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dycefic · 2 years ago

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The Hearthstone God

[The sequel to the God of Prophecy, and the Serpent God of Protection]

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Fire is out of fashion, in this new age.

Some of my kind have found new homes, new names, in factories or forges, in the hearts of wildfires or crystals or volcanoes.

Most of us are simply forgotten.

I was a fire god, once. A god of gathering, a god of communion, a god of song and story. But there are no hearthstones now. No fires around which families gather to eat and talk and tell stories.

I am lucky. I am tied to a great flat stone near a lake. A lake that has survived all the wild exuberance of men, when they learned to change the world around them. Once, this was a place where travellers stopped to rest. At first they travelled on their feet, or on half-wild horses. Then there were carts, and a road. Much later, cars drove down the road. The road was paved.

But some things do not change. People need clean water to drink, and the spring here is good. They need to rest, when they are weary. And even now, when they come to camp in nylon tents, to fish in the lake, or to hunt the ducks, or drive camper-vans to the flat place, their ancient instincts wake, and they turn to fire once more. They light new fires atop my stone, so flat and safe, from which no log will roll to set the woods afire.

Not so many come now. Camping is less popular these days. But some still come. Some still light their fires, and settle around my stone, and talk, or listen to music, or tell stories. So I survive, just barely, on the edges of belief.

I feel it, when things begin to change. Something is happening. Something is drawing old gods back. Not the great ones, risen beyond mortal understanding, but the oldest gods, the small gods, those who rose when humankind were still learning what they were.

Far to the west of me, a god even more ancient than I wakes, and begins to hunt again. I remember the stories that were once told of that old serpent, and tell them over to myself in the long fireless nights.

A god of prophecy, not of this land, settles south and west, and I remember tales of ancient ravens, their wisdom and their guile and their sharp, sharp eyes. There was a raven clan once, who passed this way in the days of skin garments and stone tools, but I have forgotten their name. I only remember the symbol they wore, the black bird with its spread wings, marked in charcoal or charring on wooden talismans or leather garments.

I wait, to see who will awaken next.

To my great surprise, it is me.

The people who come this time aren’t like the campers. They come at night, a ragged family group with few blood ties between them, with a single tent and few possessions carried on devices I haven’t seen before. Bicycles, they’re called, slung over with bags the way ponies used to be. They come at night, and hide when cars pass on the road.

They light a fire on my stone, with wood scavenged from the forest, and huddle around its warmth. They don’t speak much, not at first, but they say enough. They have no home, I learn. They are travellers of a kind I have not known before, who are allowed to stop nowhere, but have no goal but a place to rest. They are thin, and worn, and so tired. So very tired.

They need a hearth.

I am only a weak shadow of a god, now, who once recorded the songs and stories of a thousand generations in my ancient stone, but I am still a god of fire. Their fire burns slow, their little fuel lasting well. The food they heat over it sustains them better. The water of that spring, my spring, puts a little life back in them. This stone has lain in this place since great monsters walked this world, since before humans spoke words to one another, and I came into being with the first fire that burned on it. I am old, old, and though weak, I am not powerless.

They stay.

I cannot speak to them. I am old, and weak, and they do not believe. But slowly, with the power of the fires they build every night, with the tiny offerings of scraps of food spilled into the flames, with their growing confidence in the safety of this place, I am able to do more. I give them dreams and they find the cave not far away, where they can hide. They dream of fish, and begin to try to catch some. A woman remembers that some of the local plants are safe to eat, when I slowly wake a long-forgotten memory of a camping trip from her childhood.

And then a child, a strange, quiet child who rarely speaks, a child without mother or father, in the care of an older brother who is exhausted to the very edge of death but cannot give up while she needs him… that child begins to hear.

She sits on my stone, sometimes for hours, not moving or speaking. It worries the others, but at least she is quiet, at least she is no trouble, and they are beginning to associate their hearth with safety. So they let her sit.

She is *listening*. She is listening to the sound of the water, to the sounds of the forest, to the wind blowing. And because she is listening, where no-one else has listened for so long, I sing to her. I sing to her the songs of thousands of years. From the wordless music of the earliest people, who sang what was in their hearts without words, to the songs I have learned from the fishermen with their radios and bluetooth speakers.

I do not know if she hears me, for some time. But then, one night, while they sit around their fire and eat food the oldest have almost certainly stolen, she sings one of my songs. “In a cavern… on a canyon… excavating for a mine…” she sings in a small voice. The others are startled, confused, for she has not spoken aloud since some bad thing they do not name happened, but one of the older ones knows the song and sings with her.

I have always liked ‘Clementine’. It’s been popular with campers for a long time.

The next day, while she sits on my stone, she sings along to one of the wordless songs the Raven People whose name I no longer remember once sang. It is a lullaby, a soft croon to soothe an infant, passed from mother to mother, and she seems to take pleasure in it.

She can hear me. She can even answer me, as the voice driven away by pain and fear begins to return. And so I grow stronger still. Strong enough to make the raven sign on the stone, one day, in the ashes of the fire of the night before.

She takes a half burned stick, and draws the sign on the stone. Pleased, I show her another sign, a leaping fish. She draws that too.

Soon, I need not shift the ashes. I can show her the pictures in her mind, and she draws them. She draws the wheel of a cart, and into her heart I whisper the stories the travellers in covered wagons once told over my stone. She draws a fish, and I make her laugh silently with the jests of fishermen who boast of fish who escaped them. She draws a horse, and I tell her about the wild horses who once drank at this lake, about the men and women who captured and tamed them and rode them through the forest when it was far greater than it is now. She draws a long-toothed cat, and I show her the great cat that once slept on my stone, and denned in the cave where her new found family sleep.

One night, when all the others are asleep and my fire has burned down to coals, she creeps back to the stone and looks into the coals. “Who are you?” she asks. “Are you real?”

She is afraid that the voice in her mind is the voice of madness, a lie created by a mind that does not work like other minds, that has endured great hardship. I do not want this child to be afraid. To instill fear runs counter to my very nature, save in whoever might threaten those my hearth protects.

I am a god of the hearth. I am a god of food, and communication, and peace, and safety. I am all the things that fire used to mean, before humans learned again to fear the thing they had tamed. I do not often take a form, for fire is my form, but for her I must try.

There was a wise woman once, who knew me, whose clan visited this lake several times every year. I watched her grow up, and grow old. I watched her learn of the god of the fire stone, and I watched her teach others. She slept beside me as a child, and as a woman. She sang her children to sleep beside me, and her grandchildren, and dozed beside me as an old, old woman. To her, I was represented by a sign of a flame in an oval, a fire and a stone.

I build a likeness of her out of the light of the coals and the shadows of smoke, a child with straight dark hair and a simple tunic, and in lines of light I draw the sign of the fire and the stone on the outlined chest. “I am the fire,” I tell her, “and the stone. I am all the fires that have ever burned here, all the stories told, all the songs sung, all the meals eaten. I am the traveler’s hearth, and the rest for the weary, and this is my place.”

“Piedra de fuego,” she says, tracing the symbol with her finger in the air. “The fire stone.”

“Yes. I am the god of this place.”

She frowns at this. “My brother says that God is in the sky.”

“Many gods are in the sky.” I cannot continue to hold the form of the girl, but the coals shift to make my sign. “I am not. I am here. I have always been here, since the first people built a fire on my stone, and warmed themselves.”

She nods slowly. “You are… a small god,” she says thoughtfully. “A place god. Like in movies.”

“Yes.” I’ve heard of movies, which are a new way of telling old, old stories. “Old places, important places, often have gods. And gods who are forgotten return to their old places and wait, until someone believes again.”

“Will you protect us?” she asks. “When the police come, to tell us to move on?”

“I am not strong,” I tell her sadly. “I cannot make men go away from here, if they are dangerous, or even call game here for you as I once did. But what I can do, I will do.”

She sits watching the coals for a long time, thinking. “Can we make you stronger?”

I think too, and she waits patiently. “You have already made me stronger. You listened. You believed. If you can convince the others to believe, that will make me stronger still.”

She sighed. “They don’t believe in anything, anymore. Not good things.”

It is a sad thing, that she knows that. They’ve been trying to hide it from her. “Then,” I tell her, “that means there is a place in their hearts that is ready for me. I am not hope. I am not a happy ending. I am not a god in the sky. I am a stone, and a fire, and a song. I am *real*. They can believe in what is real.”

The next night, she asks for a story, and one of the adults tells her an old fairy-tale from a country far away.

The next night, again, she asks for a story, and another adult tells a funny story about his childhood.

On the third night, she asks her brother to tell her a story. He tries, but he is so tired - not physically, but emotionally - that he runs out of words. So she lays her hand on his arm and offers to tell him a story, instead.

And she tells them all a story about a stone near a lake, flat and strong, that people wearing uncured skins and carrying flint weapons built a fire on. She tells of centuries passing, of people coming to the lake on their feet, on horses, in carts and wagons, in cars and motor-homes. Of thousands of years of fires, of people gathered around them, of the great continuity of humanity, and the Piedra De Fuego that has lain in this place since time began, listening to the stories and the songs and the voices of people long gone. Somewhere in the stone, she says, laying her hand on it, all those stories are remembered. All those songs are still sung. And it will remember us too.

I don’t know if it will work. But I was right. People need to believe in something. They need something to hold onto, when times are hard, when the ties of community and family are broken and they feel alone. And a stone thousands of years old, and a fire endlessly renewed on that stone, always new… that is real. They touch me, and think of those who came before, of thousands of years of history meeting them in this place, and they feel less alone.

It’s not much, not yet. But it is something. My nature, my existence, as explained to them by my small, strange priestess, is a slender lifeline flung to those who are adrift, a tiny certainty in a world they do not trust. And the more they believe in that lifeline, that certainty, then the more they believe in me. I *am* growing stronger.

When the police come, I will not be able to make them leave… but I think I am strong enough now to hide my people from unkind eyes. And if I can do that, then their faith will grow.

Tonight, three more people come. A mother and two children, weary and beaten down with hardship. My people welcome them, give them fish and greens grown by the lake, speak kindly to them. And when they have eaten, my little priestess sits between the two children and tells them a story of a stone, and a fire, and thousands of years of stories and songs, and she sings a wordless lullaby six thousand years forgotten, but living again in a child who draws the sign of the Raven in the dirt while she sings, and the sign of the fire on the stone.

And I grow a little stronger.

#short fiction #original story #i aten't dead #the old gods #small gods #household gods #forgotten gods who do not forget

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star-anise · 1 year ago

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Everyone's got a take, and I've got a take too, about the current Internet Villain: James Somerton, a gay Youtuber who just got exposed (in the back half of a 4-hour video) as massively plagiarizing the work of LGBTQ+ media critics, historians, and memoirists, and then exposed in another 2-hour video as just making up the wildest nonsense about the topics he demonstrably had access to accurate information on.

He achieved a six-figure income on his work by squeezing money out of his audience with claims...

That only he was creating content that preserved queer history and elevated the voices and experiences of the LGBTQ+ community (a lie)

He was in serious financial distress and would have to go out of business if people didn't give him tons of money (a lie)

That he was going to use some of that cash to make definitely good and not-at-all-plagiarized independent movies, a thing he was definitely skilled and experienced enough to do (a lie), and

That those plagiarism allegations were incorrect,, and frankly,,,, hurtful and homophobic. (a GIANT lie)

Like, here's a visualization of the script of one of his videos, "Society and Queer Horror". The highlighted bits were lifted nearly verbatim from the works of others—the 18 authors identified at the time the exposé was posted—and presented as Somerton's own work.

So here's what drives me absolutely up the wall about this:

If he had just ADMITTED that it was the work of other people, THAT WOULD STILL BE COOL. If he had just said, up front, "We are going on a survey of thoughts and insights people have had about this topic", that would still be a good video with a real audience!

Like yes, he studied business in university, he might not have gotten the kinds of research skills and knowledge someone like Kaz Rowe uses to not just report on the history and analysis of others, but evaluate their relative validity and trustworthiness.

But honestly, since watching my niblings (oldest is 13) watch Youtube, I think you honestly can't underestimate the number of viewers who are really hungry for someone saying, "I don't understand this topic! Let's explore it together!"

But NOOOOOOO, Somerton didn't want to be just some schmuck waxing enthusiastic about homoeroticism on film and acknowledging the smartness of other people. He wanted to be HIM, MR. SMARTYBOY, very sophisticated and alluring and thoughtful and deep. Definitely an intellectual heavyweight who just happened to spout off his own personal ideas and analysis that put him at the forefront of all the scholarship on the topic he's come across.

I hate being wrong. Hate being wrong. But blogging for most of my life has forced me to confront constant textual evidence that two or ten or twenty years ago, I said some dumb-ass shit. Honestly, it'd probably keep me up at night sometimes even if I didn't have a written record. I absolutely understand the desire to scan the field, find the coolest people around, and quickly clothe yourself in as perfect an imitation of them as you can manage.

But if you want to be an artist or a scholar who produces something lasting, you can't prioritize coolness over truth all the time. To develop your true, independent voice, you need to find a time and place where it is just you and just the work you're doing, and you have pick up your tools and say, I don't know if I'm doing this right, but this is what feels right to me.

There are a lot of things in life to which we can only truly contribute our presence and our perspectives. Things we can only witness or hold space for. We cannot go back and bleed the pain out of history, or erase the complexity of another person's life. Not honestly, at least.

But those are the times that need our presence, our perspectives, our witness, and our space. When we gather round and tell sad tales about the death of kings, honesty can be the only thing you give that's worth a damn in the large scale of things.

If this dude had owned up to the truth and honestly showed the work of trying to piece together a queer understanding of the world, trying to draw the threads of culture together until he found a place he fit inside them, it would have been so much more valuable to our culture as a whole.

He probably made more money this way, though. While it lasted.

#staranise original #james somerton #plagiarism #lgbt discourse

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decayofroses · 3 months ago

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Succession war Kurapika

I've completed all the available HXH chapters (400), and there were a few scenes that really stood out to me with Kurapika.

