#at that age I was a fantasy girl I didn’t understand why anyone would willingly read about something so apocalyptic

[bsxcrxts]

I was too young when the hunger games books came out because I know peeta would have done irreversible damage to my mental state and taste in men. In like the way my standards would have been even higher than they are now

[fandomwriterstuff]

Traumtänzer (Pt. 2)

Rated T

German Translations:

Mein Gott - My God

Der Herr de Ringe - The Lord of the Rings

Il Principe - The Prince

Part 1

Part 3

“So… He went back in time to meet up with a woman he kissed once and who was happily married with children?” You asked skeptically. That didn’t sound like the Steven you’d known. But then again, you hadn’t known him all that well.

“It’s confusing, but that’s the gist of it,” Sam interjected, taking a sip of his tea. The four of you were getting cozy in your living room, though it was a bit small. Sam and James shared the couch and you and the Baron found yourselves in arm chairs.

“Why are you so willing to stick your neck out for him?” James asked, looking for more information.

“He,” you paused. How much should you say? “He helped me out when I had nothing,” you shrugged and looked down into your empty teacup. Chamomile had always been a favorite of yours.

“That explains why you owe him a favor, but you’re really going out of your way. You know we’re harboring a criminal,” James nodded towards the Baron. You squinted your eyes at him, wondering if he could be trusted.

“He kept my secret… He found out my background and he didn’t turn me over to the authorities or insist I go get tested on,” you could tell you’d piqued their attention with that one. It was true, what you’d been thinking before. You didn’t tell anyone about your background, but Wanda had seen you and told Steven, and he helped you get off the grid. “How do I know I can trust you?”

“You don’t,” the Baron finally spoke up. “But we’re not in a place to be helping SHIELD out considering the circumstances, so we have no real reason to turn you over.” You accepted his answer with a frown. It wasn’t a lot but he was right.

“I knew the Maximoffs when they worked for HYDRA because my parents were secretly HYDRA agents,” you looked down into the teacup again, fighting the tensing of your muscles and the urge to run. “They sent me in to be experimented on by the-” You lost the word for scepter. Damn it all. “The thing, you know.” You rolled your eyes and growled, swearing in Sokovian. The Baron smirked at that. “ The scepter, god what’s the fucking word,” you mumbled in Sokovian. You knew James and Sam wouldn’t understand but the Baron was Sokovian and should be helping you out. “ Help a girl out,” you pleaded in Sokovian, and you could tell he was holding back a laugh.

“The scepter?” He added in English.

“Yes!” You exclaimed. “They experimented on me with the scepter!” You were so excited to have found the correct word, you didn’t notice the silence or meaningful glances James and Sam sent each other. “So I got some cool powers, they ran a lot of tests, terrible time,” You continued quickly, wanting to get this part over with. “Steven knew this, and helped me get off the grid. I owe him more than a favor, I owe him my freedom, my life,” you said emphatically.

“So you’re HYDRA?” James asked, tensing up. You glared over at him.

“I do not associate myself with Nazis, James,” you were cold, but this was a tough topic. “I was forcibly experimented on for years, and you think I would willingly associate myself with them? You should know better.”

He had the self-awareness to look a little ashamed, though you couldn’t care less. You didn’t need his shame or his pity.

After a brief pause, you sighed. “You can stay here for a little bit. Where are you going next?”

“Madripoor,” the Baron answered smoothly, and you choked on your own spit.

“ Mein Gott,” you mumbled. “Why on Earth would you want to go there?”

“We have business there,” he said, noncommittal. You raised your eyebrows, so it was top secret. Interesting. You stared at each other for a moment, unsure where your next words would lead you. You didn’t want to push too far but your curiosity was burning.

“I suppose I will prepare dinner,” you finally said after losing a staring contest with a criminal.

It was an uneventful night. You prepared food and you all ate in silence. It was only later when you were sitting in the living room reading Der Herr der Ringe that things got weird. James was sharpening a knife while Sam fiddled with some electronics. The Baron was reading your copy of Il Principe quietly.

