Don Jose nods. “I am a principales, part of the principalia of the Kingdom of Perlesensya. Perhaps that will make my offer more enticing. I will care for you all your life.”

Angela squints at Don Jose again. “Why?”

Don Jose manages a small smile. A shy smile. He looks up at the sky and says, “Well, it is not everyday that a Don such as myself would be graced by God the fortune of seeing an exceedingly beautiful maiden sitting out here in the forests. I must protect all beautiful ladies that I come across but…” he looks down on Angela again. “...never have I seen a woman so beautiful as you.”

“But…” Angela reaches up to her horns.

“Oh, do not worry about that. We can surely hire a surgeon and a healer to surgically remove it from you. We’ve done it before.”

“You’ve… surgically removed horns from people? Why?”

“No horns are allowed in the Hacienda proper, you see,” says Don Jose. “And it’s commonly seen as unnoble within Biringan, the City of Cities. It's just for politeness and so that you can fit in better. Admittedly, that is the only blemish I see in your perfection.”

Angela cringes again. The prospect of having the horns surgically removed is something she’s keenly interested in, but a mote of doubt lingers within her heart.

“There’s a catch to this, isn’t there?”

Don Jose shrugs. “Of course, it would be in my best interest to wed you. Perhaps we can live together in my hacienda, and you can be the loving wife that welcomes me back from military expeditions and other such things! You will have a grand life.”

Angela pouts and thinks. Her forehead creases. She doesn’t quite know what to answer. Not yet, anyway.

“Come on, girl. Do you not want to be treated like a principales?”

“I do,” Angela says, looking up. “But… I don’t think I can.”

“Oh, lovely maiden, moon of my life, why?”

Angela shrugs. “There’s… something I have to do first. There are people that are counting on me, I think. I’m not sure. But I don’t think I can do whatever I have to do if I went with you. Sorry.” And also going off gallivanting with a creepy older man is out of the question, fuckin’ creep.

Don Jose stops and stares at Angela for a bit. Eventually he sighs and shrugs. He produces a piece of rectangular paper from his pocket and gives it to her. “This is a paper signed by me. If you ever come to the hacienda--Hacienda Lacandola it is called--then show this to the gatekeeper. They shall let you in, and perhaps we can talk at length and help you come to a conclusion.”

Angela snorts. “Sure.” She takes the card.

“God bless you,” says Don Jose, before walking back to the horse and then shrugging. His shoulders have fallen. The principales gets on his horse and the two of them begin making their way up the mountain. The man that looks like a soldier looks over his shoulder and stares at her as they disappear into a curve.

“Weirdos,” says Angela. She thinks of throwing the paper away, but then decides against it. Perhaps it can help in the future. She looks around her and finds that the baro’t saya she’s wearing has no pockets in them. Exasperated, Angela sighs. Of course they don’t.

She gets up and walks over to the kalesa and slips the piece of paper into the sheath of the bolo that Makabintang gave her. She stares at her own reflection through the slightly dulled blade of the bolo. There’s still some dirt on her face, from when she fell. Her eyes are red. Is she losing sleep? Her glasses are miraculously still intact. When will they get broken? What will she do if they do? She’s practically blind without them. How will she be able to survive?

The bolo could be a good start, she thinks. Maybe get some training in them and be like a samurai or one of those old Filipino action movies or old Filipino komiks by Francisco Coching. She can manage it, she thinks. She’s always had before.

“I’ll get Makabintang to train me,” she mutters. What is seemingly apparent to Angela is that in this universe, fighting is to be expected at one point or another. At least, for a person like her. So it only makes sense for her to get up and grab some kind of combat training. If not, she’s going to get turned to bloody mush on the ground, and she doesn’t have any plans of dying just yet.

I still need to go home.

She brings the bolo over to the log she sat on and pondered. She wonders how life is, back at home, back in horrible Metro Manila, with the shitty transportation system and the even shittier government. That distant wish for home hit her like a truck. Sure, it was hell, but at least that place didn’t have, like, huge demons and angels and explosions and supernatural kung fu or whatever. If this is heaven, then she’d rather be cozy back home in hell.

She sighs. She wonders how Kristina is doing. One of her best friends. She was supposed to go and have a study date with her the next day, eating and drinking at their favorite cafe along Aurora Avenue. A hidden gem. But no. She was abducted by human-trafficking angels instead. Angela wonders if she will ever get back home. She decides that if she ever does go back home, she will.

In fact, she decides that she’ll do all of this, survive and get strong and hop around with Ang Nilapastangan and Makabintang, just to find a way to get back home. Her mother is waiting. Her little brother is waiting. They are all waiting for her to get back home.