I love and adore him as the main character of this arc, and we've seen his perspective and his downward spiral in yorknew.

Seeing him now, and how far he's strayed definitely makes his POV the most interesting to me.

I wanted to point out/ talk about some of the panels throughout the SW.

This panel especially stood out to me, and it's one of my favorites out of the entire manga. He mentions how every time he got a part of his brethren back- he lost something. While I think it could be a physical presence, I think he's talking about himself here more than anything.

Each time he's threatened, coaxed, paid people off, he's lost a part of himself.

Kurapika strays away from his relationships, while to protect them- and also what I believe is out of guilt (and the other which I'll go over in a moment). I think he knows what he's doing to himself, and I don't think he can handle facing it head on, or risking harming his friends physically or emotionally.

And again, when Kurapika agrees to join the zodiacs.

Straying even from Leorio, it's clear he'd rather face things alone, and without distractions. Which is exactly what they are, distractions.

His quest to collect his family is coming to an end. "Where would I go?" I think he means this in a literal, and metaphorical sense. Where will he end up by the end of this? Which path will he go down? He has no place to call home, and he truly believes he has nothing left, and nobody to welcome him back.

Despite having allies, and who quickly became close friends.

He didn't realize it at the time, but shortly after teaming up with Bill and others- he understood the importance of allies.

"Things didn't proceed so simply", things weren't as simple as gathering pawns, and walking the path of revenge alone.

He formed genuine bonds that mean more to him than simple pawns for his quest. He's now torn between his isolation, and his care for his friends. Despite this, he will continue to punish himself and walk this path alone- it's much harder than he'd originally intended. Pushing his friends away to complete his goal, because it serves as his only purpose in his eyes. Even if he knows it's wrong.

Oito asks if spying on the 4th prince is for his convenience. Kurapika takes a moment, and tells her this is simply a strategic choice. I don't think he's lying, but I do think he wants to protect her, and wobble- while still keeping contact with the Prince.

At the moment, he will prioritize protecting the two of them. I think it happens to align with his goal, but it isn't necessarily for his convenience.

The reason I bring this up is to highlight that despite the fact he wants to push his friends away, and work towards his goal- he won't risk the lives of others.

He says he will repeat it as many times as needed, that they are there to protect her and the prince. To trust him.

He tries to be someone who will risk everything for the sake of recovering the eyes, but deep down he can't. Much like how he cannot truly abandon his friends, only isolate himself.

Kurapika is loyal, and unwilling to sacrifice others for the sake of his goal. He forced a stalemate, and took advantage of his nen knowledge to level out the playing field. A stalemate buys them more time, making it so it won't be as easy for experienced nen users to take advantage of non nen users.

It was a brilliant idea that may be risky, but also offers protection for him, and the queen.

During this conversation with Mizaistom, it's clear that Kurapika has not abandoned all of his morals, he wants to avoid killing the Prince despite having the remaining eyes. He would rather try other methods, and is opposed to killing.

Mizaistom and Kurapikas dynamic is one of my favorites, but that's for another time.

That's all I have to talk about, for now. I wanted to go over my favorite panels, and his relationships in the succession war.

#kurapika #hunter x hunter #hxh 2011 #hxh #succession war #dark content #kurapika kurta #leorio paladiknight #mizaistom nana #oito #analysis #character analysis #kurapika analysis

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wonijinjin · 11 months ago

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seventeen members when their introverted s/o feels socially exhausted

author’s note: i am a very extroverted person so it was a bit difficult to write this but i hope i could still make it comforting for my introvert darlings. enjoy!

synopsis: what the title says

word count: 1.0k | genre: fluff, comfort | pairings: seventeen x gn! reader | warnings: mentions of food, mental health

seungcheol would be a little bit taken aback at first since his nature makes him an absolute worrier; he would be asking you if you were feeling okay. if you were out in the city he would definitely suggest going home so you could recharge your energy in peace, next to his comforting presence. you could also expect him to be extra clingy after you gave him the green light of being in your more extroverted mood again.

now jeonghan is known to get drained eventually in social situations aswell, so he would be no stranger to helping you feel comfortable. he would make sure you had a little bit of quiet, leaving you for a bit with your thoughts to really think about what you wanted, and whatever that might be he would be sure to give it to you; cuddles or alone time, sleeping or just the two of you talking mindlessly about various topics.

joshua is very observant so he would notice the signs of you getting pretty tired, that is why he would make an excuse to get the pair of you home from the friendly gathering you were attending at that time, since he wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable by asking directly. after stepping inside your bedroom he would surely ask if you wanted to talk about it with him, and do as you decide to proceed.

jun is one of the more silent lovers, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t be the most attentive partner to ever exist. he is quick witted so he would always have advice for you if you needed it regarding getting through a difficult time, guiding you through the ways he had solved this problem in the past. you could also expect him to buy you your comfort foods aswell, because he wants you to take care of yourself.

hoshi is a very extroverted person so he may have trouble with helping you if you got socially exhausted, but he would do everything in his power to be a fast learner. he would want you tell him whenever you needed a break from him and his friends since you hung out a lot on a daily basis, and he would gladly bomb you with long voice messages saying during you recharge period so you wouldn’t feel alone even then.

wonwoo has a very quiet way of caring for you, usually many silent acts of service included in it; the moment he saw your energy levels drop he would absolutely ask if you wanted to spend some time away from people, whispering into your ear lowly as he stroked your hair in an encouraging and comforting manner to let him know what you wanted to do next to which he would happily adjust his schedule too.

woozi doesn’t go out often so he might be a little bit confused about your feelings, but he would be desperate to understand what you mean. he would just take you to his studio where the two of you could easily lay on the couch, calming muic playing in the background while he patiently listened to your worries, cooing at how exhausted you probably looked and felt, trying to get you to sleep beside him to get the rest you deserved.

dk can be a very loud person sometimes so it would probably take some time for him to notice your change in behaviour, after you constantly going to social events, having to surround yourself with people frequently. he would be all over you (actually kind of making the situation even worse lmao) trying to figure out a way to help, to which you would gladly accept the cuddles offered by him, needing his touch only.

mingyu is also a very hyped man so he would definitely be sulking upon hearing you say that you were very drained and wanted some peace and quiet since this puppy cannot shut up. poor boy would be so careful around you, being afraid of upsetting you by making noise every minute, and you would have to tell him that he was always welcomed in your space, to which he would happily smother you in kisses.

minghao can be very understanding about your feelings, he himself likes to spend some time to take care of his mental health and well-being, this is why when you confided in him and talked about how you felt he would suggest trying meditation with him. he would also encourage you to openly say no to people when you don’t feel like letting them into your personal space or not wanting to hang out with them.

your mental health may be one of the most important things for seungkwan, since he knows how badly it can affect your mood if you are not feeling comfortable. he would baby you a lot, letting you come to him with your worries and thoughts so he won’t overwhelm you with his constant questions. he would also make sure you eat and drink enough since he no how you tend to neglect your own needs from time to time.

vernon is the perfect example of a person who can be left alone and enjoy his time without others’ presence so if you ever felt burnt out from people but still wanted to be active in some kind of way he would have many ideas offered to you about how to get that much needed recharge from the world; trying a new hobby which doesn’t include other individuals and can make you relax while doing it.

dino knew something was up with you the moment he looked into you direction, he knew you exceeded your limits and wished to rest a bit, to turn your mind off. he would take you dancing with him (even if you were just watching) to make you focus on the beatsof the music and move to it, shaking the stres away off your tired form and to physically exhaust yourself to then get into bed and sleep easily like a baby.

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felixcloud6288 · 1 year ago

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It's Hurricane Season so I'd like to share some advice as a life-long Floridian who's experienced a few things. This is going to be directed primarily to people living in areas at risk of blackouts which could last several days.

Preparations

Aside from food, water, and gas, some things you'll want to make sure you have are flashlights and batteries. Make sure to refill any medications you might need.

From @dea-certe: Fill up all vehicles and maybe a few gas containers now. Firstly because it will be more expensive in the storm aftermath, but also because it will be harder to find. I went to five different gas stations to find fuel at one point and was kicking myself because I had used so much has keeping the phones charged and keeping the heat going.

Get raincoats in case you need to go outside cause the wind will destroy any umbrellas.. If you can't get one, take a garbage bag and tear a face hole into it and use that.

Also, get bug repellent, especially mosquito repellent. Mosquitos breed around still water and there will be a lot of still water.

And if you have an infant, make sure to stock up on diapers, baby wipes, etc. Even if you don't have an infant, baby wipes can be useful to help keep yourself clean.

You might want to buy some gardening gloves as well to make the post-storm cleanup safer.

SUPER IMPORTANT FOR SANITY AND SANITATION: get caught up on laundry and dishes. No power means no running water. Don't make things worse by not having clean dishes or clean clothes to use. While you're cleaning, change your bed sheets as well. Once you have power, change your sheets again.

Also, download any games, ebooks, shows, etc you can onto any battery-charged electronic devices you have. It will help your sanity when all you can do is wait.

From @metadata-uber-alles: My recommendation re: radio is to make sure you have an actual AM/FM radio, one that can run on batteries. You can probably thrift it if you don't have one already. Most radio stations stream online too, but if the power goes out you'll be rationing your phone battery and may not have internet.

Finally, while you should ideally board up your windows to protect them from debris, make sure at the minimum that all your windows are closed. Wind pressures are going to suck air out of any openings in your home.

Food and Water

First and most important: DO NOT BE A HOARDER!!

Even if your home has no power, that doesn't mean your local grocery store has no power. You can expect some reduced supply due to damaged supply lines and a spike in demand, but you shouldn't be worrying about empty shelves. At worst, have the amount of supplies you might need for 10 days. If you normally go to the grocery store every 2 weeks or longer, just stock up the amount you normally would.

Buy more items that are less likely to spoil and don't need refrigeration. When you have no power, prioritize eating anything which requires refrigeration (milk, cheese, meats) or has a short shelf life (bread).

Demand will be higher in preparation, and supply will be diminished for a bit, but supply issues only become unbearable when people start hoarding.

As for water, you'll need a surplus since you need water for so much. I cannot stress this particular part enough:

You need water to flush your toilet.

If there's somewhere with running water you can go when you need to poop, use that whenever possible, but you need water available at home to refill your toilet's cistern if you don't have that option (either time, distance, etc).

Make sure you have a supply of drinking water. Don't go buying every water bottle you can find (See the bit about hoarding), but you should buy more than you might normally use. Instead, gather water through things like your sink or from a hose into any sealable containers you might have . If you have a bathtub, fill it up just before the hurricane. If you have a pool, that's another source of water. If no debris got in the pool, you can use it for bathing. If you have empty buckets, you can get some additional water during the hurricane by filling them with large rocks or bricks and leaving them out in the open to collect the rain water.

Different water sources will be used for different purposes:

bottled, canned, or other store-bought water: Drinking, cooking, and refrigeration (explained later)

Water in unsealed containers: refill the toilet cistern

Water in a sealed containers: bathing and cleaning (Can also be used for the toilet)

As mentioned with food, supplies at your grocer will be reduced but not necessarily empty. You should be able to buy enough additional drinking water and be able to also use it for cleaning, giving you more water for the toilet. The tip about gathering rain water will only work once. There will likely be no rain for at least a week afterward.

In case you need to evacuate

Keep tabs on whatever emergency alerts are available. Check what your local radio channel is or what sites to check online. Make sure you know how to get to your local shelter, including alternate paths in case a road is inaccessible.

Load your vehicle with anything you might need to bring with you before the storm so you don't have to spend time looking for them and double checking when every minute could count. Pack some pillows, blankets, and extra clothes just in case. Also include anything you cannot risk losing for school or work like laptops.

Refrigeration

Without power, your fridge is now just a giant cooler and a ticking bomb to being a biohazard. Fill it up as much as possible. Cold air escapes easily when you open it and heat disperses fastest throw the air. Remember how I said you should buy extra water? A fridge filled with cold water will stay cooler longer. Any liquid will do. Fill your fridge with water bottles, soda cans, beer, fruit juice, whatever. As long as it doesn't spoil at room temperature. Milk can technically help too, but since it spoils you shouldn't keep much of it and should use it quickly.

Additional things like fruits and veggies will also help. What matters is you want to reduce the amount of empty space and fill it with anything which can keep the temperature down. Put a frozen block of iron in for all I care. Just don't have a super empty fridge.

If you have a generator

Good for you. You're not completely without power now. But you need to set priorities on what to use it for. Generators can only supply so much power at a time so you can't just hook everything to it and expect things to work out.

Top priority is the fridge. Twice a day, morning and evening, plug the fridge to the generator and let it run for two hours to cool things down. Don't hook up the fridge when you don't expect to open it (like when everyone is asleep).

Second priority should be charging cell phones, laptops, and anything else like that. Depending on your circumstances, you can charge them at work, from your car, etc so only hook them up when batteries are low.

Third, comfort. I understand this will be stressful, but hooking up your tv and gaming computer isn't the best idea. If you've done what I suggested earlier, you'll at least have something to watch or do without needing to hook it to your generator. Like with the above electronics, you might be able to find other ways to charge them, but only attach them to your generator when you don't need to worry about necessities.

Finally for the love of god, DO NOT HOOK AN AC TO THE GENERATOR!!. Air conditioners draw a lot of power, especially once the room is hot. But your generator can only do so much. The AC will kill your power supply really quickly. Use a fan or the AC in your vehicle if you need to cool down.

Also worth noting, if you have an electric vehicle, that could potentially be used as well. I don't know specifics, but look into that if you own one.

Final notes

This is not comprehensive and I may be wrong about some things.

Please refer to actual expert sources for comprehensive help.

This is just suggestions from someone who has to deal with this every year and has figured out how to deal with the aftermath. Your living conditions may be different so please check how to handle any concerns unique to you.

Stay safe and do not give up hope.