“ What is your superpower, then? Wanda has her mind tricks and Pietro had his speed,” the Baron was speaking in quiet Sokovian, though he didn’t even glance up from his book. You noticed James side-eye him, but he left it for the moment.

“ I hardly think I should tell you,” you huffed. He raised a single eyebrow, still looking down at the book.

“ Indulge a poor curious man,” he finally looked up and caught you in his gaze. You felt pulled towards him, like his fluent Sokovian was a homing beacon and you just wanted to be near him. It was dangerous, but you hadn’t spoken Sokovian in ages, nobody here knew it and it was becoming a dead language.

“ They called me a dreamwalker,” you whispered in your native language. “ I don’t know why I’m telling you this,” you frowned at yourself. You couldn’t trust him. But he was right, who was he going to tell? Alerting the authorities to you would also alert the authorities to him. You kept eye contact with him this time, tilting your head.

“ Tell me, Maus. How does dreamwalking work?”

“ I-”

“English please,” Sam groaned. You pursed your lips and made a quick decision to lie to him. He would have no such issues alerting the authorities. He was an Avenger.

“I was simply telling the Baron about my book. Der Herr der Ringe. The Lord of the Rings,” you replied smoothly.

“What’s so interesting about it?” James asked, this time genuinely curious. Though what was more curious was the small smile the Baron was giving you. You felt your cheeks burn at the attention and tried to hide it by glancing back down at your book.

“It’s the follow on to The Hobbit and follows the third age of Middle Earth,” you began, but James’ jaw had dropped.

“There was a sequel to the Hobbit and you didn’t tell me,” he glared at Sam, who only raised his hands placatingly.

“Dude, I didn’t know you were so into fantasy,” Sam raised his eyebrows.

“It’s actually three books,” you added. “Not just a sequel.”

“Oh man,” James shook his head. “I have been missing out. Is Gandalf still in it?”

You nodded, smiling. The previous topic was forgotten, you started telling him about the movies and how they helped you learn English.

All throughout the evening though, the Baron was glancing at you, trying to figure you out. You were sure he was curious about your powers, though you were sort of afraid to tell him. At the same time… It would be such a relief to talk to somebody about it.

You retired early after setting up the pull out couch and allowing the three men to figure out where they would sleep. They agreed that Sam and James would share the couch and the Baron would take the single bed in the guest room. Their explanation was that they’d be closest to the door if he tried to escape. You couldn’t sleep though, images from your past running through your mind.

It was nearing four when you simply decided to get up, make some tea, grab your book, and return to your room.

However, when you got to the kitchen, the Baron was sitting quietly at the table in the dark sipping on some tea.

“ Good morning,” you whispered in Sokovian, trying not to wake the men in the next room over. The Baron tilted his head towards you and smiled softly, the dark shadowed his face but you could see his features fine. You’d always preferred the night time and the darkness that came with it.

“ Couldn’t sleep? ” He replied in the same language. It must be nice for him to be able to speak it again, just like it was for her.

“ No,” you sighed. “ My mind was racing. And on top of that I’m not used to having guests.”

“You’re uncomfortable being vulnerable around us?” He asked softly, but you shook your head.

“ That’s not it.  I don’t want to accidentally walk into one of your dreams. I’m out of practice.”

He nodded sagely, it would make sense. You seemed like a polite girl and you likely wouldn’t want to intrude.

“ Tea? I made extra,” he gestured towards the teapot where steam was still rising and you smiled, smelling the chamomile.

“ Thank you,” you murmured and poured yourself a cup before sitting down at the table with him. “ You couldn’t sleep either?”

“Too much to do and plan,” he replied with a shrug of one shoulder. “ Will you tell me about your powers?”

You sighed, resigned, and nodded.