“Oyoy, what was that commotion a while back?” Makabintang’s voice floats out of the trees. Angela looks up and sees him walking out, with three canteens full of water, which he carries with a makeshift flat plane of wood that he found out within the forest. He goes over to the horses and gives them something to drink.

“Some principales,” Angela replies. “Can I ask you a favor, Makabintang?”

“A principales? Did he say his name?”

“Don Jose something something Lacandola.”

Makabintang pauses. He turns to stare at Angela and his eyes go wide. “Lacandola? Are you absolutely sure?”

“Oh what, is he like, super important or something? Is that it?”

“Yes! Yes he is! Lacandola is one of the royal houses of the Kaharian!”

“What?”

“There’s not a lot of them, really. Only nine left: Sulayman, Lacandola, Ache, Colambu, Tupas, Paiburong, Sikatuna, Cabungsuan, and Namwaran.” Strangely enough, Angela recognizes some of those names. Names that she’s seen her friends have, or mentioned in old historical texts. Another weird note that imprints itself onto her mind.

“And this is important to me… how?” asks Angela.

“You shoulda taken the offer and took me with you!” Says Makabintang. “We’ll be rich and living large!”

“I doubt they’d allow a duwende to live in with them, though,” says Angela. “Don Jose already said that he’d have my horns surgically removed.”

“Yeesh,” says Makabintang, and then waves his hand dismissively “But whatever, you’re probably right. Come on, let’s get back on the road.”

Angela opens her mouth to ask something more, but a low guttural bellow resonates from somewhere else, freezing her words in her throat. She and Makabintang stare at each other, eyes completely wide, bodies frozen.

And then the kimera leaps out from within the shadows between the trees.

There’s a moment of absolute fear blossoming from the well at the bottom of Angela’s soul. She leaps to her feet, brings out her bolo, and faces down the kimera even as it leaps through the air and pins her to the ground.

“Makabintang! Help!” She screams, and the fear in her voice is like the shattering of glass. Makabintang rises and brandishes his own bolo. He sinks into the earth and then erupts from a mound to the left of the kimera, sending him cannonballing straight into the kimera’s side, bolo first. The bolo sinks, the kimera screams.

It flails about, sending Makabintang flying from it. This time, it doesn’t underestimate Makabintang. It leaps toward him as he slams against a tree, grabs him mid-bounce, and then slams him against the tree once again.

And then with a single, savage movement, rips Makabintang’s head from his body with its kimera dog mouth.

“Makabintang!”

▼

Ang Nilapastangan is faster than horses.

Upon her bellowing strides of smoke and flame--a neat little trick she’d picked up when traveling with a tigbalan--she crosses the length traveled by the kalesa in half the time. Despite the dewy morning, the road is not damp enough to let wheel tracks be embedded upon it, but that’s okay. Ang Nilapastangan told Makabintang where to go. She knows where they’re headed.

She just hopes she’s not too late. She just hopes she catches up before they go past the crossroads. But Makabintang knows that. Makabintang is a wise duwende, and he’d know to stop by at the crossroads to wait for her.

That is, assuming nothing worse follows after them. The kimera… she can’t brush the thought of the kimera from her mind. It wasn’t there when she looked around. Last time she remembered, halimaw don’t just disappear when they die. It’s popular to use the materials harvested from hunting them for equipment and items.

So where did it go?

Ang Nilapastangan bellows-pumping stride eventually reaches its peak, and she reaches the crossroads at almost a quarter of the time a horse-drawn carriage like the kalesa would. When she gets there, however, the kimera’s maw rips Makabintang’s head from his body.

Ang Nilapastangan’s fury is silent, and the world has told her that she must be silent. She blurs forward. Now right beside the kimera, and thrusts her hand--which is in a knife-hand position--straight through the kimera’s chest. She then inserts her other hand through that same hole, and then rips the kimera in two, vertically.

Chunks of meat and blood scatter across the clearing. Angela scrambles away from the blood and meat, bolo still in hand. Her eyes are wide, her breathing rapid. She feels like she’s going to puke, but she can’t look away from the fantastic gore caused by Ang Nilapastangan.

Ang Nilapastangan hurls both parts of the kimera into two different parts of the forest. Throwing it so strongly that it sends waves of air rushing out. She throws it seemingly so that the two parts of the kimera are as far from each other as possible.

She looks down upon the headless corpse of Makabintang, ripped and savaged. The blood of beings like Makabintang don’t seem to be red like human blood. Their blood is one that is yellow-ish, like the sap of trees, nearing gold.

Ang Nilapastangan scowls. Angela stares at Ang Nilapastangan.