#original post #hurricane #hurricane prep #weather

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babyboydaniel · 11 months ago

Text

Red Wine (M)

Daniel Ricciardo x Fem!Reader

Summary: You cannot stand Daniel, so how did you both end up in the bathroom together?

Smut, Fluff (?) | Warnings: 18+, PinV, Fingering, Semi-Public | Word Count: 4.3K

If there was one thing that you were sure of, you could not stand Daniel Ricciardo. You hated that people fawned over him, laughing at all his jokes, his stupid teeth-bearing grin which was constantly plastered to his face, or that he genuinely seemed to care about everyone he spoke to. He had this unwavering dedication to look like a nice guy. But, you saw right through him. He was a cocky, arrogant asshole that needed a reality check. So, any time you were forced to spend your free time with him, you were less than thrilled. Getting a root canal without novocaine sounded more enjoyable.

So, when your close friend invited you to a small housewarming party, you knew that Daniel was destined to be there. Everything told you to reject the invite and spend the night with a bottle of wine and binge-watching Sex and the City. However, you were a good friend and confirmed your attendance.

After a couple of weeks, you were standing outside the front door of your friend’s new home, your arms filled with gifts and food to share. As you struggled to balance everything without the risk of it toppling over, someone called out from behind you, “Do you need some help with that?”

You rolled your eyes as you looked back at him. Daniel. He was walking up the pathway with that perma smile on his face. He was dressed in an oversized sweater and slim-cut black jeans. His hair was longer than when you had seen him last and somehow curlier. You would even go as far as to say he looked good, but he ruined any illusions when he opened his mouth. Nobody is that happy all the time.

“I got it,” you stated, still working to get a hand free to ring the doorbell so someone could come open the door.

Daniel stood patiently behind you, his arms crossed while he watched you juggle everything. A tiny amused smirk pulled at his lips.

You struggled for a couple of minutes before you felt someone come up behind you. Their chest pressed against your back, and their tan tattoo-covered arm reached past you to push open the front door.

“I would have died out here at the rate that was going,” Daniel laughed in your ear. Close enough that the warmth of his breath sent a shiver down your spine. You noticeably flinched from him as you walked through the threshold, wanting as much distance from him as possible.

“I had it,” you muttered as he walked past you, traveling further into the house.

Daniel turned back and winked at you, “Sure, babe.”

The sound of his laughter carried down the hallway. Gosh, he was insufferable.

While you removed your shoes, your friend rounded the corner into the foyer to help collect the things from your arms. You thanked her for the help as you followed the sounds towards the kitchen. Gathered around the island were a small group of your closest friends, glasses of wine in hand, and plates full of a perfectly crafted charcuterie board.

“Do you want a glass of wine?” your friend asked, putting down the dish you brought.

“Please,” you said, “What kind do you have?”

Your friend showed you the two open bottles, and to no surprise, they were both specialty DR3 wines. You rolled your eyes.

“Daniel brought these to share,” your friend explained.

Of course, he did. Always one to outdo everyone else. Most would see the gesture as sweet, not you; it was simply a way to feed his ego. Showing off how successful he was, subtly rubbing it in people’s faces.

“Whichever is fine with me,” you lamented.

She quickly poured you a glass before pushing you to make yourself a plate and join the conversation. If luck would have it, you wound up standing next to Daniel. He was casually leaning against the counter, hands gesturing wildly, as he encaptured the people around in a story that you were sure was far more boring than people let on. You slowly ate the assortment of cheese and meat on your plate as you tried to drown out what Daniel was going on about until you heard your name called by the man himself.

“Yes?” you questioned.

“Where did you go? I called your name like five times,” he chuckled.

“I was just enjoying the cheese,” you stated simply.

Your response caused Daniel to throw his head back as a genuine laugh racked his body. The corner of his eyes crinkled up, and his hand lifted to cover his mouth. Your response wasn’t that funny.

“Gosh, you’re funny,” he giggled.

You shook your head, “If you say so.”

Daniel just continued to grin at you as you met his gaze. Laughter still danced in his warm golden eyes. His face was so open and welcoming, but you knew better than to trust it.

“You were asking me a question?” you enquired, trying to get the conversation over as soon as possible.

“Oh yeah. Umm…” Daniel chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, “I already forgot.”

“Great,” you responded.

Before he could say anything further, your friend and their partner called for everyone’s attention and directed us to the dining room for dinner. The group shuffled through the archway to the attached room, where among the beautiful tablescape was dinner for the night. As everyone found their seat, you sat down in the chair nearest to you and felt someone pull out the chair to your right. You quickly glanced over to see that Daniel moved to occupy the seat. It was as if the world was playing a cruel trick on you. Was he painfully unaware that you did not like him?

The alcohol flowed and food was passed around the table. The room buzzed with laughter and conversation. You spent most of the meal talking to your friend on the left, doing a damn good job at ignoring the man opposite of you. That was until you felt a tender touch placed on your forearm. You looked down to find long, slender fingers delicately wrapped around your wrist, and the bold outline of a rose contrasted the sun-kissed skin. Your gaze trailed up their arm until your eyes landed on Daniel’s. His expression looked as if he was awaiting a response.

“Yes?” you questioned, clearly annoyed.

Your annoyance did nothing to deter Daniel. He smiled back at you, his hand still on your skin, “Did you want more wine?”

That is what he interrupted an obviously important conversation for. You rolled your eyes.

“Uh, no,” you grumbled, “but you can stop touching me now.”

Daniel looked down at where you were still connected and quickly pulled his hand from you. He flashed you a quick smile as an apology. You rolled your eyes involuntarily as you turned back to your previous discussion.

“If you keep rolling your eyes, they are going to get stuck like that,” Daniel whispered as he leaned over to you. His firm chest pressed to your arm. Warmth spreads throughout your body once again.

“Well, stop giving me a reason to,” you sassed.

That caused Daniel to chuckle, his breath fanning over your cheek, which was undoubtedly flushed. It must be from the alcohol. That was the only explanation. Not from the proximity of Daniel Ricciardo.

“Babe, there are plenty of other things I can do to make your eyes roll to the back of your head,” Daniel murmured, his lips ghosting over your ear before pulling back and settling in his chair.

“Dick,” you muttered, picking up a glass of water, attempting to reject your body’s reaction to his words. You could hear Daniel laugh as he watched your movements. Gosh, you could not stand him.

With a gulp of water and a sigh, you turned back to your friend. The conversation picked up from where you left off. But you were granted only a couple of minutes of peace before you felt a warm liquid spread over your lap. You gasped as you looked down and saw red wine seeping into the white satin material of your skirt. Before you could even react, Daniel’s hands were dabbing a napkin on the growing stain.

“Shit,” he stated, which he continued to repeat as he pawed at your lap, which did nothing to rescue the ruined skirt.

You sat there stunned, watching Daniel attempt to clean up the mess.

Daniel’s eyes met yours, his eyebrows furrowed in worry, and his ever-permanent smile was replaced with a downturn of his lips.

“I am so sorry,” he declared.

You just continued to stare at him, mouth hanging open, “What the fuck?”

Daniel flinched slightly from the chill in your voice, his hands coming to rest where they still resided in your lap.

“I am sorry,” he repeated, “I will get you a new one. Fuck, this is my bad.”

Without a word, you pushed back from the table and stomped off to the bathroom. Unbelievably irritated. It was no surprise Daniel had to go and ruin something. You closed the door behind you as you stripped the skirt from your body, placing the soiled material in the sink, hoping to get some of the wine out. There wouldn’t be a stain if you were quick enough to run it under cold water. You looked at yourself in the mirror as you let the cold water flow over the skirt. Annoyance read on your face. Tears of frustration prickled in your eyes.

“Fuck, I am so so-” Daniel exclaimed as he burst through the closed bathroom door. He immediately stopped in his tracks as his eyes landed on you standing over the sink in your underwear and the light sweater that covered your chest.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath.

“Daniel, what the hell! Have you ever heard of knocking?” you chastised.

He quickly turned around and covered his eyes, “I just wanted to apologize again and see if there was anything I could help you with. I did not expect you to be naked.”

“I am not naked,” you snickered.

“Well, you are not exactly dressed.”

“True. And if that is the case, why are you still standing there?”

You could hear Daniel gulp, the lines of his back flexing under his sweater. He slowly turned around to face you, his hands still covered his eyes. His tongue flicked out to wet his lips. There was a tinge of warmth on his cheeks, “Umm, well, I want to help.”

You chuckled. He sounded so innocent that you were half tempted to let him. But, you were in a state of undress that you did not need him witnessing. He had embarrassed you enough for the night. You did not need him to humiliate you further. On the other hand, it was his mess, and he should be the one to fix it.

“Fine,” you sighed, “you can take over trying to get this stain out.”

Daniel peeked through his fingers, “Really?”

You nodded and backed away from the sink, which put you closer to Daniel in the confined space. Daniel dropped his hands and shuffled around you to occupy the spot you once resided in and got to work. You sat on the closed toilet while he ran more cold water into the basin. The two of you were silent while Daniel massaged the material, trying to encourage the wine to leave the skirt. You caught yourself mesmerized by the way his fingers flexed and slid against the fabric. Being both extremely gentle and firm.

“The stain is better, but I do not think we are getting it out,” Daniel stated, which brought you out of your trance.

You got up from your place on the toilet and took a couple of steps over to him. You leaned over the sink to look at the ruined skirt and deemed your attempts as a lost cause. You sighed as you rested your back against the sink. Your arm pressed against Daniel’s. He looked down at you. His eyes were apologetic as well as something else you could not place.

“Sorry. As I said, I will get you a new one,” Daniel apologized.

You shook your head, “It is fine. Shit happens.”

“No, no. I fucked up, and I will get you something to replace it.”

You nodded in response, knowing there was no chance of winning against Mr. Nice Guy.

“What am I supposed to wear now? I cannot walk around in my underwear.”

“I mean, I wouldn’t mind that,” Daniel joked.

You slapped him in the chest, “Ha ha, you are so funny. I am serious.”

“So I am I,” his face completely serious.

You both looked at each other, willing the other to back down. The staring contest continued until you could see the exact moment a thought came to him. A few seconds passed before he spoke his brilliant plan out loud.

“I could give you my sweater to wear,” he offered, almost sheepishly.

You were silent as you debated the pros and cons of that offer. And before you could contemplate any farther, you were tossing off the sweater you had on. It landed with a gentle thud on the floor. Daniel’s eyes widened in shock, but there was a fire that simmered beneath the surface as he looked over your now exposed skin, resting to ogle at your breasts a beat longer than what was considered polite.

You held out your hands for Daniel to give you the sweater. He fumbled to pull it over his head, messing up his curls in the process, but he did not hand it over to you.

“Arms up,” he whispered as if not to scare you.

You narrowed your eyes at him, head cocked to the side, but decided not to argue. The faster this was over the faster you could get out of the cramped room. So, much to Daniel’s pleasure, you followed his command and raised your arms. Daniel slipped the fabric over your head, his fingers trailing down your arms as he guided them through the openings, goosebumps left in their wake. Once your head and hands were through the holes, Daniel shifted the sweater over your body. His hands grazed your sides until the bottom of the top rested mid-thigh. You shivered as his fingers played with the hem, accidentally caressing the fullness of your thighs. An inaudible whine fell from your parted lips. The clothing smelled like him, something warm, expensive, and, for some reason, comforting. You shook your head in an attempt to clear your mind. You should not be having these thoughts about someone you despise.

“Thank you,” you coughed as you pressed further back into the sink, trying to create space between you.

“You’re welcome,” Daniel croaked, hands falling to his sides, “It is the least I can do.”

You hummed in agreement, waiting for him to move from your personal space. But, he did no such thing. He continued to stare at you. As if he was debating something in his mind. His right hand reached out as if he wanted to grab you but thought better of it.

“Umm, are you-”

“Can I kiss you?” Daniel interrupted.

Your mouth snapped shut, shocked by his request. Like Daniel has to know you do not like him. So why is he now asking to kiss you? And you know for a fact you cannot stand him, so why are you not slapping him in the face for merely suggesting it? But, you were thinking about humoring him and letting him kiss you. No, you could never. It would only make him even more unbearable. Though they do say hate sex is some of the best you can experience, could that be the same with just a kiss? So, before you could think too much you were nodding your head.

Daniel, pleased with your response, reached out to gently cup your jaw. His thumb ran along the skin there while his other hand rested on the small of your waist. The fabric bunched up beneath his fingers. He leaned in and looked down at you, locking eyes and giving you a chance to back out. You did not. So he closed the short distance and placed his lips against yours.

The moment his lips met yours, it was fire. Everything burned but in the best way. You panted as Daniel pulled you closer, his tongue slipping past your parted lips. His tongue brushed against yours in a delicate but firm massage reminiscent of his hands ringing out your skirt. You threw your arms around his neck, fingers tangling in his hair. A moan left your mouth, and Daniel bit your bottom lip before diving back in. Kissing you deeper. After what felt like hours, but it was only seconds, Daniel pulled back. His thumb reached up to run along your wet, full lip. His eyes were ablaze. The once honey eyes now looked like molten glass.

Then his lips were back on yours. He kissed you with such force that you were convinced he was going to leave a bruise. His tongue fought yours for dominance, neither wanting to concede to the other. You were in no mood to give him the upper hand. You tugged at the hair laced in your fingers, silently urging Daniel to back down. Unsurprisingly, doing so did the complete opposite; Daniel groaned into your mouth as he doubled his efforts. The whimpers he coaxed from you proved how much you enjoyed it and spurred him on. He pulled your body flush against his, slotting his knee between your legs, and pressed his thigh where you needed it most. Your body automatically ground against his with want. Daniel bucked his hips as your thigh brushed along his hardening cock. Daniel removed himself from your lips. His mouth moving to place gentle kisses along the length of your neck. You whined as he nipped at the skin there.

“You better not leave any marks,” you scolded breathlessly.