“ I suppose it wouldn’t hurt. I can walk through dreams and change them. It works for daydreams too, when people are in ‘the zone,’”  you explained. “ Though it’s harder then, when people are awake.”

I can also project my thoughts into other people’s minds you spoke this time directly in his head and his eyebrows shot up.

I haven’t figured out how to read minds per se, but I’m hoping I can learn.

“ Fascinating. Absolutely sensational,” you blinked and blushed at the praise, hoping he wouldn’t notice in the dark room. “ You’re incredible, Maus. Is there anything you can’t do?” He chuckled and you ducked your head, looking up at him through your lashes with a small smile. “ Oh, that’s not all, is it?” He wondered, a slow smile spreading on his face when you nodded your agreement.

“ It’s new… I have only developed it since my time in this flat. But just as I can project my thoughts, I can project my body. Sort of like teleporting,”  you murmured, smiling again when he looked at you, astounded.

“ You truly are wonderful,” he praised you again, this time noting your reaction. You spoke with him for a little while after that about the places you’d teleported to, but you found you’d drifted off when you ‘awoke’ in the dreamscape.

It looked like a forest, this place that your mind conjured. In the forest were many trees and shrubs but also little glimmering puddles. Those were the dreams. You walked as if in a trance, sometimes you had no control in the dreamscape. The puddle nearest to you was dark and murky, you were frightened and your chest tightened up, but you couldn’t hold back as you dipped your toes in and were immersed in the dream.

It was dark. It was always dark at first. But then there was a light and a voice.

You searched and walked around, looking for it, but you regretted entering this… this… this nightmare.

It was James as the Winter Soldier on a dark, cold night. You watched the scene as if in slow motion, and screamed as he killed his friend and his wife.

He jerked back to look at you, noticing you for the first time, and stalked towards you.

“You’re next,” he growled at you, but you scrambled backwards, trying to find your way out of the dream. You tried to conjure something to snap him out of it. You could usually do whatever you wanted, so you changed the scenery. You were on a hot beach, white sand beneath our bare feet, and the Winter Soldier kept stalking towards you.

“Let me out!” you screamed at him. “Let me out!”

You gasped and fell from your chair, and the Baron shot up to catch you.

“ Maus? Are you alright?” his arms were warm around you as you shook off the last of the terror. You were afraid of dying in a dream. You weren’t sure if you’d wake up.

“What the fuck?” James growled from the door frame, rumpled and angry.

“I am sorry,” you choked out. “I did not mean-”

“Stay out of my head,” he cut you off and retreated to the couch, where Sam sat, confused.

“ You might want to stay out of his dreams,” the Baron whispered, arms still caging you in, but you appreciated the strength as tears pricked at your eyes. You hated when people raised their voices.

“ I can’t always control it. I couldn’t get out,” you choked on the words. You huffed a ragged breath and righted yourself, finally pulling away from the Baron. “ I’ll start breakfast,” you mumbled and turned away from him so he couldn’t see the few tears you allowed to fall from fear and apprehension.

Masterlist

[strvngcrs]

『 adam brody. forty. cis male. he/him. 』 oh heavens, is that DANIEL ABRAMS from FAIR LANE i see roaming around mapleview? minnie may’s always calling them -BROODING & -EVASIVE. i happen to think they’re not that bad! they’re a pretty cool HORROR AUTHOR and every time i’ve seen them, they’ve always been +DEBONAIR & +ELOQUENT. i hope i see them around again! 

classically rolls in ridiculously late bc i forgot i had to work last night & then proceeded to sleep in today wooo !!  good afternoon ghouls, it’s ya girl maia, finally here to deliver the definition of hot mess with good intentions.

GENERAL

FULL NAME.    daniel elijah abrams.

NICKNAMES.    dan, danny.

AGE & BIRTHDATE.    40 years old ; may 4, 1980.

GENDER & PRONOUNS.    cis male ; he/him.

ORIENTATION.    heterosexual.

MARITAL STATUS.    estranged.