▼

Ang Nilapastangan digs up a grave for what’s left of Makabintang’s body with her bare hands. She is silent, and when Angela looks over at her, her face is blank. Not in that blank kind of way when someone’s loved one dies and you don’t know how to react. Her face is exactly like her face the first time she saw her. As if the death of Makabintang, the only person that she seems to speak with, doesn’t faze her.

Ang Nilapastangan makes an effort to make the grave like a mound, like that of his house. And then, at the top of the mound, she places a single sampaguita flower that she finds nearby.

With that done, she gets on both knees and then bows. Her hands are clasped together, as if in prayer. Angela wonders if she should follow in what she’s doing. Even just to pay some kind of respect to the weird duwende that helped her. But, she feels too awkward, and decides not to.

Eventually, Ang Nilapastangan finishes the procession. She doesn’t do any kind of sign of the cross or anything. She simply lifts her head and then rises to her feet. She turns around and says: “I’m filthy.”

Angela blinks. “Um. Yeah. You’re covered in guts and blood.”

“We can’t afford to bathe yet,” she says, with an almost… complaining tone? Angela can’t help but tilt her head in slight confusion.

Angela also notices that as she’s talking, her burning crimson feet and hands are slowly subsiding. Her black and red eyes are dissipating. She closes her eyes and she breathes out. When she opens her eyes again, her eyes are normal. They’re no longer black and red, but a beautiful white and ash gray.. She, more or less, has the visage of a human.

Save, of course, for the horns.

“Come on. Barangay San Justo is a bit more travel.” She walks over to the kalesa and unlatches the horses from the wagon. She then reaches into the wagon and brings out a pair of saddles. Fraying at the edges, but working more or less. “Ah, the horse carer remembered my request. Good.”

Angela walks up to Ang Nilapastangan. “We’re not going to ride the kalesa?”

Ang Nilapastangan shakes her head. “We’re going to ride the horse instead. Do you know how to ride one?”

▼

Angela and Ang Nilapastangan ride down the path. They’ve gone down the westward road. “The east road leads up to a mountain trail that leads to Barangay Sampotsi. There you will find Hacienda Lacandola,” Ang Nilapastangan said. Angela told Ang Nilapastangan about the encounter she’s had with Don Jose, but Ang Nilapastangan doesn’t reply or respond to it.

Now, upon the trail, there is a slight awkwardness. The only time Ang Nilapastangan has talked to her is to teach her the ropes of riding a horse. She’s ridden one before when she went to Tagaytay and Baguio, but riding one on her own without the guide of some kind of caretaker is a new experience. Surprisingly, she got the hang of it rather quickly, and soon the two of them are on a canter. Ang Nilapastangan took the horse with the black coat, while Angela chose to ride upon one with a chestnut brown coat.

The path is mostly quiet, save for the soft sound of the wind wafting across the trees. The rustlign of branches, the whistle of small zephyrs. The temperature is not too bad. Humid, of course, but the sun is not shining directly at them so the heat is bareable. Angela realizes how much she prefers the temperate, humid climate of the more tropical countries than the more extreme degrees of other countries. She’s glad that they have that climate here, and much cooler than in Metro Manila too, since this place is presumably not choked by pollution and microwaved by climate change.

Their canter is brisk, but not to slow. Its a perfect pace for Angela to ponder upon the things she sees as she travels across the path. The broken twigs on the ground, the kabalyero trees that seem to be more popular here, sending the red petals of their flowers cascading down to the soil. The random snake coiling about a trunk, or flying lizard leaping from one treetop to another. A squirrel scurrying down a tree. Numerous birds flying above.

A soft wind sends fallen dead leaves flurrying into a small tornado, instilling into them once again, a semblance of life.

However it's not the kind of abounding, almost choking, multitude of animals Angela thought she would encounter. It’s strangely serene. The animals here seem to be alone: Angela can’t help but wonder why she only sees one squirrel, and one flying lizard, and one flock of birds. At this point, she’s expecting to be assaulted by an onslaught of mosquitoes and flies, but none come. Maybe one, and it isn’t even a mosquito.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

Angela blinks. She looks up at Ang Nilapastangan. The path ahead is long. There’s a patch of the road further down that is shadowed by a canopy of tree branches. “Yeah.”

“It used to be even better,” says Ang Nilapastangan.

Angela waits for Ang Nilapastangan to explain further, but she never does.

After a bit of cantering, Angela speaks, “I’m sorry about Makabintang.”

“Don’t be,” she replies. “You had nothing to do with it. And Makabintang would’ve been honored to go out that way.”

“Wasn’t he your friend?”