Daniel snickered but did not stop his ministrations. His hand that was once on your waist had made its way down to your thigh. Fingers slipping under the sweater, lightly touching the skin there. Teasing you, running along the length of your underwear before dipping beneath the band and snapping it back against your heated skin as he continued his way up your side until he reached just below your breast. His fingers danced along the edge of your bra. His lips were at your ear when he whispered, “I want to fuck you.”

The noise that you made was sinful.

“Fuck, Daniel,” you muttered.

“Is that a yes?” he prompted, pulling back to look you in the eyes.

“Right here?” you questioned.

“Right here,” he confirmed, his body pressed against yours.

Your eyes shifted to the unlocked, closed door, “What if someone walks in or can hear us?”

Daniel shrugged, and that arrogant smirk graced his lips again, “Who cares? They would only be jealous that I am the one fucking you.”

That comment went straight to your pussy. You could feel the wetness begin to coat your underwear. You were so turned on at the idea of someone catching you guys that nothing could stop you from going through with it. You needed Daniel. So, you found yourself nodding your head once again.

“Okay, but we are going to have to be quick. We have already been gone for a long time,” you expressed.

With you in agreement, Daniel quickly captured your lips with his before pulling his undershirt over his head. Your eyes scanned his ink-covered skin, taking him in. Your hands reached out on their own accord and ran over the smooth planes of his chest. Your fingers brushed over his hardened nipples as they wandered. Daniel hissed at the contact.

While your fingertips danced over his body, Daniel pulled a condom out of his pocket before ridding himself of his pants and boxers. Then he was standing in front of you naked. An absolutely delicious sight. As if your hands had a mind of their own, you followed his happy trail to where a dusting of pubes rested above his beautiful cock. Possibly the most beautiful thing about him. His cock was hard and flushed and oh so tantalizing. That you immediately wrapped your fingers around him, and ran your hand up his length, giving him a couple of pumps. Daniel moaned. Precum leaked from his swollen tip. Mouth-watering. You just wanted to sink to your knees and take him in your mouth. To taste him, to have him grip your hair while he fucked your wet, open mouth. But, as if he could read your mind, Daniel removed your hands from him.

“As much as I want to take my time here, we have to be quick remember?”

“Right,” you responded.

Daniel returned his lips to yours as he pulled down your underwear, forcing them down your legs until they hit the floor. His left hand grabbed your thigh to hook your leg around his waist. You moaned as your now bare, wet pussy glided along Daniel’s length. Your hips lustfully rocked against him as the head of his cock caught against your clit. Daniel swore under his breath as he gripped your hip to stop your movements.

“Babe, I want to last long enough to fuck you,” Daniel groaned.

“Then hurry up,” you demanded.

With a chuckle, Daniel reached between your bodies, his fingers ran down your wet folds. Collecting the juices that leaked from you, teasing you as he gently circled your clit. Barely providing any pressure, giving you just enough for your cunt to pulse around nothing.

“Daniel,” you whined.

That prompted him to press two fingers into your dripping core. You moaned at the intrusion. Daniel pumped his fingers into you at a quick pace. Wanting to loosen you up enough to take his cock. The sound of your wetness mixed with the moans that came from your mouth. Daniel pulled his fingers out of you, so he could quickly roll the condom on his leaking cock.

Once sheathed, he ran the tip of his cock through your wetness. Coating himself in you. Then without warning, he fucked into you. You moaned as he filled you up. Loving the way he stretched you. It was orgasmic. Daniel groaned as you clenched around him. Then he was thrusting into you deep and hard, unrelenting as he was trying to get both of you to orgasm. You chanted his name as he rhythmically pumped into you. As you began to come undone beneath him, Daniel returned his hand between your legs to rub your clit. Doubling the pleasure. You shoved your hand in your mouth, muffling the sounds of pleasure that you could not contain. You were going to come embarrassingly quick and by the sounds of it so was Daniel.

“I am going to come,” you moaned.

“Me too,” Daniel responded.

He picked up the pace pushing you closer to the edge. Daniel leaned forward to quickly kiss you before he commanded, “Come for me.”

That is all it took. A scream ripped from your throat as you released over his cock. The squelch of wetness echoed against the tiled walls. As your pussy constrcited around Daniel’s cock it was more than enough to have him come. Fucking his dick deep in you as he released into the condom. The guttuaral sound he made caused your release to drip down his cock as your pussy coaxed more cum from him. Wanting him to empty everything into you. You both were panting as Daniel pulled out.

Daniel untangled your leg from around him in order to wrap you in his arms. An innocent kiss was pressed to your lips before Daniel stepped back to remove the condom and tossing it in the bin.

Daniel’s arms quickly returned to pull you into his chest. A sweet kiss was placed on your forehead as he held you for a moment. You both stood there, breathing each other in as you came down from your highs, before Daniel removed his arms so you could clean yourself up.

Once clean, you shimmied your underwear back up your body while Daniel got dressed himself. Looking in the mirror, you tried your best to fix your appearance so it did not look like you just were fucked in the bathroom, but you are sure it was useless. Neither of you was quiet, you are positive everyone heard.

Once your clothes were back in place. Daniel wrapped his arms around you and pressed a kiss to your temple. Undoubtedly cuddly after an orgasm.

“Next time I am going to fuck you properly,” Daniel declared. You shivered. Pressing your thighs together just at the thought.

“Oh, so you think there will be a next time?” you challenged.

Daniel laughed that cocky laugh, “Babe, I know there will be a next time.”

With that, he kissed you one last time before grabbing your hand and leading you out of the bathroom. The both of you made your way into the living room, where everyone had moved to after the incident. All eyes turned to the two of you as you walked through the doorway.

“I guess the bathroom has been christened,” your friend joked.

Your face heated up with embarrassment, your neck and cheeks turned a fiery red. Daniel just pulled you closer and pressed a kiss to your cheek.

“Next time I will just bend her over the dining table and have everyone watch,” Daniel retorted.

“Daniel!” you exclaimed, smacking him.

All he could do was laugh and guide you to an empty place on the sofa. Pulling you onto his lap, though there was enough space for you to sit next to him, and he joined the conversation. Maybe Daniel was not so bad after all.

#daniel ricciardo #danny ric #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo smut #daniel ricciardo fic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 smut #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo x y/n #daniel ricciardo x fem!reader

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incognitopolls · 1 year ago

Note

can we like. ban the "see results" option it literally makes 99% of these polls completely useless

I know it's frustrating when the results are heavily skewed by responses outside of the target audience, and I'm sorry about that, but no– this isn't something I plan to change.

Short answer:

If you're willing to do some math, you can subtract the "see results" votes and calculate what the actual percentages would be. Most people won't want to do math, and that's fine; without getting fancy at all, if you just ignore the "see results" line entirely, you can still see which options are the highest, which are lowest, etc. The numbers just won't add up to 100%.

Longer answer:

The majority of votes on polls come from people who see it via reblogs (rather than organically in searches or from following this blog). People don't reblog polls unless they get to click a button. If the buttons only allow responses from a limited group, reblogs will be extremely limited and therefore the response pool is too.

Take for example this poll about colorblindness. I forgot to add a "not colorblind" option to the submission, and it got 36 notes and 72 responses. Compare that to any of the polls in the days before and after it; all of those got 1000+ responses. I can't prove anything from that, but it's pretty clear to me that it's related– and that if non-colorblind people had been able to vote on that one, they also would have reblogged, and then the poll would have reached more colorblind people.

In a situation where a poll reaches more of the "in" group because the "out" group got to click a button too, it will always be true that the absolute data is skewed– but the relative data is actually more useful because it polls a larger sample size of the "in" group. Even then, though, it's worth keeping in mind that this blog does not and cannot serve as a genuine research tool; it's a fun way to gather anecdotal data but that is its limit.

#not polls

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helenazbmrskai · 5 months ago

Text

Guide on how to not marry the Northern Duke [2/2] - End

Title [Guide on how to not marry the Northern Duke.]

Pairing [Northen Duke! Yoongi x Reincarnated! Reader]

Genre [Fantasy Romance, Reincarnation, World in a novel AU, smut, angst]

Summary [You might be a lady with a significant house backing you but Yoongi thinks he’s not lacking anything as a husband candidate. He could give you money, real estate, jewellery, dresses everything you wanted so why did you reject him so confidently? The Duke of the North is getting a stack of marriage proposals daily that could fuel the fire in the fireplace all day long in his office so why did YOU reject him again?]

Words [10,1k]

Warnings [harassment, mention of blood, mention of hunting animals, sexual content: oral sex, unprotected sex]

Rating [+18]

A/N: This is not perfect but I hope you guys will like the ending of this story.

Masterlist // part 1 // I don't do tag lists anymore I'm sorry!

As a quote “knight”, you wear your dress and accessories like armour on your way to the battlefield which is called idle chatting with the noble ladies. You feel like you got accustomed to your circumstances by now being in a new world in a stranger's body.

You completely merged yourself with Y/N. It gives you an advantage that some things come to you naturally but on the other hand, it’s scary because if you accept this as your reality then that means you’re stuck here forever. Don’t be mistaken after you died in your previous life and reincarnated this is something to be grateful for – this is your second chance at living. Even if you’re aware of all that you keep wondering if your family back there is ever missing you or if they are living well, or if your friends or coworkers think about you sometimes. It feels like you’re living a double life. The people around you have a conception of your personality they’ve seen you grow up with them but in the end – you’re not Y/N. If you think about that you feel miserable.

They don’t know you. They now Y/N.

Even if Y/N now is – you.

There’s only one person you can be truly yourself is surprisingly when you’re with Yoongi.

Can’t make much of an excuse today as you’ve avoided attending these events altogether. Avoiding Yoongi. There’s no fantasy romance novel without a hunting competition scene so you know these gatherings quite well. The men go out hunting and the person who gets the rarest animal as prey wins the competition. All this time women are dressing up and gossiping all day. You’re not too keen on joining them today but since you were personally invited you cannot refuse even if you wanted. The moment they set their eyes on you behind their fancy fans you know they are up to no good.

This is the time when the female lead is ridiculed and humiliated so why are you in this situation when you’re supposed to be the villain bullying people? They invite you to sit but their smiles tell you they’re not really happy to see you show up in their circles.

“It’s been a while Lady Y/N.” The first to speak is Duchess Hee; as far as you know, you’ve never talked before. You greeted each other in formal settings but that’s about it. Whilst her expression is controlled you could sense hostility from her. Even though you’re not going out much Y/N is still getting new enemies on top of the old ones – can you call this the buff of the villainess? You’re unsure how to assess the situation so you decided to grasp the atmosphere first and speak carefully for now.

“Yes Duchess Hee, have you been well?” You gracefully sit on the empty chair between two ladies who continuously glare at you. Y/N is a notorious troublemaker who disregards everyone under her status so the ladies seem surprised at how coordinated you are. You just wish things go well enough that no one tries to pull your hair today.

“Of course. I haven’t seen you much these days perhaps were you sick?” It’s obvious that she’s trying to mock you. Everyone knows that you were on probation by the order of the duke after the mishaps you created in the social circles.

You have no idea why she’s attacking you all of a sudden but you need to be smart about this.

The rule is that the one who gets angry first is the one who loses so you need to keep your cool no matter how they try to provoke you. If a reasonable amount of time passes then you can excuse yourself that you’re not feeling well and you can get out of here.

You need to hold out until then.

“No, I’ve been well thank you for asking. I’ve been reflecting on my actions during that time. If I caused trouble I hope the ladies could forgive me with a gracious heart.” Smooth. Some of them seem taken aback that you apologised so they are momentarily at loss of words. Some awkwardly laugh it off and some keep glaring. The duchess however keeps her eyes on you probably trying to find some fault in you to get started.

Since Y/N had a bad temper her visceral reaction was to get angry at the slightest disrespect but you’re different. You’re not that easy to provoke. You’re a modern woman who worked in a capitalistic company for years – some backhanded rude comment won’t do much.

“It feels like the lady is a different person. How unexpected. What could have made you change so much? Perhaps .. a new lover?” You almost spit out the tea when you hear the duchess’ inquiry. This is so unexpected that don’t know what to say for a moment.

“Ah, yes? Well, no I’m not seeing anyone at the moment.” You try to cover up your slip-up but the duchess’ smile is getting bigger but not in a good way. What is she up to?

Is she on the Min Yoongi fanclub as well; because that would explain so much.

“I see. I must have heard wrong then.” She let it go too easily, something smells fishy here. After that, the conversation finally drifted over to other topics like gem mines and dresses. It was clear they were talking in a way that you couldn’t contribute to the conversation but you’re not too sorry about that as you were not going to participate in the first place. Their plan to make you isolated in a conversation to make you feel bad is surprisingly mild. You’ve been expecting much worse.

“The tea is very fragrant. Recently my family imported jasmine tea so I hope the ladies enjoy this fresh taste.” To be honest the tea is pretty bland but everyone agrees and the marchioness looks pleased by the other's reaction. When you’re not saying anything they all look at you.

Since you feel pressured by their gazes you lift the cup to get another sip as you’ve not touched your tea all this time. You prefer coffee however, if you said that it would just be another thing to nitpick.

“Right, it’s delicious.” For some reason the ladies look impatient, they were sure this would work but you’re not reacting how they want you to. No matter how much backstabbing they are doing with their politely crafted insults you’re not budging.

It’s subtle but the lady on your right makes eye connect with the Duchess right before her hand slips and your dress is ruined by the dark liquid. She made it seem like an accident but there’s no way her hand would naturally slip like that – it was intentional.

It’s hot though. Your smile never falters after all this is a good opportunity to make your leave natural.

“Oh my, I’m so sorry my grip is feeble lately. I hope you forgive me.” You internally sigh at the bad acting; she’s even snickering under her nose behind that fan it’s clear what the intention was. She’s not really sorry she just needs an excuse to blame it all on you. If you get angry they will say you make a big deal out of a small mistake. They all saw it so there’s no way they don’t know it wasn’t an accident. There’s no point in proving or arguing.