RELIGION.    jewish ( non-practicing ).

OCCUPATION.    horror author.

INSPIRATION.     bill denbrough ( it ), donnie darko ( donnie darko ), lucas scott ( one tree hill ), stephen king.

PHYSICAL

HAIR COLOUR.    black.

EYE COLOUR.    dark brown.

BUILD.    athletic.

MARKS.     freckles scarcely spread across his entire body.

TATTOOS.    none.

PIERCINGS.    none.

HEIGHT.    5'11".

FACECLAIM.    adam brody.

PERSONALITY

ZODIAC.    taurus.

ALIGNMENT.    chaotic neutral.

HOGWARTS.    ravenclaw.

LABEL.    the arcane.

POSITIVE TRAITS.    cheeky, debonair, driven, eloquent, resilient, solicitous.

NEGATIVE TRAITS.    brooding, evasive, inquisitive, sarcastic, stoic, stubborn.

HOBBIES.    smokes like a chimney while writing until he forgets what day of the week it is, dabbles in hunting & fishing (thanks @ his dad), labels all crime / thriller genres as ‘predictable’ but continues to watch them, obsesses over & relentlessly criticizes his own work, drinks heavily & passionately plays moonlight sonata or fur elise as if he’s betoven’s disciple.

BACKGROUND

PLACE OF BIRTH.    california.

CURRENT RESIDENCE.    mapleview, north carolina.

NATIONALITY.    american.

ETHNICITY.    ashkenazi jewish.

PARENTS.   judith miller & mr abrams.

SIBLINGS.    mia miller.

BIRTH ORDER.    eldest.

CHILDREN.    penelope abrams.

EDUCATION.     university of california, los angeles; bachelor of arts in english.

LANGUAGES.    english, some spanish & french.

HISTORY

EARLY LIFE.    born to THE judith miller and some newspaper editor, daniel was raised by the latter and notoriously abandoned by the former. well, not completely abandoned - there’s an old shoebox containing a few letters as proof - but that was the only source of communication in their otherwise absent relationship. while little danny boy didn’t fully understand why he couldn’t see his mother, he sought out an alternative solution by watching her movies. his father wasn’t aware, at first, and dan created this extravagant fantasy of the person he thought she was based on the roles she played. however, once papa abrams found out his son was watching these movies (which were probably not fit for children in the first place lmao oop), he begrudgingly revealed the bitter truth. being forced to come to terms with the fact that his own mother willingly abandoned him with his father, daniel didn’t fully understand what it meant; he couldn’t properly process why. the hurt of absent mother was expressed more out of anger, feeling as though there must have been something wrong with him. there were fewer and fewer letters sent to judith until he gave up altogether and thus, dan’s out of control behavior was born.

TEENAGE FEVER.    SUICIDE MENTION TW.  he struggled in school. his emotions betrayed him. instead of relishing a happy childhood, daniel found himself pushing everyone away, getting into fights, sneaking out late at night to run around the city streets with his friends and get into all sorts of trouble with them. he couldn’t count on his hands how many times the police picked him up and brought him to his dad’s doorstep. it only got worse once one of his best friends was found dead, written off as a suicide, though it didn’t add up in dan’s eyes and seemed so much more sinister. the young man was nearly deemed to be a lost cause, until he discovered his passion for writing. 

                                  language arts or literature was the last thing anyone would ever think to group with daniel abrams. but his english teacher noticed how well he could articulate his thoughts and feelings on paper, and submitted one of his pieces to a writing contest, which earned dan the win and a cash prize. bewildered by a talent he hadn’t even realized was in him, daniel embraced it. he started writing in a journal ( which he kept safely tucked away beneath the mattress of his bed ), documenting every feeling and thought as a way to express his emotions in a more productive manner. this talent earned him a full ride scholarship to ucla with a major in literature and plans of diving into some sort or creative writing career or perhaps becoming an english teacher, to follow in the footsteps of his high school teacher who he came to idolize.