“He was. He was the only friend I had and the only one that didn’t freak out when I said that I was the winner of the Hagdanan and that I came to that village to hide away from Biringan. He was a good friend. But he was going to die, I think, one way or another. It always happens.” The wistful tone is almost cliche to Angela.

“You were hiding?”

Ang Nilapastangan nods. “It’s the only way for them not to kill me, or use me.”

“Use you?”

Angela doesn’t get a response to that either.

With a sigh, Angela continues with, “If only I knew how to fight.”

“Don’t worry about the ‘ifs’,” says Ang Nilapastangan. “It’s done now. Move on. That’s what’s important. That’s how you break chains.”

Another silence. Angela decides not to engage anymore with Ang Nilapastangan. Maybe she’s still grieving, and just doesn’t want to show it to Angela so that she doesn’t break her tough-girl demeanor? Either way, Angela loses the will to converse. She looks around her again, and nothign much happens. Not a lot of animals come out. For a world that is the center of the multiverse, she thinks that it should have a lot more colorful animals. Not just a single squirrel and a snake. And some birds.

They ride for a few more hours, passing through numerous canopied sections of the road: the parts where the branches of the trees embrace overhead, as if to provide shelter and shade. The sun doesn’t shine down directly at you within the canopy, and the wind is chilly. As they canter along, her mind begins trailing, looking for more distractions. She wishes she can have her phone right now, numb her mind against her Twitter feed or chat with some friends. But then she remembers that those friends are universes away.

Eventually, to pick up the pace, Ang Nilapastangan tells Angela to gallop and follow her. Angela nods, prodding the horse forward and then balancing herself on her knees. Ang Nilapastangan taught her this just a few moments ago. She remembers what she’s taught: use her knees to steady herself, don’t pull on the reins, lean forward. And she does.

The horse goes forward, and it runs quick and true. It seems as though it’s doing its best to accommodate for Angela’s inexperience. Even though her gallop isn’t as fast as Ang Nilapastangan’s, it's enough that Ang Nilapastangan is always in view.

▼

After a few more hours of riding--which was painful for Angela, having to look around all the time--Angela finds that the road they’re sat upon crests up to the top of a hill. When they reach it, Ang Nilapastangan stops the horse, and so does Angela.

There, from the hilltop, they see Barangay San Justo. A quaint little town with the same wooden houses mixed with stone houses, and with a church in the middle. It is surrounded, of course, by dense trees, some of them breaching the gaps of the town and growing between houses and roads. There is a small wall on both the north and south sides of the barangay, made of earth and wood.

The hilltop road bends down into the southern exit.

The barangay, strangely enough for the middle of the day, is quiet.

“We will look for the albularyo here,” says Ang Nilapastangan. “And then afterwards, I will help you.”

Angela blinks, looking up at Ang Nilapastangan. “Help me?”

“Get stronger and win the Hagdanan. It’s the only way, if you wish to be free.”

Next Arc.

Return to the Table of Contents.

#karanduun #writing #novel #webnovel #filipino #myth #mythology #folklore #arc 1

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forgetthetimetravel · 5 years ago

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Wedding

Mythiru AU. Honestly my fav piece of this week so far. Read more to learn more~

@felixespinal

There was a chapel. There was white everywhere. There were curtains and red flowers and a lovely aisle to walk down, surrounded by lords and ladies befitting such a prestigious wedding. Ahiru’s heart fluttered as she glanced at the crowd, the crown awaiting her, down at her lovely dress, as she felt her impossible-to-walk-in shoes. She’d pleaded for something more comfortable, but her groom promised to sweep her off her feet afterwards so she wouldn’t have to worry about it. She exhaled nervously.

“Oh don’t worry so much, dear!” a comforting voice beside her assured. “You’re a darling princess, and will make an even more lovely queen. He’s lucky to have found you.”

“Aahaaha… yeah…” Ahiru responded awkwardly, smoothing her dress in gloved hands, then swallowed. “I just— I don’t know— I mean he’s so nice, and this is all so fast…”

The older woman patted her hand. “It feels like that love, but when love is involved, everything is in the right time.”

Ahiru exhaled again and smiled more earnestly at the woman beside her. “You’re right. Thank you, for everything.” She hugged the woman tightly.

“... Do you have a necklace on underneath the dress, dear?” the woman asked after pulling back.

Ahiru flushed and her hand flew to her chest. “Oh! Y-yes, I’m— I’m sorry. It’s just— it’s a necklace that’s very special to me, but it clashes a little with the dress, and I don’t want to ruin all the hard work everyone’s done! But I promised I would never take it off, and it’s small so it isn’t super obvious unless, well, you know. And—”

The woman patted her arm. “It’s alright dear. It’s important to bring something from your old life with you into your new as well.”