“I see, maybe you should see a doctor about it it would be unfortunate if the lady gets sick. I will take my leave then I have to change my dress but I hope the ladies will enjoy the tea.” What you want to say is: – Eat shit all of you. You suppress a smirk as you take your leave it’s satisfying enough to see their angry faces since you dodged their attempts at bad-mouthing you. Many people witnessed the scene as you’re surrounded by noble ladies at each table – now they can’t spread false rumours as there are so many witnesses. If you got angry everyone would probably believe the twisted tales they told each other later but you managed to leave them with nothing.

This is pretty satisfying. Fufu.

Even if you’re drenched in tea Y/N is still pretty and eyes naturally follow you when you leave.

“Are you alright?” You’re surprised to meet Namjoon on your way back he holds up a handkerchief so you can clean your hands. You tried not to pay attention to him since earlier but you cannot ignore the fact that he’s been following you since this morning.

You didn’t think you could get away with rejecting the soon-to-be-blackened third male lead (as the second is your brother) but this is too much. What is Min Yoongi trying to do? Annoy you to death with his aid following you around unless you say yes or what?

“I’m not going to explain since you saw everything.” You narrow your eyes down on him but you accept the handkerchief nonetheless from his outstretched hands. Even as you start walking again he keeps following behind you.

“Do you want to say something Mr?” You stop abruptly if you have to listen to him anyway you will just listen to him now. You’re pretty tired from earlier you had to be on your best behaviour even though it was clear they were trying to provoke you.

“Ah, yes. I apologise but the Duke would like you to think about what happened last night and give him a positive answer.” You snort after hearing that – not too ladylike.

“You mean marry the duke?” Namjoon nods. “Ha, alright..” After a moment of followed silence,-“ I considered it again and I’m still saying no.” You turn around thinking that it was the end of it but Namjoon catches up with your steps in no time.

“Can I at least know the reason?” He asked timidly. Quite persistent, well he’s the only one who was with him till the end.

“Like I said I want love in a marriage. If the duke can’t love me then I can’t marry him.” This is good. If Namjoon tells him this he will probably give up now. You come up with such brilliant ideas today that you’re pleased with yourself. However – this was not the end.

Yoongi is riding a horse through the forest he already caught his prey so he’s not too interested in the scenery he’s already on his way back when his aid Namjoon appears.

“Did you tell her my message?” Namjoon bows in front of him as a greeting but looks nervous. He’s thinking about how could he tell the master that the lady rejected him again without a hint of hesitation in her voice. Reading his aid’s mind Yoongi’s brows furrow in distaste. She might be a lady with a significant house backing her but Yoongi thinks he’s not lacking anything as a husband candidate. He could give her money, real estate, jewellery, dresses everything she wanted so why did she reject him so confidently? The Duke of the North is getting a stack of marriage proposals daily that could fuel the fire in the fireplace all day long in his office so why did she reject him again?

“The lady told me to tell the duke she won’t marry you if you don’t love her. She wants a love marriage, not an arranged marriage.” Namjoon is carefully delivering her message to the duke who looks deep in thought after hearing that. Namjoon is also astonished by the fact that you don’t want to marry him. He has the wealth and authority which every woman is after. To think that she demeaned the duke to love her is insane.

He's afraid to see his master’s reaction. In all his years Yoongi never got interested in a woman before if anything it looked like he didn’t even see them. At Balls, he never danced no matter who asked or who tried to get close. The duke was never interested.

The duke didn’t answer but Namjoon thought that this was not the end of this. Yoongi seemed deep in his thoughts all the way back to the camp. The servants unloaded the bear he caught; a rare black bear that will probably ensure his win at the end of the hunting festival.

Back at his tent, he ordered a bunch of romance novels and while Namjoon found it a weird request he always did everything that his master ordered and then the research started.

He had once disinterested eyes but after your rejection he caught himself studying you whenever he could lay his eyes on you. His interest is rarely piqued but you keep showing him interesting things. The mystery of what you’re thinking in your head is driving him mad.

You softly hummed as you were getting ready for the award ceremony you’re in a good mood since you haven’t heard from Namjoon after that and when this is over you could go back to the mansion.

You only listened halfheartedly to the speech the king was giving as you already know who will become today’s winner. Or at least you thought so. In the original, the crown prince got first place with a deer but now everyone is celebrating Yoongi. He shines brightly his hair is perfectly styled and his dark uniform fits him perfectly he’s circled by nobles offering endless congratulations but he looks disinterested in them like always. He keeps looking over the faces when his eyes finally meet yours.

This is not how it was supposed to go. Whilst things deviated from the original little by little with your intervention this scene shouldn’t have changed. Yoongi didn’t have that many scenes within the novel as he usually showed disinterest in most things. You can’t imagine why he would win this competition when he hates bothersome things.

Oh. No, Why is he coming your way all of a sudden?

No one in the crowd expected him to stop right before you. No one actually believed he would accept the flower crown as Yoongi had never been involved with a woman before even if a lot of women desired him. But now he’s standing right in front of you handing you the flower crown. Your mouth would be hanging open by now if it hadn’t been for the large crowd that gathered around the two of you. Your father and brother who was standing next to you seem just as shocked as you are.

“What is the duke doing?” You try to push the crown away but Yoongi is relentless. If you won’t accept it gracefully he’s going to put it on your head with his own hands. This would be funny how he places the crown on you with a face that is devoid of any emotions.

“Are you going to reject me?” Hah! He knows well that you can’t. It’s tradition for the winner of the hunting competition to present the flower crown to the woman he wants to court or to a lover. With this Min Yoongi just announced to the world that he’s interested in you!

No matter what you say at this point the angry ladies whose eyes are stabbing you in the back with their intense gazes wouldn’t believe you in a million years that you’re not trying to covet their beloved duke. For a moment you wished you could be like him and read his thoughts for once.

You’re furious inside but you can’t show that. Even if you don’t like it you have to gracefully bow and accept his gift. Your eyes are a different story as you discreetly shoot arrows with your gaze. This means you have to attend the ball as his partner as well which is held on the last day. Originally you wouldn’t want to attend but now you’re obligated to.

Everyone’s attention was clearly on you and that made you sick.

You hurried away before anyone could ask you anything and you decided to rest at the family tent before you have to start getting ready for that bothersome ball. Who does he think he is? If you get entangled with the main leads no one can predict what will happen to you in the future. Normally you would be happy to be the centre of your favourite character’s attention but not when your life is on the line.

You can understand now when they say reading and experiencing something are two completely different things.

You’ve never thought that you would treat this way your favourite character to be honest you should be happy, even if he has an ulterior motive that is unknown to you for now, you’re the only woman he ever asked to marry and you actually thought about helping him somehow but the opportunity is too sudden. Also, what will you do if the story ends? If he lives and you live. You can’t live with him forever you know that this feeling and excitement and affection you have for him will fade away. You’ve always thought of him as a character you liked but he’s not in a book anymore; he’s right in front of your nose. There’s no way you can live in a loveless marriage for the rest of your life.

Can he even fall in love with you? Even at the last line he never looked at a woman. Maybe he falsely interpreted your words from before? Maybe he thought he had to show everyone he loves you like in a fake dating situation. Yes, if you talk to him he will definitely understand.

With a newfound determination, you left to look for him.

Namjoon doesn’t show outwardly that he’s surprised by your sudden visit but you could tell by the sudden hitch in his voice while greeting you.

“-Lady..” You ignore his greeting and go past him inside the inner tent. You’re perplexed for a moment when you see Yoongi’s shirtless back. He was in the middle of changing his clothes when you barged in but he doesn’t look fazed by it.

Namjoon hurriedly follows after you sweat is rolling down his temple as he apologises to his lord for letting you in. You’ve gone too far to back down now so you stand upright and cross your arms.

“Please, lady..” Namjoon struggles to try to get you out before his master unleashes his sword. He doesn’t like to be interrupted. You have no idea that Namjoon is fearing for your life but he actually admires you for your boldness not many can stand in front of his master without trembling in fear and you kept rejecting his marriage proposal. If anyone can be a match for his master it could be you.

“Go back I’ll handle it.” Yoongi dismisses Namjoon but he’s hesitant for a moment before he decides to leave the two of you alone. He has faith in his master that he won’t kill a noble.

During the flower crown ordeal you had so many things to say to him, curse him ask him why – so why is that you’re suddenly speechless in front of him? Yoongi drops the used shirt on the sofa. He can see anger in your eyes. He’s trying to figure out what you’re thinking.

He catches himself thinking that your reactions are quite amusing.

This is a first for him.

After you get over the initial shock of seeing his fit body you gather yourself to speak.

“Does the duke not care about my consent? The duke should know what it means to give out a flower crown. I don’t remember being the duke’s lover.” You’re fuming with both of your hands struggling in a fist.

Instead of replying the duke turned around and started looking for something on his messy desk. When he found it he approached you. Without realising you received it from him and when you looked at the book by the title alone you could tell it was a romance novel.

You can’t picture why the duke has that.

“You said you want love. I’m learning how to love you.” You’re rendered speechless by his words. He looks so serious that otherwise, you would think he’s joking.

“Do you want to marry me that badly?” You ask in disbelief. This doesn’t make any sense.

“Yes.”

He didn’t even hesitate and your heart felt weird because of it.

“Why?”

You’re quite close. Probably as close to him as anyone was ever before. His face doesn’t show anything but you can’t just accept his words. “Why are you willing to go to such lengths to marry me?”

You look deeply into his eyes. Yoongi realises you’re not scared of him. This is also a first. Everyone who knows about his achievements fears him. He’s the Duke of the North, a war demon who never lost a single battle. His hands reach out to touch your face and as he expected you don’t flinch away if anything it looks like your eyes sparkle in the dim lights. He sees fire in them.

“I can’t tell you the reason unless you marry me.” Only family members can know about his powers, he can’t go against traditions. You’re smart and witty and that answer doesn’t satisfy you at all.

Shouldn’t you know everything before you marry someone? – Most of all the reason why they want to marry you.

“What is the duke thinking about? I can’t tell.” You sigh disappointed by his answer but you perk up when he replies.

“That’s what I want to know too.” At that moment his thumb runs over your lower lip feeling with his fingers how you take in a huge breath of fresh air. Your eyes go wide as if you come to a conclusion but before he could ask you about it Namjoon appears again making the two of you break up.

Suddenly conscious of the intimacy of your bodies you step back and Yoongi’s hand falls from your face.

“I’m sorry to interrupt but the lady’s maid is here. The maid said that the lady should start getting ready.” Right. You forgot about the banquet. Knowing that you can’t delay any longer you decide to leave for now but it’s clear that the conversation is not over and Yoongi could feel it too.

“Alright. Please pick me up when I’m done preparing.” Yoongi nods and you leave just like that.

He looks down at the thumb that touched your lips he read this inside the book that could be good to seduce you but he needs more practice. Feeling up your lips was not unpleasant like he thought it would though. You keep surprising him and his chest is starting to feel weird whenever he sees you.

You need to stick to him during the ball this is your best strategy if you don’t want to be chewed out by hungry wolves. Now all of Yoongi’s fanclub is going for your throat so you need to be as close as possible to ward them off. Thinking about how everyone’s eyes will be on you tonight is giving you a headache.

The maid selected a beautiful deep purple dress for you to wear with the appropriate heels and accessories. Your hair is in an updo with some locks framing your face. In this period it takes too long to get ready but there’s nothing you can do about it.

Even if you go while looking pretty or not everyone will try to find fault in you. You can hear it in your head how they will whisper that you somehow bewitched the duke.

No one can be ready when you step into the ballroom while holding Yoongi’s arm your outfits ridiculously matching despite the short notice. Everyone is gossiping like you expected.

They don’t even try to be subtle about it.

The first to approach you is your father and brother and your fingers unconsciously tighten around the duke’s sleeve. The three men exchange pleasantries but your father doesn’t like beating around the bush for long before he asks what everyone is curious about.

“I had no idea the duke was interested in my daughter.” You virtually facepalm yourself when hearing that. That is like saying to my face that I’m no match for the duke. You were known to be notorious but this is getting ridiculous. He should be saying that the duke is not good enough for you!

“I fell in love with her at first sight.” Everyone is silently eavesdropping and it looks like their ears and mouths are reaching the floor by now. Your reaction is not too far behind as well. You were thinking: ‘Don’t tell me that he read this in one of his romance novels as well’.

Can you even avoid getting married to him at this point now? Unlikely as how everyone is so focused on your life at the moment. It feels like you become the century’s sensation with this.

“Haha. The duke is just joking.” You try to lighten the mood but you can’t really get Yoongi and your father out of that weird exchange of looks. If he wants them to believe this he should say it with some emotion damn it. You want to yell this into his face but you don’t of course.

“No, I intend on marrying the lady.” Now he has done it. But seeing your father’s shocked expression is funny. You don’t think there’s anyone in the ballroom who’s not left in shock after hearing that. Even a lady from the Duke’s fan club fainted hearing that.

After your father left many noble couples approached you inquiring about you two was the first thing everyone did but Yoongi didn’t say much regarding the matter besides what he told your father and you were not going to elaborate further so soon after the men talked about business and the wife asked you some general polite questions. Going around for so long soon your feet started to hurt and the dress felt uncomfortable to wear. All you wanted to do was go back to your room and get some rest.

“I’m not feeling too well so I think I’m going to leave.” As a last resort, you interrupt the men’s conversation to get Yoongi’s attention. You reached your limit and just thinking about what happened today makes you feel exhausted. After you got your nanny kicked out you thought that things would calm down for a while but it seems like you were mistaken.

Now you have to deal with an even bigger trouble and his name is Min Yoongi.

“What’s wrong?” Yoongi scans your body looking for the cause of your unwellness which is surprising. You didn’t think he would ask about what’s wrong with you. You expected him to let you go with some curtesy words and while his face is as impassive as ever he is looking only at you.

Thinking about that makes a small shade of pink being introduced to your face. Maybe you have a fever. Yes. That’s probably it.