                                  mere days into his freshman year, however, his high school sweetheart showed up in the middle of the night at his dorm with a positive pregnancy test. it was then the chaotic world as he knew it turned a new leaf, revealing a silver lining in the form of their daughter, penelope, who daniel hadn’t a clue, just yet, would save him. and so a shotgun wedding was quickly planned around the pair, both families either completely supportive or in utter disbelief. it was quick, it was cheap(ish), and it was stressful as all heck. but they were young, and in love, and were looking forward to starting a family together, despite it being a little earlier than initially planned.

“ADULT”HOOD.    fast forward five years, and they’re signing divorce papers. fortunately, it wasn’t messy. the two had simply grown apart as they matured in their respective ways, and remaining together was only causing a rift to develop between the two. the last thing they wanted, for the sake of their daughter, was built up resentment to tear the little family apart. his wife, who daniel initially thought to be the love of his life, blossomed into an absolute goddess; she was ambitious and knew exactly what she wanted. daniel, on the other hand, was still somewhat caught up in his ‘bad boy’ habits of drinking excessively and his career was still pretty up in the air. the two just didn’t compliment each others’ lifestyles anymore.

                                   daniel moved out but remained in california, settling for a bachelor’s apartment where he was able to have penelope every weekend. during this time, he finally cracked down and worked on finishing a novel he’d started years prior. within a year, he found a publisher who took interest in his grotesque works, and by the time daniel was twenty seven, his first bestseller hit the shelves, changing his life for the better with the ability to provide for his daughter without stress of landing another odd job ever again.

                                   as his fame increased, so did his desire to slink back into the shadows away from the limelight. at first, he enjoyed the wholesome book signings by day and grungy celebratory benders by night. but it grew old pretty fast and he certainly didn’t want to end up as another washed up shmuck. so, on a whim, daniel decided to move out of california completely, removing himself from the toxic lifestyle he’d grown accustomed to and shacking up on a beautiful piece of land in the rocky mountains of north carolina. the serenity and scenery certainly aided in his inspiration, as well as his unacknowledged lowkey addictions slowly being rehabilitated from his bloodstream.

OLD YELLER.    now, in his utmost prime at forty years old, he’s written numerous cult classics, a few of which have successful movie adaptations. he was lucky enough to land himself in a second marriage, though.... that one is now deteriorating as well because he literally doesn’t know how to maintain a healthy relationship. he received full custody of his daughter when she was sixteen, under the unfortunate circumstance of her mother’s untimely death. although they’d been separated for nearly twenty years, daniel was still very much affected by the loss, more so empathetically for penelope. he’s still hooked on the drink, though he’s definitely calmed down quite a bit from when he was a young buck. basically a messy, depressy old soul who uses sarcasm to deflect his true feelings.

CONNECTIONS

ESTRANGED WIFE.    first marriage was a bust, and the second is turning out to be no better. they haven’t hit rock bottom just yet, in his opinion (which would be finalizing a divorce lmao), and he’s unsure if they should work things out or not but also really.......doesn’t wanna go through the process of another divorce. plus he likes her and deep down adores their bickering. the reason(s) why things started falling apart between them can be discussed of course. lowkey debating on whippin this up as a big official wc but.... if anybody already here would like to snag it, i would 100% mclove it.

COLLABORATORS.    literally anyone he’s worked with over the years, whether they be fellow authors, publishers/publicists, journalists, screenplay writers, etc. yeehooo the possibilities are endless !!

FOLLOWERS.    anyone hooked on his books, whether devout fans from his early beginnings or people who newly discovered his fictional writings.

FORMER CLASSMATES.    could be from high school or university, but he was in california for the better part of his life aka not a mapleview native. former friends to foes & anything in between. dan’s that one kid who spiked the punch bowl at all the dances and years later probably snuck in party favors to snort off the bathroom sink during their high school reunion lmao whew !!