Ahiru continued blushing but smiled in relief. “I— I guess so. Thank you.”

“Oh, the music’s starting, you’d better get walking.”

Ahiru only groaned internally, a little bit, but the excitement and anticipation helped overcome her worries as she started down the aisle.

Small steps. Eyes on her. Heart beating. Glancing at the gorgeous windows, shrouded in fabric. Her groom, husband-to-be, waiting for her at the end. She just had to get there…

Her necklace warmed its place on her chest, hidden under the layers of fabric. Soon the tiara would grace her head, if only for the ceremony. Then her glove would be removed and a ring placed on it. And then her love would whisk her away from everything, and it would be the two of them. Finally.

She made it to the altar. She smiled with relief and joy at her groom, who was smiling brightly at her. He took her hand and the ceremony proceeded.

Words were said, promises shared, the tiara with its lovely pinkish-red stone on top placed on her head. The gold and red complimented her own red hair. Her groom took her glove and slipped the ring on.

“If anyone has reason these two should not be wed, speak now or—”

“I don’t think that this is a very good idea,” a theatrical voice echoed from the rafters. “Especially that tiara. Tacky choice, honestly.”

Startled, everyone looked around for the voice.

“I can help, though. Take everything off your hands.”

A young man came into the light by one of the windows, hand around one of the curtains. The light silhouetted him, and before much could be seen or done he started swinging down into the chapel, right at the altar!

Ahiru’s groom stepped in front of her, shielding and blocking the way. “Ahiru! I’ll prot—” The man dropped and rolled, then shoved into her groom with a shoulder, knocking the wind out of him and also knocking him to the ground.

The young man stood up and grinned, wearing a black half mask. He gave a bow to Ahiru. “M’lady.”

Ahiru tensed, but suddenly a pair of arms grabbed her from behind and swept off her feet, setting the world spinning. She screamed, of course, and almost lost the tiara in the jolt. She grabbed it onto her head and squeezed her eyes shut. The curtain swingers tossed her around, she had no idea which was was up let alone which side of the church she was near, and eventually landed on something solid with someone holding her tightly. A bag went over her head and despite kicking and flailing, she was hauled away.

* * * *

Ahiru sat in a derelict little corner of a shabby frame of a house. She was still in the wedding dress, but her shoes were off. The young man with white hair and a dark outfit came over to her, his mask gone but grin remaining. “Ahiru.”

He breathed her name like it gave him life just to say it.

She pouted at him. “You really pushed it, you know? I had the ring on, we’d said the vows, and were almost officially officiated!”

“I’m sorry, my love,” Prince Siegfried bent on a knee and kissed her hand gently, carefully. “I had to make a grand entrance.”

She loved the feel of his lips on her skin and flushed, but she had honestly been worried and refused to give in so easily. “I… I had on horrible shoes as well. I had them on for so long I still can’t walk very well.”

He immediately moved his hands to her feet and started massaging them.

Ahiru jumped in her chair with a small sound, not expecting that. “S-Siegfried!” Her face burned.

“Mytho, actually, remember?” He smiled at her over her skirt, still rubbing her foot. “I’m Mytho as long as we’re on the run, stealing all these jewel pieces.”

Ahiru’s heart broke a little every time he reminded her. The Raven had decimated Siegfried’s kingdom and taken its prized jewel, the Heart of the King, and broken it into so many pieces, scattering it all over the continent. All that remained was the small piece of her own betrothal necklace. She never took it off.

“We’ll get them back,” Ahiru assured him, and took off the tiara. Its red jewel was another piece of the Heart. She offered it to him. “We are.”

He smiled at her softly. “And then we’ll have a proper wedding,” he murmured.

Ahiru flushed again. “We could just get married now…” she muttered.

“With your stolen ring and tiara?” he lightly teased.

“And your betrothal necklace,” she insisted, putting the tiara on him and patting where the stone lay under her dress.

He moved one hand from her foot to her hand and held it softly while he looked at her. “You deserve better, Ahiru,” he said, so earnestly she almost believed it.

She placed her free hand on his cheek. “I don’t care; you and me are all we need for a wedding, silly.”

“... Me Siegfried? Or me Mytho?” he breathed, a trace of humor trying to assert itself, but real questioning underlying it all.

Oh her heart. “You,” she just said again.

He smiled and squeezed her hand.

“Eventually, my little duck.”