Reluctant to say it in front of the noble couple you reach for him to whisper into his ears so no one else could hear you. “My feet hurt my heels are uncomfortable to wear.” Thinking that it’s enough to explain why you want to leave you turn around to actually go when the duke holds you by the waist sliding one of his hands under your legs to pick you up. You almost let out an unladylike shriek but you manage to hold it in at the last minute. Your hands circle his neck to find stability.

“What are you doing?” Dropping the honorifics in your panic you whisper yell at him to let you down. This is so embarrassing.

“I read it in a book if a lady tells you their feet hurt you need to carry them.” What kind of stupid book that is – you want to yell but you just lower your head so your eyes don’t meet with anyone as Yoongi carries you out.

Now you’re really not going to live this down. If some were skeptical now they are actually convinced that Yoongi is in love with you.

Can you even call this fake dating? He literally said he is going to make himself fall in love with you so you marry him!

You sit bonelessly on the sofa in Yoongi’s tent. He’s actually going to treat the wound on your feet as you try to grasp the situation. You feel exhausted now that you got to sit down.

If you think this through there’s no way you can claim it now that you have nothing to do with him. It might be your best bet to marry him. From your conversation earlier you keep thinking about what he said about wanting to know what you’re thinking. His sudden interest in you probably has something to do with his mind-reading powers. Could this be that he can’t read your thoughts? That could be possible.

He wouldn’t have asked otherwise so strangely and you keep thinking about being possessed in a novel and refer to him as your favourite character there’s no way he wouldn’t ask about it if he knew. Maybe…

Maybe he can’t read your thoughts because you’re not originally from this world? – Y/N’s family’s power is to block powers so that could be a good explanation as well. You can’t really ask for confirmation since you’re not supposed to know that he can read minds.

You don’t realise you kept staring at him while you were deep in your thoughts. You wince when he puts the ointment on your wound roughly your hand goes to hold his wrist to stop him.

“Be gentle it hurts.” You look at him with a frown but he actually listens as he becomes more careful with his touches. His hand is full of callouses and cuts probably from wielding his sword. Now that you remember it he was called a war monster in the novel. Most times when he was mentioned he was looped in with his war achievements or his lack of interest in women. It’s interesting to know these little things that his desk is messy and that he’s not as scary as everyone makes him out to be. He can be quite gentle.

“Thank you.” This time you’re sincere.

This is the calmest tone you’ve ever spoken to him now that you’ve realised. You tried to keep your distance as much as you could you were quite rude to him until now. You’re not going to apologise though your anger was justified he did get you into this mess without your consent.

The silence that fills the space is not uncomfortable for some reason.

“It’s just a small cut you will be fine.” His tone is like usual but his actions cannot be told to be.

“W-What are you doing?” His lips are touching your feet. A small warm kiss is planted on your foot as if he’s wishing for your pain to subside. The duke is a rational man – this is probably another scene from that damn novel but why is your heart beating so loudly in your ears? After kissing it his eyes directly meet yours as if he’s searching for something in the depths.

“Did your pain go away? I want to know if the book had the facts right. It doesn’t seem medically accurate.” You’re too dumbfounded to reply but after regaining your senses you pull your feet away and the duke finally gets up from his kneeling position.

“This is not about the pain! It’s to make the girl’s heart flutter!” You avoid his gaze looking to the right after your sudden exclamation. You can’t believe you really have to explain this to him.

“Then did your heart flutter?” This is a dangerous thought – but maybe – just maybe his little head tilt looked a little cute. What should you do? Lie? Tell the truth?

“Everyone would be flustered in that kind of situation.” You try to rationalise what you’re feeling right now is not attraction. It’s going to fade away – he’s just a character you liked in a book. No need to get worked up.

“So – are you going to ask me again or not?” Trying to hide your embarrassment you get to the point. You decided not to run away from him – at least for now. You can come up with a plan later and if it doesn’t work out then divorce is still a thing in this period too.

“Will you marry me now?” He looks surprised. While it’s hard to read his expression you can disamble some of his emotions if you look for it hard enough. After all, he’s not that mysterious Duke of the North – but you don’t think the readers would be disappointed finding this out.

He’s still charming.

“Alright. Let’s get married.”

You said that but you still have some concerns. The novel’s development is truly out of hand this time. It’s also concerning that you haven’t seen the main protagonists yet. Taehyung is absent from the hunting competition but the main couple should meet during the imperial ball.

However – everyone only talks about your marriage with the duke. You were not sure if it was safe to marry the duke but to be honest, this could work in your favour. Now you can’t be the villainess who falls in love with Taehyung at first sight since you will be a married woman. If you don’t interfere they will have no reason to execute you and your favourite character won’t kill you because for some reason he needs you alive – so this is not so bad. Your reputation is slowly but rising among the aristocrats who witnessed your behaviour as you haven’t caused much trouble. If you exclude the scandal with Min Yoongi but it wasn’t even your fault.

Your father didn’t say a word when you said you were going to ride with Yoongi back to the capital. Your brother was a different story – he did try to object but failed as your father dismissed him. You don’t delude yourself that things will be that easy. Whilst your father didn’t object outwardly now because of the public eye it doesn’t mean he can’t reject the proposal when it’s inside the mansion. Wouldn’t be so bad to get out of that house either as you have mostly bad memories from that place.

The duke delayed his trip back to the north until your marriage is settled so now you’re on your way to the capital. Even if you don’t hold a big wedding both families have to agree to the marriage and then give the marriage application to the royal palace for registration only then it could be a legal marriage. It will take some time until everything is sorted out but that’s fine since you need to meet with Jungkook. You need to tell him the news but he probably knows about it by now. Still, you can’t rest until the house of Summer is taken down or someone else takes over his place preferably a better duke than him because a war would not help you survive here either.

“Will you tell me now why we have to be married?” The journey back to the capital will be quite long you decide to get some information out of him if you have to share the carriage with him anyway. The swaying of the carriage makes you uneasy so it’s better to focus on something else.

“We’re not married yet.” No shit Sherlock. You hold back the reflex to roll your eyes. He would look at you like a crazy woman if he could read your thoughts so you’re almost 100% sure this is the reason he wants to marry you.

“If you tell me doesn’t that mean I cannot take back my word since I would know your secret, Duke Min?” Your persuasion might work at least he’s thinking about telling you now.

It’s silent inside there’s no other sound than the carriage rattling on the road and when you’re about to give up trying to persuade him to tell you the atmosphere around the duke changes.

He’s always serious but he looks even more so now.

“Our family’s power is to read the human mind.” You take some fake time to process this – you can’t give him the suspicion that you already know about his powers. So you keep quiet and appear to be thinking before you speak up. Now – this is something to start with:

“So—you read minds. What does that have to do with me? Perhaps, you can’t read my thoughts?” It doesn’t seem like he suspects you he probably thinks you have good intuition. Hopefully.

“I can’t. But that’s not all.” Now you’re actually curious. You stay in your seat anticipating his answer when he instead touches your cheek again. This is not the time to recite some romance novel bullshit. “If I touch you like this I can’t read anyone's thoughts.”

This is crazy. Not just you – but no one. Do you really have some kind of power that you’re unaware of? Even if your family’s power is to deflect other powers that wouldn’t answer why touching you blocks out everything. In theory, it should only work on you.

“You really can’t hear anything?” You’re a bit excited this is new. You carelessly grab his hand that’s holding your cheek startling Yoongi in the process. Thanks to the bumpy road you lose your balance and land right on your companion’s lap. He grabbed you without thinking holding you by the waist both of your legs hanging off to the side your face excruciatingly close to his.

“Sorry, I lost my footing.” You try to get up but the road is really not letting you off the hook. If anything Yoongi has to pull you closer to not fall over with you in tow.

“Were your eyes always this pretty?” One hand goes to put some hair behind your ears. W-What is he saying now? You’re confused for only a moment before you realise. Romance novel.

After this trip is over you really want to know what kind of trashy romance novel he was reading as a reference and you would appreciate it if he did not try all of it out on you in such unexpected situations.

“I can’t believe the duke really said that with a straight face. If you want my heart to flutter you have to do better than that.” You were half joking and half serious but he doesn’t have to know that.

“Like what?” You didn’t expect him to ask but he found you in a playful mood. Since he wants to become your lover you’re going to prank him. After that, he will think twice before reciting such cheesy lines.

“A kiss probably.” You try to smile seductively with just the corners of your lips tilting upwards but that smile soon remains frozen on your face as warm chapped lips meet with yours.

It’s a kiss. The duke is actually kissing you.

It’s awkward your lips are touching but there’s nothing else. To think the duke doesn’t know how to kiss is funny.

You’re the first to pull back as you can’t keep back your laughter anymore. “I guess there’s one thing the duke is not good at.”

His face is as serious as ever but if you look closely he kinda looks offended by your statement. His hand tightens around you it looks like he has a competitive side to him as well. You keep learning new things about the duke.

It’s probably an impulse to prove you wrong but he pulls you back by holding the back of your head in place. It’s not just a peck now it’s transforming into a real kiss as he moves his lips over yours. It’s clumsy but somewhat charming. His tongue comes out unexpectedly but you’re not gonna stop now – you open your mouth to welcome his tongue and intertwine it with yours. It’s messy but it does make your heart flutter.

His breath on your face, his fingers in your hair you’re hyperaware of every little body part that touches his.

Before you get entirely lost in the sensation you pull back, stopping the kiss before it could devour you. You’re not the only one breathing hard the duke is panting as well. His hand is still around your head and his touch is especially gentle.

This weirdly romantic moment is interrupted by the trusted aid Namjoon yet again. It seems like he comes always at the worst moments.

The ride back home felt a lot shorter with Yoongi than when you were on your way to the hunting festival with your family. You feel shy. You get off Yoongi’s lap before the carriage door opens and someone sees you in a compromising position. The nation is shocked enough as it is.

“Maybe my heart did flutter a bit.” The words are quietly uttered but you’re sure the wind carried it away enough for the duke to hear it however, before he could register the hidden meaning behind your words then the carriage door opens and you accept Namjoon’s hand to get off first.

You’re too shy to watch his reaction or afraid to find the lack of it. Only Namjoon can see the rare sigh of his master looking somewhat flushed but he dismisses it, after all, the weather is quite hot here in the capital. He could be just feeling hot due to the long journey. The clothes they bought are not suitable for this warm weather but neither of them complained as this will be a mere visit so there’s no need to buy new clothes that would never be worn again after leaving for the north again.

The schedule suffered a setback as the duke suddenly proposed marriage and until everything was settled the departure was delayed. Yoongi offers you his arm to hold onto and you after a moment of thinking intertwine your arms going in the direction of your father’s office. You spotted the family carriage so they arrived by the time you got off. It’s not farfetched to think they expected your visit as both your father and brother seem to be waiting for the two of you. They are not visibly displeased but deep in their thoughts.

Your brother’s eyes automatically go to your joined hands wearing an uncomfortable expression. Of course, they wouldn’t want to let you go so soon. A part of you like to think selfishly and blame them. A thought enters your mind: they probably want to keep you here since you started to be useful lately. On the other hand, your calmer mind thinks more about the truth that they feel ashamed of their behaviour. If you leave them so early there’s no way they could amend their wrongdoings. Your brother feels guilty after everything that happened and there’s a hint of overprotectiveness in him as well as your brother. Even if you know all this you have no reason to provide them with forgiveness. A person needs to take responsibility for their actions.

You were not planning to leave this early but you decided to accept his proposal now that you know his secret they wouldn’t let you live if you suddenly tried to escape or go back on your word.

Even if you decided not too long ago to go through with it you’re shaking with nerves. You tried to make yourself feel better that you could divorce him once everything is over but now knowing the truth there’s no way you could cut ties so easily. While worrying won’t solve anything you’re still anxious. This is the best you can do for now since being his wife and him needing you means that he won’t kill you even if someone orders it. The plot has already changed but there’s no guarantee that the story won’t try to change back to its original.

Whilst your father looked reluctant to agree to this marriage he didn’t try to stop you surprisingly. He asked you if that’s what you want and when you answered with a yes he relented.

Your brother was a different matter – he kept glaring at Yoongi throughout the entire ordeal. Fortunately, Yoongi did not pay much attention to his animosity as they politely spoke about the preparations that needed to be done. There won’t be a big wedding that you are thankful for. You’re already the talk of the town there’s no need for more publicity.

In the last couple of days, everything seems to settle one by one quietly. The palace agreed to the marriage without objections however they set a condition which you were not expecting. The king wants to throw a ball before you head over to the north in honour of your marriage but you feel like there’s an ulterior motive behind this. Even if you suspect it you have no room to refuse the king so you and Yoongi agree to attend.

Leaving the house undetected in the meantime becomes quite challenging as the wedding preparations were reduced to be completed in two weeks you were moving in a tight schedule, dress fitting, and writing all the invitations you did not have much time on your hands to sleep not to tell about you private matters that you wanted to take care of before you permanently head to the north. The house staff also seemed busy with the preparations. A room was prepared for Yoongi and his men to stay in the house you couldn’t just let your future husband sleep in an inn whether your family liked him staying or not, there are enough rumours surrounding the two of you as is.

The preparations were not the only obstacle standing in your way sneaking out but the duke decided to follow you almost everywhere. While writing the invitations he used your office as his attending to his paperwork constantly being near you even if you were doing other things in the same room and when you asked why he had to work in your room he just answered with:

“Spending time together is a sign of affection.” He looks up from his stack of papers. That damn romance novel again.

“Have you heard of the line that ‘distance makes the heart grow fonder’ you should try it sometime.” You shake your head, murmuring it under your nose that he’s unable to hear you but when he looks at you questioningly you decide not to dare and repeat it.