ANYTHING.    literally anything. i’m my groggy state of mind on my lack of creativity rn so please, i’m beggin. if daniel can enrich your characters’ lives in any way, shape, or form, hit me up and we’ll hatch a plan.

[purplellamanator]

first, u should know that u are an amazing writer 😎 second, could u do numba 1 for fantasy au prompts cuz im dying to know what itll be like 😉 graciaas ~

Gods~ Person A is a powerful deity and to appease them, Person B is sacrificed or given as an offering

Hey so I'm sorry! You didn't specify for which pairing and I noticed someone asked for this one with ShinRan already so I did it for KaiAo. I hope that's okay and that you enjoy! 💜 Thank you for the nice compliment though! Thank you for liking my writing enough to send me a request! i’m sorry for any grammar mistakes! It’s kind of late here and I’ve been working on this for a while! So some things likely escaped my proof read! That and this idea got way out of hand and may be a bit ridiculous! Hope it gives some kind of humor though!  

oOo

"Wait- you guys can't be serious!" She knew it was pointless to even say that. She knew how serious they were. Just one glance at their expressions had her backing away as far as possible until she eventually ran into the wall.

Aoko had officially cornered herself.

The village chief tried to step forward only to jump back when she suddenly swung her mop out defensively. He gave a slight frown before he quickly tried to hide his aggravation. "You should be proud, Aoko-san. Your sacrifice will bring peace to our village."

The young woman had to hold back her sneer. She wanted to bite back that it wasn't her duty to bring anything to the village. He was the chief of their people. If anything it should be him that was practically being served on a plate. Of course being smarter than that, she knew it would not bode well if she even suggested that. Instead, her blues eyes flit around all the villagers that were slowly closing in on her.

Her brows furrowed. "Where's my father?" Expression becoming more panicked, she desperately looked all around. But he was not there and a new fear settled in her stomach.

Without even blinking at her question, he said, "He is making the preparations." His words were as calm as can be, as if what he said was the most normal thing. A father preparing his own daughter's sacrifice.

Aoko was not so easy to trick. Her eyes narrowed sharply and that sneer she had been attempting to hide finally surfaced. "You're lying."

There was no way her father would ever agree to this. After her mother died, he had no one else but her in his life after all. Which left two other options. Her father was not aware of what was happening or, he was being forced against his will to cooperate.

"What did you do to him?" she bit out furiously.

The chief shrugged his shoulders as if what he were about to say wasn't all that important. It made Aoko want to slap that smugness right off his face.

"He'll come to understand why this was a necessity."

That told the girl all she needed to know. Her father did know what was happening. He just couldn't do anything to stop it. Likely they knew it would be smarter to get him out of the way first. It made her temper that had only been simmering before, finally boil over. Anger getting the best of her, she charged forward toward the chief, mopped bared in front of her threateningly prepared to swing.

She barely made it a few steps before she was getting grabbed from behind. Aoko struggled. She did with all her might. In the end, the outcome was what she knew would happen.

Arms bound behind her back, she was led to the offering plate- or the woods was more like it. The villagers were cowards and didn't want the sacrifice happening anywhere within their borders. The plan was likely to have her sit out there willingly. When that obviously wasn't an option, they attempted to bind her to a tree. When she wouldn't stop yelling, she was gagged. When she wouldn't stop kicking, she was knocked unconscious.

Fighting and legs kicking out was how she awoke. Still stuck on trying to get away, it took her a moment to realize that no one was even there anymore. It was just her there. It was dark- pitch black. Some of the moon's rays were attempting to peek out but due to the amount of cover the trees surrounding her provided, it hardly helped. Obviously quite some time had already passed since she was initially brought out here. The sun had only just begun to set when the chief had ambushed her at her home.

Aoko felt tears brimming her eyes. She'd argue they were tears of frustration more than anything. It would seem that in her unconscious state they had successfully bound her to the tree firmly. When she at least attempted to wiggle out of them, that was when she realized her initial bindings holding her wrists together were still tied firmly as well.