Inspired by: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5MJd0RTOW1Y

#mythiru week 2019 #day 2 #wedding #mythiru #au #I had fun with this #still haven't really had time to edit #but it was fun~#song inspiration #louder than words #les friction

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kasumi-ffxiv · 7 years ago

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Detailed Profile: Kasumi Gakunin

Appearance:

Gender: Female

Race: Bi-racial. Raen/unknown

Height: 5 fulms, 7 ilms

Eye Color: Purple; sometimes described as amethyst by others.

Hair Color: Creamy Blonde

The Facts:

Name Day: Unknown.

Occupation: Merchant, Trader and Black Marketeer. Part time event planner.

Allegiance: Serpent’s Path, Magpie Cell of the Doman Resistance, otherwise mostly herself unless you’ve impressed her or she has some sort of emotional attachment.

Sexual identification: Heterosexual

Romantic identification: Heteroromantic

Alignment: Lawful Neutral.

Criminal History: None. Too clever to get caught.

Relationship Status: In a relationship. Mostly monogamous.

Favorites:

Favorite food: Fish

Favorite drink: Peach sake

Favorite artist: Etani'a

Favorite scents: Cherry Blossoms, Yanxian wildflowers

Favorite person: Kasumi doesn't really have one person she likes above others. There's some she respects, one she loves but even then there's things she dislikes about him.

Tagged by: @vexredain

Tagging: @etani-a @thevermiliongaelicatte @thescarredaegis @boku-no-miko and like everyone on my friends list or who look at this

More below the cut.

Extras:

Ten facts:

⚫ Kasumi has recently developed a love for darker shades of red and purple and seems to be wearing them in place of her usual pastel pink.

⚫ Kasumi has seven older brothers. She currently has no knowledge of their whereabouts but-

- The first and the third brother died after being conscripted.

- The second brother managed to escape being conscripted by becoming the apprentice to a very wealthy merchant who slipped some coins into the right Garlean officers hands.

- The fourth and fifth are actually pirates/privateers for the Confederacy.

- The sixth was conscripted and hasn’t been seen or heard of since he was.

- The seventh was deemed too unstable of mind to be conscripted. Instead he stayed in the home village becoming a Shinshoku (priest) and continuing on their mother’s work to honour the local fox goddess.

⚫ While there are many tales of Raen who live under the sea or occupy islands off the coast of Othard, Kasumi is not a creature of water at all. She can’t swim and long sea journeys make her horribly sick as she found out on her journey to Kugane from Eorzea.

⚫ Kasumi’s second Danna was a wealthy half Doman/Half Sharlayan merchant who escaped with Kasumi and his wife during the razing. She lived with him as his concubine for four moons in Sharlayan, helping him with his merchant business til his wife poisoned him and tried to sell Kasumi as a slave until she was bought by an Eorzean Miqo’te who offered to let her free. She stayed with him with several moons, training in thaumaturgy and keeping him company (he was gay) until he had to flee due bounty hunter’s tracking him down. He sent her onto Eorzea to Juno hoping she’d find a new life there.

⚫ Kasumi gets her eye colour from her father’s side of the family who are known for their vivid purple eyes ranging from violet to lavender in shade.

⚫ At times, Kasumi acts far less intelligent then she is and doesn’t see herself as intelligent due to the fact that being “too intelligent” was a trait looked down upon in Geisha with the exception of her social intelligence. She was always told a man doesn’t want to be entertained by a woman smarter then them. She’s slowly moving past this but still doesn’t have a huge amount of confidence in herself when it comes to her intellect, especially when it comes to academia and magic.

⚫ Kasumi has no scars. As a child in the okiya, any girls that got scars were sold to other less pleasant places and she was told she was worthless if she got any scars, a mentality that she has kept to this day. If she ever gets a scar on her face there’s a high likelihood she’ll have some sort of mental break down.

Five Things:

They like:

Fashion

Shopping

Dancing

Tea

The Performing Arts

They dislike:

Red Meat

Hot Weather

Ul’dah

Travelling via the sea

Having nothing to do

Good traits:

Organised

Good social skills (generally).

Neat

Group Orientated.

Polite

Bad traits:

Stubborn

Neurotic

Spiteful

Hard to get close to

Manipulative

Good habits: ✔ - Neat and orderly when it comes to her personal space and office. ✔ - Has a daily beauty routine. ✔ - Donates to charity. ✔ - Bathes twice a day ✔ - Bows a tonne

Bad Habits: ✘ - Trichotillomania -When stressed is prone to over grooming the scales on her tail, picking and removing them. ✘ - Can hold a grudge pretty much till the end of days. ✘ - Prone to panicking when things don’t go to plan. ✘ - Can be extremely bitchy ✘ - Shops too much and has too many clothes although she’d claim you can never have too many clothes.