One of these days you were feeling tempted to find that book and burn it so he cannot use it again as a reference. But you have to think about this, in worst case scenario he finds an even more romance infused book with ridiculous lines and plots to recreate. It’s not like you could learn romance through a book but you need to give credit where it’s due as he puts real effort into it at least. Looking at his unique circumstances as a child and as an adult you could see why he would want to learn romance from a book in a practical way. He was never showered with parental love and he had no means of growing fond of people too as he could hear their thoughts. He had no reason to. The means are clumsy but he’s trying hard to fall in love with you and making you fall for him as he put it. You never had a boyfriend who took dating this seriously before. It’s not that everything he does annoy you. You started to grow fond of the romancing lines that he recited with an indifferent face.

He's always honest which makes him a bit unapproachable at first but after spending time with him his honesty while it’s blunt he’s not saying anything out of malice. He’s just too sincere. It’s refreshing as you don’t have to look for underlying meaning. If you ask him something he answers without hesitation it’s good since you don’t have any misunderstandings. When you asked why he wanted you to fall in love with him he simply answered that ‘it means you won’t leave me’. You were so surprised that you started laughing his honesty was so absurd. It was kind of cute.

It took a considerable amount of time and scheming for you to finally be able to meet with the information guild in secret. Jungkook expected you to come by one of these days so he was not too surprised to see you. It felt like greeting an old friend he even teased you about suddenly getting married while having some good tea as company. Now that you both earned each other’s thrust you told him everything he needs to be wary of while operating secretly. Your purpose is to stop the war from happening and you need help to bring down the Duke of Summer but you need to be extra careful with your steps not to seem suspicious. You part ways with a wedding gift as Jungkook called it in your pockets. It’s a communication sphere that you could easily carry with you. It was a short meeting but you couldn’t help it as you had to go back to the wedding preparations.

You’re getting the jitters as you lay on your bed. Tomorrow is the d-day. You’re actually thankful for your brother for once. His purpose was probably just to separate you but that meant you had all day to yourself to get your thoughts in order before the grand wedding without Yoongi looming over your shoulders. It seemed at the last minute you had different opinions on small weddings as you had to send out tons of invitations. The maids made sure everything was perfect for the big day – this is the busiest and most carefree atmosphere this place ever got. It would have been a lot easier if you didn’t need to walk on eggshells all this time. Dodging the servant's rude comments and their ignorant behaviour they all changed when the masters started to change.

You’re only sorrowful that the real Y/N couldn’t experience this. The misunderstanding has been cleared but she’s nowhere to be found. Will she ever come back or you’re stuck as her forever? Time can only tell how things will work out in the end. But one thing is certain you’re not going to give up and you will live through this ending.

Yoongi is even more handsome when formally dressed he doesn’t look nervous unlike you. You join hands at the altar and the priest tells you your wows. The exchange ends like a blur with a light kiss on your lips. The rings on your fingers glisten in the bright light.

You’re pronounced as husband and wife. You’ve married your favourite character. This is crazy but this man in front of you is now your husband. You bit all ten of your nails by the time you’re done preparing for the wedding night. You were bathed very throughoutly and put in a nice nightgown that you haven’t seen before in your life.

Yoongi is already sitting at the edge of the bed when you enter the bedroom and he looks relaxed after his bath.

You later learn that he’s only relaxed because he has no idea what you should be doing on a wedding night.

You were aware of his unfortunate childhood and that the previous duchess and duke were not on the best terms with each other if you could call people who never met each other after getting married even ‘be in a relationship’ and now you’re convinced that their wedding night might have been the start of their miserable life.

Once the head of house Min gets engaged they get a script of how to produce an heir Yoongi explained but seeing the document yourself you feel sorry for the previous duchesses’ they had to endure a loveless marriage and probably a painful first time where their opinions were not even considered.

Sticking it in is not how a married couple should have sex. You don’t know who wrote this but this person clearly never had good sex. It’s weird to hold this piece of paper in your hand but since your marriage with Yoongi is not an ordinary one you learned that he got this paper this morning urgently to read before the ceremony. Even Namjoon were unaware of the contents as he was only the messenger. Arranged marriage is how house Min kept their bloodline going by getting sold daughters living miserable lives. You don’t want to be one of them. Thankfully you have an advantage that the previous duchess did not have; a power that could contain their madness.

You’re sure Yoongi will never try to hurt you if he wants you to be with him and provide him with blissful silence.

“If you try to do what this text says I’ll definitely never forgive you.” You toss the paper to the side after tearing it apart.

Yoongi’s in luck since he married a modern woman. You know enough about sex for the both of you to get a pleasant experience and you don’t think topping it would be much of a feat after reading what the previous heads were doing to their woman. No wonder without knowing or receiving love it would be hard to know about these things. The wives were too consumed by hate because of everything that had happened to them and the dukes had no idea how to love their wives at the brink of their madness. That is truly tragic.

You don’t believe however that Yoongi is not capable of feelings.

Even after spending this short time with him, you could see his character changing and you’re not only speaking about his determination to learn romance through those trashy romance novels. He actually listens, laughs and feels jealous. He used to be pretending to get close to you but you don’t think he did that kiss just to play out a scene. He does things impulsively too.

Initially, his interest was the only thing that fueled him to get closer and keep you by any means.

“What am I supposed to do then?”

This is crazy. Are you really allowed to corrupt your favourite character? Duh, you’re his wife now. The little you in your head reminds you. Y/N is you now even if you tried to deny it so many times this is your reality. You need to stop thinking that the life you’re living is someone else’s and you need to forget that these are characters in a novel.

You’re living in this novel now and this is your reality.

“You should kiss me.” A switch just flipped inside your brain. Just like in the carriage, you straddle Yoongi and his hands grip you through the small gown you wear that doesn’t conceal anything. It’s so thin he could feel your warmth. Yoongi sees your overall aura change, you suddenly look possessed. It stirs something in him seeing you riled up.

The consequences be damned you’re going to enjoy your wedding night with your favourite character.

– The war, the family struggle, the main characters that you haven’t met yet all of that can wait one more night at least. –

Yoongi kisses your lips gripping your bare thighs always listening so well. His tongue messily enters between your lips and you follow along with his rhythm the lack of his experience makes your job easier to dominate the kiss. Push and pull until both of you pant like dogs into each other’s open mouths. The blood from his head rushes to his lower regions. Unaware that he’s getting very aroused by your actions but you could feel the outline of his cock through your thin clothes. He might not know what to call what you do to him but he surely knows how that makes him feel.

That piece of paper definitely didn’t prepare him for you.

Your lips on his neck and your wandering hands are overwhelming him but he doesn’t dare to push you away, no, it feels too good to do that. You not only give him peace of mind without knowing what everyone thinks around him but show him new sensations and make him feel in a certain way. Feel loved. Even the slight pain that he feels as you mark him up is a pleasurable experience for him. Only after you get rid of his clothes that he sees his own cock fully hard. Your hand and mouth are already around it.

Sounds keep escaping his lips embarrassing whines and moans as your hot lips curve around his cock.

It’s warm wet and tight inside that Yoongi’s back arches off the bed shooting his load soon into your awaiting mouth seeing the signs of his orgasm. He cums embarrassingly fast. He doesn’t know what to do to contain this fire licking its way up inside his veins he follows your directions kissing you all over mimicking you hoping that it will feel good for you too, flipping you over as he hovers over your body kissing every inch of your skin making you moan as your fingers card through his messy hair. You hold his face close to your chest his lips kissing over your breasts and nipples. He reaches your pussy with your guidance his tongue first darts out to get a taste. Yoongi can feel his heart beat like crazy you’re wet and glistening for him. He keeps licking and flicking the tip of his tongue over your puffy bud loving how you say his name when he does something you especially like.

His lips are coated in your essence love how messy he gets with his licks. No matter what he does you keep shaking under him sighing his name. Your husband keeps your legs apart deflowering you sinfully with his tongue insistently rolling over and over your sensitive clit until you cum with a cry of his name. You pull him up for a heated kiss catching your breath but your hand impatiently aligns his cock with your wet opening.

Attempting to describe the feeling of how your warm walls hug him is futile but you can guess how good it feels for him when you see his eyes tightly shut and his mouth hanging open in a silent moan. His hips move on their own after you show him the way the initial discomfort after being stretched soon ebbed into a dull ache replaced with pleasure after some perfectly angled thrust on his part. He gets cockier and more confident with his movements as you moan louder when he finds a good spot he’s getting addicted to the feeling when you tighten around him.

He could do this all night with you. With your legs tightly wrapped around his torso or your leg on his shoulder hitting deeper in every position and angle your pussy feels tighter and wetter that he feels his orgasm build rapidly again. He keeps pushing inside you and pulling back until just the tip remains not caring if the bed shakes under you the wet squelch that your sexes make and the creaking of the bed is the song that you listen to all night long.

You lost count of how many times he finishes inside of you his cum dripping down your thighs when his passion finally subsides. The aftermath hits you hard feeling sore all over but utterly satisfied.

After sharing this heated night with your favourite you feel like you could accomplish anything in this life.

Novel. Or real life.

Yoongi got to experience many firsts with you. For the first time in his life, he desperately wants to cling to someone. Be loved and love in return. He welcomes your lazy kisses with his arms strongly holding you to his body. “If I can love, I promise to only love you.”

There’s nothing more you could ask for. Your smile reaches ear to ear and whilst Yoongi needs to learn a lot of things you’re ready to tackle this life with him and hopefully reach your happy ending.

#yoongi fanfiction #bts fanfiction #yoongi smut #bts fanfic #bts #bts fic #bts fluff #bts x reader #yoongi fanfic #btsghostie #yoongi fic #yoongi x reader #bts imagine #yoongi x you #bts reincarnation au #bts au #bts non idol au #bts fantasy au #kpop fanfiction

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tadpolesonalgae · 8 months ago

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On The Wrong Side of History: The Queen of Hybern

Azriel x Hybernian!Reader

synopsis: Reader is one of Hybern’s generals, fighting for her freedom after Prythian turned her back. Born with no magic, she was forced to cultivate a different kind of power, one that could prove deadly to the inhabitants of magic-blooded fae of Prythian. But when she’s captured and thrown into the scarred hands of the Spy-master, which side of history will prevail? Will Hybern’s story be told, or will it be covered up and concealed before the suffering of her people ever makes it to the light.

warnings: miscarriage at the end, war, general suffering and grimness, slight torture(?)

a/n: I had this idea yesterday and wanted to write something so fair warning it’s a little rushed! It also lightly brushes over miscarriage which might be a delicate subject for some so please take care of yourselves 🧡💛

word count: 3,810

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The war is coming, and not a single inhabitant of Hybern will stand by and let the chance for freedom pass. It’s been five-hundred years since you were confined to that island, cut-off from the mainland and left to rot and starve. Now is the time to reclaim the ground you were deprived of. War is coming, and she is starving for revenge. Starving like your people have for centuries, and nothing will stand between you and fighting for your right to life. Not even the baby you know is growing inside of you.

The air is fresh and damp, and you take the time to inhale its freshness before hot blood is spilled, turning the ground to a mushy, fleshy soup. The day is overcast, heavy grey clouds that look like the mould on bread swelling in the sky, ready to start leaking, dripping down into the open fields. Grass stomped into a muddy mush as feet frantically fight for ground, desperate to keep steady before they’re trodden down into the dirt, trampled and crushed beneath the weight of an army.

If you fall, you cannot rise. Not with a writhing mass of violence crowding the land, oozing bloodlust so thick it won’t matter which army you fight for. A body shouldn’t rise from the mud, any attempts to would be met with steel slicing down in a frantic jolt.

You turn from the entrance of your tent, making for the bed, moving slowly, peacefully, to the protective coatings you’ll be wearing in a couple of hours. The leather that will stick and slide over your skin, wet with blood and sweat, hopefully some rain, too. Heat gathers quickly in the midst of battle, and between the stink of gore and the sweltering sweat that greases any soldier’s grip, rain and wind are much appreciated for their gentle touches.

Your nose twitches as a breeze passes through the camp, quiet in the early hours of misty, grey dawn. Even beneath the cover of your tent, the smell of the battlefield can reach you—damp and bloody, contaminating the fresh air you’d been treating yourself to.

Something shifts inside of you, and you glance down at yourself, hesitantly raising your palm to your lower stomach. You only found out about your condition mere weeks ago, but even had you only found out this morning, you would still be here, preparing for your freedom.

The baby won’t survive, anyway. Not with what your body has turned into.

————

“You’re ready for today?”

A wry smile curves your lips, settling deeper into the chair that’s been set to one side of his room, the large bed in the centre already made despite him having risen as recently as yourself. Neither of you have ever particularly been ones for sleeping in, having so much to do at all times of day. “I’ve been ready for the past five hundred years,” you answer, leaning your chin on the heel of your palm.

The King of Hybern reflects your smile—the slightest twist of his lips. “Perhaps I made a mistake sending Amarantha to seize control of Prythian,” he muses, slipping the shirt over his head, pulling his dark, shoulder-length hair free of the collar once it’s on, making to tighten the laces that can be used to close the V of the hem. A note of dissatisfaction slides beneath your skin as his amulet is obscured—a hollow iron circle, his crest welded from the dark metal inset to its centre.

“Perhaps,” you agree lightly, watching as his fingers tighten the ties of his trousers, noting the distinct lack of armour—he’ll be watching over the Cauldron today. “Though in that case she might still be alive,” you murmur quietly, a little smile dancing in your eyes.

“You disgrace her,” he chuckles lowly, pulling the thick coat from his bed, leather on its exterior to keep out the bite of wind or the lick of rain, while lined with a warm fleece. “You trained beside her for a good portion of your life, at least honour her memory.” The King of Hybern shucks on the coat, the hem of leather coming down past his knees, and he adjusts the cuffs before making for the large, wooden chest at the foot of his bed.

“There was little to honour,” you counter, straightening in the chair as you watch him decide on which daggers to hide beneath the coat. “She was brash and brazen at the best of times, too quick to grow comfortable on her throne. And I never liked her bedside manner. She was always too grabby and rough for my liking.”

“She was ambitious,” he counters, strapping a small blade to the interior of the coat, hidden away in a pocket on his left side. He pauses, briefly considering something, then glancing over you, how you’re lazily sprawled across his chair, “though her nails could have been a bit shorter. They were an unpleasant surprise, at times.”