So it was hopeless. After finally taking notice of the lantern they left beside her, she couldn't help but be mocking. At least they left her a damn nightlight.

Tears finally sliding down her cheeks, she screamed as loud as she could. At this point it wasn't even to get help. The yell was just to let out something- anything. But it would seem even that was not satisfying. The gag that was still wrapped tightly around her face muffled any kind of yell she attempted.

Stubbornly, she did it anyway. And again. And another time after that. Aoko screamed until she was thoroughly worn and struggling to breath around the gag; her chest heaving as she finally sagged back against the tree.

Like she already knew, no one came to her rescue. She doubted anyone even heard her. If they did, she would've been ignored anyway. In her struggle, she hadn't thought to pay attention to how far they dragged her out here. All she had done was throw punches and kicked blindly. For all she knew she could be just on the outskirts of the village.

And that thought was good enough for her.

Aoko went to start screaming again. Even if no one would come help her, just the thought of keeping those idiots up would bring some amount of joy to her. Just as she was preparing to let loose however, something . . . changed.

Foolishly, she hadn't been paying attention so she had no way of knowing if this change just started or if it had already done so during her earlier fit. But the moment she went to start yelling again, the flame in the lantern that had been left for her, blew out harshly. It had been quite breezy when she was first woken up but finally taking a second to just sit and breathe, she realized for the first time that all of that was gone.

The wind was no longer blowing. The noises that had been from the shuttering of leaves was gone. It was all dead silent.

Aoko's breathing suddenly picked up harshly. It was still difficult to see, even more so now that her lantern was currently useless. Eyes squinting hard, she stared intently into the darkness before her.

Then she heard the footsteps. They were not necessarily heavy but in this dead quiet, sounded thunderous.

For the first time in all of this, she finally remembered the one glaring detail she should've acknowledged from the beginning.

The God. She was a sacrifice after all and yet was dumb enough to forget that.

Heart jumping into her throat, she suddenly began wiggling in her bindings again. She kept pulling and straining against them. At this point she was pretty sure all she was doing was tightening them, but she was desperate now and did not care. Actions spurred on by a new fear, she kept struggling even as the rope began to give her burns. Adrenaline picking up along with her pulse, the fact her eyes were becoming extremely blurry from tears was making this situation even more terrifying. That and though she was pretty sure it was all in her head, it sounded like the steps were picking up their pace. When it finally sounded like they were right on top of her, she gave a panicked scream- that was still muffled by her gag, and tried to bury her face in her lap as best she could. Which was impossible considering how she was tied up but she clenched her eyes shut tight and that would have to be enough. Aoko braced herself for whatever would come next. Being a sacrifice, she assumed the worst and knew she was trembling in fear.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Unsure if she was hearing correctly and still freaked out of her mind, Aoko didn't move and kept her head bowed. She didn't want to see the terrifying face of her attacker. But then she heard it. A voice. A human voice. Out of all the noises a God could make, she had not been expecting that and her eyes shot open before she was carefully angling her gaze upwards. She was no longer crying but the tears that still remained she could feel were sliding down her cheeks slowly.

It was a boy. Well- not a boy per say. He looked to be about her age and if she hadn't be chosen as the offering she would've been turning 18 this year. The point was, he was a human. Aoko of course heard stories of how Gods liked to disguise themselves as humans but this was just. . . too plain.

Aoko mostly said nothing because of her shock but he likely assumed it was due to her gag. Crouching so that he was at eye level with her, he leaned forward and pulled the gag from her mouth tossing it uncaringly behind him. When his expectant eyes turned back to her, she was still staring at him in disbelief.

"That's it."

Briefly, she wanted to take those words back and smack herself. She couldn't help it though. This was the God that demanded a sacrifice. This was the God that had the village elders scrambling about in fear. He was just a human; flesh and bone just like her.

This had to be a joke.