Personalities they gravitate toward: ► - Byronic Heros ► - Extremely feminine types ► - Ambitious and driven people ► - Cultured ► - Natural leaders

Personality types they avoid: ◄ - Those with “Victim Complexes”

◄ - Overly aggressive types

◄ - Those who act dim or child-like.

◄ - Openly arrogant types

◄ - The overly flirtatious or sexual.

Fears:

Being scarred

Returning home and having no family left

Being powerless

Being kept against her will again.

Losing the people she loves/cares about.

#balmung #character profile #Kasumi Gakunin

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wellmeaningshutin · 8 years ago

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Short Story #2: Radiation.

Written: 12/16/2016

The after effects of the bomb were nothing like they expected it to be. They expected nuclear waste and fallout, for the area to be highly radioactive, business as usual, but they didn’t know the area they hit was actually a storage facility for high power nuclear waste, they didn’t know how bad the exposure would’ve been. Afterwords everywhere within 200 miles had to be quarantined, anything still living had to have the radiation cleaned off of it before they were moved out, half that were cleaned just fell apart in the process, fell into spongy piles of skin, liquefied, bone, burnt hair, meaty lumps, surprising the clean up crew who tried to figure out how they were even able to function before they fell apart.

The crew brought in to clean radiation had never really done it before, they were pretty unsure about what they were doing but that didn’t keep them from working as hard as they possibly could. They were cleaners from all over the country they belonged to, maids, sanitation workers, janitors, hell even people who made a living cleaning up dead bodies and other gory scenes. Government agents, spooks, came to their businesses and loaded them all onto vans with sacks over their heads, then they were lead onto helicopters with new bags, then another van and another bag, a process which went on for quite some time. At first the workers thought they were going to get killed, then they questioned if the people transporting them even worked for the government, right when they get to see something other than the inside of a black sack they could have to start new lives as sex workers, all ways trying to up-sell hand jobs to blow jobs, bj’s to sex, sex to anal, always memorizing specials, a life they never wanted to live and were not ready for, and, honestly, under qualified for, but it was just another cleaning job. A lot of them were stir crazy from the week long transport, when they arrived to the site, some ungodly concrete building out in the middle of, well they weren’t really sure where, the only defining factor that they could tell, since they couldn’t leave the facility and there was a strong lack of windows, was that it was humid. They’d often fantasize about where they were, and would mostly have different locations in mind based on their innermost desires, you could tell a lot from a person by the city they thought they were in.

One cleaner, an older woman who ran a blood n’ guts operation, believed she was in Hollywood and would always try to look as beautiful as she could in the hopes that she’d one day get noticed and get whisked a way to fame, beautiful people, lime light, wealth, everything she didn’t have. She was usually easy to spot in the group because she was lucky enough to have a makeup kit on her when the spooks came, they didn’t bother to confiscate it, so she was the only one dolled up in the group, constantly overdoing it due to a lack of really any mirrors, she had to look into a puddle that formed from an acidic leak in the ceiling, and also as a symbol of status, she thought herself above all of the other women. This grooming often went to waste because they had to wear hazard suits that covered everything except for their eyes, which could be seen behind a plastic screen, and she had a large focus on contouring, which she knew how to do but didn’t understand the purpose of, so it never had the effect she was hoping for, and her response, during the rare moments that she’d see it, was to contour even harder. Her eyes were fine so they only really got a touch up, there was more going on with her face to attract interest. People often, in a mock respect that she, in her arrogance, mistook for genuine, called her “Mistress” to her face, and arrogant bitch behind her back, but worse names did form among the women.

Mistress lost a lot of cleaning partners, and often the government agents who ran the facility, often clean and always holding a clipboard, rarely speaking except to give orders, only vacantly nodding when the cleaners tried to speak to them, had to keep assigning new partners because she would tank the moral of anyone that worked with her. Once, when she was explaining to her partner at the time, a pleasant older man who used to work at a laundromat and believed they were in Florida and would be able to live their lives in a perpetual vacation after the work was done, about how respect is the most important thing in the world and anyone who doesn’t respect her is just entitled, or lazy, something like that, the man had trouble figuring out the point of the rant, which was just confused but angry, but he was a nice person so he held his tongue, just tried to focus on the work ahead of him, keep his head down. However, when the rant turned into her raging about how people need to respect their elders and she started yelling about how younger men should give older women sex whenever they want because they need to be grateful, the radiation victim they were cleaning, who was covered in scabs and looked like they were every age at the same time, threw a punch at her and she was knocked out cold against the concrete. The victim them, due to the corrosion of their brain, tried to eat the mistress but some spooks just came in and shot the creature.