Your lips curve at one corner, sharing a look with him, before he returns to selecting his daggers, settling on one with a jagged, serrated edge, a wicked hook to its tip.

It’s then he turns, blades concealed beneath his coat and he silently walks to you, charcoal eyes glittering as you sit straighter. “How long have you been serving me now?” He asks, pausing at your side, so you have to incline your chin to look at him, baring your throat. “Five centuries? Six?”

“Six and a half,” you reply, “if you’re counting foot soldier duties as serving.”

He smiles a strange smile, glittering teeth showing briefly beneath familiar lips. “Loyalties are rewarded,” he says cryptically, his palm settling beneath your jaw, inclining your chin—it would be easy for him to snap your neck with the slightest snap of his hands. “Have you thought about what you want?”

“It seems greedy to ask for something before I’ve even succeeded at winning this war,” you reply.

“Consider it a show of assurance,” he remarks, “I have no doubt you’ll prove instrumental to Prythian’s ruin. Now, what would you like, upon your victory?”

Your eyes gleam with hunger, and you wonder if it’s at all possible he might not already know what you desire, more than anything. And looking at the way those charcoal eyes of his are gleaming, as if goading you on, urging the words to spill like honey from your velvety tongue—you feel it’s impossible. He knows what your request will be. And he’s practically dragging the desire from your throat, with the grip he has on it.

“Make me your queen.”

———

Darkness pounds at your mind, eyes aching as if the blood vessels are bursting, hot pressure building, ready to splash out through your pupils. The air is cool…cold, skin hypersensitive to the slightest shift in temperature, telling you there’s a layer of sweat over your exterior, alerting you to each swish of air.

Your thigh stings, the laceration taking its time to heal, longer than others of your kind would. The small cuts you’d been given the day before—a few inches long—have scabbed over, no longer in danger of leaking blood, but there’s going to be a definite pucker around each cut. A shiver traces up your spine, an involuntary shudder passing through your lungs as coldness sweeps across your skin, like a winter’s breeze.

Slowly, keeping your breathing as even as possible, you crack an eye open, only to be met with darkness. Hesitantly, the other slides open, and you peek at your surroundings but the dark seems impenetrable, thick and absolutely solid. Your nostrils flare, and the faint smell of ammonia and iron waft up along with the sharp tang you associate with stomach acid, the air itself thick and damp, slightly humid. Fertile and rife, perfect for things to start growing.

Casting your gaze downward, you can spot the stitching that’s covering the split in your right thigh, jaggedly stitched up, and from the looks of it you’re quite glad you weren’t conscious for it. You also notice the grime that’s already begun settling on you, dirt and mud and gore still layering your skin, save for the small perimeter that’s been cleaned around your thigh. The thought of how you must smell is a grim one.

“You’re awake,” a voice observes from the darkness, making your ears twitch.

You keep your mouth tightly sealed, waiting to hear what the observer has to say. Let them speak their part first, before you start making your own moves. Already you can tell this one is different from the previous ones—yesterday’s one had a lighter voice, squeaky and dragging. This one sounds like the first roll of thunder before a storm breaks.

“You’ll forgive me for the haphazard stitching. Healers are needed elsewhere.”

So this one’s to blame for the child’s-quilt on your thigh. It’s more than likely it was done intentionally carelessly, rather than simply poorly—poor stitching could lead to further infection, while careless stitching just might leave a trace of a scar. On a regularly healing body, at least.

Straightening in your chair, you try to pick out where the voice is coming from, but the darkness is so thick, and your eyes have barely had a chance to adjust, and with the faelight bobbing above your head there’s little chance they will anytime soon. Keeping them shut would be the quickest way, but it would be leaving yourself open. More open than you already are, that is, with your arms bound at your back. They haven’t bothered to shackle you to the chair itself today, the ties from yesterday are gone, and you can feel the weight of the stone around your wrists: Gorsian shackles—utterly useless on you.

“What do you want today?” You ask into the darkness, stretching your fingers to keep them awake and ready. It’s already been at least three days, and you suspect whoever has come to visit today isn’t just any old torturer. You can tell from the silence they keep, how undetectable they are despite your honed senses, sharper than most’s. They had to be, for you to survive.

“The same thing anyone might want from a prisoner of war,” the voice replies, ghosting through the room, bouncing about in the darkness so it’s impossible to tell its root. “And what is that?” You ask, following the script, familiar with the direction of the conversation—unaccustomed, however, to be on this side of it. “Information,” the voice replies, and there’s less than a second of detectable presence before your hair is wrapped around a fist and dragged back, your throat exposed as you’re positioned over the back of the chair, making it impossible to swallow. The faelight glares down at you, beaming into your adjusted eyes, and you’re forced to squint as your vision blurs from the sting of the light and the grip on your scalp. Cool steel settles just below your jaw, the tip of a blade spiking into the soft flesh just beneath the hollow of your mouth.

Your teeth grit together, hissing sharply at the roughness of the touch, thigh aching from the tension that shot through your body. A laugh forces its way from your chest, ragged and strained as you peer up into the faelight, pupils tightening to slits in the face of the brightness, “give me something in return. I can’t very well go back empty handed, can I?”

Your captor roughly tugs on your hair, your lip twitching a little from the pain but otherwise unruffled. “You might go back with no hands at all, unless you’re careful.”

“Threats already? You haven’t even told me what you’re after,” you bite out, voice heavy and grim.

A beat passes between you, then the steel is flipped away between deft fingers, removed from your throat in favour of pressing to your sternum—a warning before the cuts begin, gradually skinning you alive until they get what they want. Fury simmers quietly inside of you, but you keep it tucked away. That’ll only come in useful once the pain starts setting in. A fuel to fall back on when food would become a problem. But it’s high time you return to your king. You’ve spent long enough here, all because of a stupid, foolish…

“Would you like to hear something interesting, then? In the name of compromise?” The voice asks, low and rasping, and you sit silently, waiting for what they have to say.

“The one who visited you yesterday, the day before that, and the day before that…each one refused to come back the next day. Insisted there was something wrong with you.” The hand tightens on your hair then releases, the presence vanishing like a flame snuffed out, leaving your skin tingling with awareness. “Once is by chance, twice is a coincidence, but three…three’s a pattern.”

Something hisses past your ear, and you jerk in your seat, not foolish enough to stand. You glare into the darkness, peering deep from beneath your lowered brows, lips turned down in the corners as you try to pick out even the faintest shadow, but they all blend together so seamlessly, like one giant, blank wall. Not a single shape to be found.

Something whispers to your left, then cracks to your right, your pulse beginning to pick up involuntarily form the confusing stimulus, attention split between both directions.

A figure steps into the grey shift in light, silent and menacing as it prowls forward, one military-grade boot in front of the other, and you take in the towering silhouette, the great wings looming in deeper shadow. Your eyes follow the light as it glides up his frame, revealing long legs clad in Illyrian leathers, scarred hands within easy reach of visible weapons, a lean waist and broad chest, the Night Court insignia clear over his heart. Cold, cutting hazel eyes, with a glint you recognise. After having spent so many centuries gazing into eyes like that, it would be strange to not be able to place the intense glint of honed reproach, the look that desires utter eradication of the thing that’s causing suffering.

Calm and deadly, he is your exterminator.

“We’ll start with an easy question,” he says, gaze unfaltering as he meets your own.

“What is it that makes all kinds of magic recoil from you, General?”

A slow smile breaks across your lips, delicately curving in a mocking grin. You should have known this would be his question, that they would have figured something was wrong with you by now—the slowed healing, the way their magic leans back from you, as if trying to scuttle away.

“And you?” You ask, a gleam in your eye. “What’s your title?”

His mask doesn’t shift, not even the slightest hint of emotion in his dark eyes. Just silence. Patient, grating, silence.

“Not even the name of my captor?” You push, smile slipping away, settling back into a wall of ice to match his own—you can play that game, too. “Or are you nobody? You don’t seem like you’re nobody, though.” You angle your chin, shifting in the chair slightly, re-flexing your fingers, testing the gorsian shackles. “You’re clearly important, if you were sent in to investigate after three turned away, and considering the insignia you’re wearing, with those wings…master torturer of the Night Court?”

He inclines his head, “Spymaster. Shadowsinger.”

“And how do your shadows like me, Spymaster?” You murmur, able to guess the answer.

His dark eyes narrow on you almost imperceptibly, then his right hand is wrapping around the hilt of one of his blades, inset with strange markings, as dark as obsidian. The hairs on the nape of your neck rise as he thumbs the blade free, a sharp glint in his eye being the last thing you see of him before he steps away into shadow, falling seamlessly back into the darkness.

“How long had you planned to let this war go on for?” He rasps from the darkness, the question bounding in and out, coming from different sides that make it impossible to track his position. All while he’s free to observe from the shadow. “You ask that like we have control over the nature of war,” you reply neutrally, keeping your gaze sharp, but all it looks the same. If you could find a way to put the faelight out, or to lure him to stand before you… Getting some information first would be preferable, though.

“But maybe we had an idea.”

The sound of steel slicing through air comes from your right, and you instinctively follow the familiar hiss of a blade, body tensing, as if expecting it to come flying out from the darkness.

“You’d have to be confident in a victory to have a timeframe in mind.” His rasp echoes throughout the room you’re kept in, whispering in varying volumes as it’s bounced off shadow. “We’ve had a long time to prepare,” you reply vaguely, features remaining blank, despite being unable to so much as feel the weight of his attention. If it wasn’t for the fact you’d seen him, and were having a conversation, you wound’t believe he was in here with you. You hate to admit it, but it’s impressive.

“And I suppose you believed you’d win?” He questions.

“I know we’ll win. Whether I’m in here or not.”

The steel tip of a blade grazes the top of your back, slowly tracing the length of your shoulders, occasionally pressing deep enough to disrupt the skin, but mostly remaining as a taunting reminder—he could choose to cut you at any moment, as deeply or as slowly as he pleases. “What made you believe that? Numbers? Experience? Speeches?”

“We have the cauldron,” you reply, keeping apprehension clear from your voice, the tip of the blade pressing a little too deeply into the back of your left shoulder. “What was it like, by the way? Seeing your soldiers wiped from existence in the blink of an eye?” The blade bites into your skin, probably pushed in to about an inch of flesh, and you grit your teeth as he twists the steel, opening the wound up. “I’m fairly certain we targeted your aerial armies on the first day,” you grit out, remembering the wings at his back. “I’m guessing you knew some of that scum?”

The blade retracts calmly, but he makes no further incisions, walking back around to stand in front of you. He’s strangely under control, considering how badly the war will be going for his side.

“Why are you so repulsive to fae magic?” He repeats. Unruffled by the comment. Good. “Why don’t you come closer and figure it out yourself?” You reply, noting the living shadows that are gliding down from his shoulders. “See if your shadows can answer that question.”

He regards you silently, then slides the blade back into its home at his hip, walking forward until he crowds your space, scarred fingers biting brutally into your cheeks, squeezing as he leans down. “I don’t think I need an answer. Not anymore.” You keep your mouth shut, confused by what he’s saying. “You see, despite your certainty, you were proved wrong. Two days ago. I would like to know what it is about you that makes magic react the way it does, but at the end of the day, it’s ultimately of no importance.”

You glare up at him, muscles tense from the grip he has on your cheeks, squeezing your jaw.

“You lost the war,” he says, quietly. “Your king was decapitated by one of the humans he used as a test subject. Felled by his own creation.”

There’s no falsity in his gaze, just ugly, unforgiving, truth.

And he’s in reach.

You twist your wrists in a snappy movement, harsh enough the already weakened gorsian stone crumbles away, allowing you to launch from the chair, hand seamlessly wrapping around the hilt of his blade, sliding it free with the familiar sing of steel.

He’s caught off guard—it’s impossible to break out of those shackles—his moments of surprise allowing you to use his weight against him, pushing into the frame of muscle in the places you’re familiar with, tripping him up. His wings thrash as they’re caught beneath him, shadows vanishing at your proximity, shoved away to some godsforsaken pocket as you aim the blade for his throat, his own scarred hands wrapping around your wrists to loosen your hold. But fae are made of magic, their very strength dependant on it. Encountering a creature that nullifies any and all types…his muscles tremble beneath you, shaking with the force of keeping you from plunging the blade into his throat.

“I’ll kill you, and your High Lord,” you hiss, leveraging your own weight, so the blade sinks down toward the bare, unprotected part of flesh. “I’ll end every single one of you, and I’ll save that abomination for last,” you snarl, in regard to the human who he’d told you decapitated your king.

His strength is draining swiftly, and he knows you can sense it, can feel the tremble in his muscles, and the steel inches closer, spurred on by his weakness.

The Spymaster grits his teeth as he shifts suddenly beneath you, allowing you to gain precious inches so the steel scratches the swell in his male throat, but in turn allowing him to raise his leg from the ground, stomping his boot into your stomach, sending you flying back, crashing into the chair you’d been sat on, the faelight flickering above.

Your lips part, eyes going wide as nausea rises up swiftly, having only seconds before you’re vomiting onto the floor, heaving up chewed food and saliva, a dizzying feeling sweeping through your entire body.

You’re flipped over not even a second after you get the first clear breath down, the Spymaster over you, dark eyes cold as ice as the steel of that blade glints in the unnaturally pale faelight. The blade hisses down, aimed to slice up beneath your ribs, cutting into your heart, but his eyes have dropped to the hand you have over your abdomen. Nostrils flaring at the slight tang of blood.

His features slack. “You’re—”

You take the chance, knocking the blade from his hand, reaching to wrap your hands around his throat, but something impacts with your temple, a second figure coming from the darkness that you hadn’t noticed, and you feel as the hit registers.

A fresh wave of dizziness slams into you, the world tilting dramatically before you’re slumping, heading for the floor before hands catch you. Making sure you don’t land on your front.

The world goes silent.

——————————————————————————————————————————————

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