They eventually became tired of having to work around the mistress, having to always assign her new cleaning partners, schedule shifts so she wouldn’t get in fights with anybody, or even have to deal with her horrible attitude in general, so they just figured, “Lets just off her and move on.” Before that could happen the mistress had cleaning duty, and her last partner, a younger girl who was just washing her parents car before the spook van came and got her, her parents becoming convinced that their child was stolen by predators, constantly organizing searches with hundreds of people combing the woods to try to find her, and in the end finding 16 bodies of missing people but none belonging to the one they lost. When the missing girl was paired up with the mistress she was at first angry, she’d heard stories about how awful the woman was to work with, and one night, in her assigned sleeping area that she shared with several other younger girls, the mistress came stomping in and stole a blanket from a sleeping girl, claiming that she needed it more. Afterwords the anger faded and the girl became resined to her task, she really only had to work one shift, people rarely lasted more than that, so she started to see it as part of her duty, but if she was going to work with the rotten person it was going to be on her terms, so when she saw the clown faced crone complaining to one of the spooks, saying that she’s important because she used to date some business man, which was probably some used car dealer, and that made her extremely important and that meant she needed to be treated with more fucking respect, the spook just stared at the woman with dead eyes, the girl took the opportunity to go into the storage closet where the mistress had to sleep, since nobody else would room with her, grabbed her makeup kit, and flushed it all down a toilet. Honestly she was surprised nobody did that before.

The next day the mistress was dead quiet, sometimes it even seemed like she was holding back tears, and she just sat in her room, not budging, waiting for her shift to start. When she began work with the missing girl, scrubbing down some large man whose stomach ended up bursting open, spilling out coarse intestines onto the floor, she didn’t even say a word. The girl tried to start conversation with the older woman, just to show a sense of victory to herself, but the woman barely could let out a word. Even when a pregnant woman they were cleaning started giving birth, to what would end up being a bat-like stillborn, she hardly made a sound. This went on for two weeks, they ended up just cleaning in silence, the spooks gave up on the idea to kill her because of how passive she became, the girl stayed as her partner because it was easy and quiet. Everything was running smoothly and peaceful.

Then, one day, the mistress was unable to keep feeling naked and alone without her make up, a feeling that had been building and building, a feeling of her insecurities compared to the other, younger women, the realization of her faded age and wasted life, mostly spent sleeping with a used car salesman who had dentures, a had a passion for salsa dancing but two left feet, and mixed in was also an overall sense of defeat. It had been proven that she was unliked, not respected, and that somebody, she could never tell who, hated her and was out to get her. So she got an idea.

The missing girl had started to feel bad to the mistress, she could hear the older woman cry sometimes at night, and even once she went to check on her, but ended up only silently watching as the woman stared into her reflection and quietly insulted herself for being a old and disgusting. The girl tried to talk with the mistress, find out who she really was inside, try to make, or fake, an actual connection so hopefully the woman wouldn’t feel so alone anymore, but any attempt would only be met with vacant nodding as a response, and after twenty minutes of this the girl just sank back into routine silence. At the end of that work day the girl noticed the woman remove a glove from her suit, thinking she was unseen, and grabbed some blue gunk that had washed off of a victim and was too thick to go through the drain on the floor, she lifted this and carried it back into her suit. The girl wasn’t sure if she actually saw this or not, it was quick and discrete, so she didn’t say anything, and she wasn’t really sure what the procedure would be, if the gunk was dangerous, she really didn’t know anything about the rules of the facility.

The next morning the smell of burnt hair lingered throughout the facility, the cleaners were confused but found other bits of conversation to distract themselves, gossip and drama that comes with cohabitation, and most kind of stopped noticing after a while and just went about their day. Then, before the cleaning shifts were about to start, the door to the mistress’ room opened with a thud and the smell of death poured out. A figure walked out, back straight, perfect posture, with some dark blue substance crusted all over its face and heat emanating off of it, causing the face to become some blurry blue mystery. The cleaners who weren’t retching on the sent, or helping those where were heaving, didn’t know how to respond to the mistress, they just kind of stood there in horror and confusion, and even though there was the sound of vast amounts of digested foods splashing to the floor there was an unmistakable, and ever present, silence that filled the room, almost overpowering the smell of the retching. The mistress observed the room, tilted up what used to be her nose, before it melted away, and said “Well, I guess-” before the spooks filled her with holes and had to shut down the facility.

#Well Meaning Shut In #Free Write #Short Story #writers on tumblr #Early Mishaps #I hate this one

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