The guy jerked back, affronted. "W-what?"

And apparently he was stupid and hard of hearing.

"I mean, that's it? No opening a portal from Hell or flying down from a chariot? Just a gust of wind? And then you'll stand in the woods to watch like a weirdo." Aoko crinkled her nose up in disgust as she eyed him up and down. He was pretty gangly.

She could take him.

The guy's mouth fell open, baffled as he struggled to find the words. Finally he said, "I'm the weirdo?" before he was pointing a finger at her accusingly. "Says the one tied to a stupid tree! What are you even doing out here anyway?"

Thinking she was about to come face to face with an all powerful God and to have those expectations sort of fall flat, Aoko felt all her fear wash away. She was sure her face was still splotchy from her panic crying from earlier but she felt fine now. Besides the stranger's stature, he didn't seem the least bit frightening. His tone wasn't threatening in the least. If anything, he looked concerned.

"Apparently being a sacrificial lamb," she answered in response to his question and his brows about raised into his hairline. If she thought he looked concerned before, his expression now was just humorous. And suddenly he was kneeling behind her undoing her bindings. When the rope slackened around her chest and she raised her still bound wrists expectantly now, the man's face was even more incredulous.

"Whoever put you here really didn't want you getting away," he said probably mostly to himself as an observation.

All it did was make Aoko roll her eyes. "Well you should know. It's your fault I'm out here anyway!" she shouted accusingly.

"Hey!" he said backing up quickly so she couldn't hit him. "I don't even know who the hell you are!"

Blue eyes narrowing she went to punch him in his face. "I'm the 'sacrifice' that you demanded." Seeing her fist coming however, he simply ducked under it before her words finally hit him and his eyes went big again.

"Huh?"

Then her fist hit him. In the stomach specifically. It was likely a low blow to hit him when he was distracted by arguably, this entire situation was his fault. Aoko wouldn't of been tied to a tree by a bunch of nut jobs if this equally as insane idiot hadn't demanded it.

The force of her hit had knocked him to the ground on his back. If she hadn't caught him off guard it probably wouldn't of even hurt but seeing her opening, she hurriedly straddled him, forcing him to remain on the ground with her weight.

He still seemed to be stuck in the confusion of her accusation but she wasn't taking any chances and quickly gripped his wrists pressing them into the dirt roughly. "Don't play games with me! You're telling me you didn't send out that calling card?" she asked daring him to lie to her. Being a villager herself she had also been called to the gathering when the card was first discovered. She had seen it with her own two eyes so there was no way he could argue there hadn't been one.

Fighting back looked like it was the last thing on his mind and his head rose of the ground slightly so he could get in her face and yell back. "I did send out a calling card but not this!"

Since he wasn't fighting, she removed one of her hands to stick her finger harshly in his face. "You asked for me to be sacrificed!"

The accusation had him sitting up straight and almost sent her sprawling. "Whoa, whoa, whoa," he said putting his hands up in front of him defensively. "I never asked for a sacrifice!" He seemed incredulous that she would even accuse him of doing that.

Jabbing finger falling short, her rant and thoughts successfully cut off, she could only stutter awkwardly. "Y-you . . . You never asked for an offering. . ?" Suddenly she was feeling meek. Who had she just attacked? Was this some innocent stranger that saw her tied to a tree and decided to help. . ? . . And she attacked him. . . But that couldn't be! He said it was his calling card after all! "You're lying!" she said angrily.

Releasing an annoyed huff, he shook his head. "I asked for the Blue Sapphire. Not some. . . silly girl!"

Now Aoko was the one confused.

"I am the blue sapphire," she reiterated with irritation. It was stupid and not anything that she wanted to be associated with but being one of the only eligible women left in her village, she had quickly been dubbed that. There town was a poor one and she was quickly entered into an arranged marriage that could bring her village at least some good fortune. That too had of course been against her will but only at first. When she met the suitor she wasn't all that disappointed. It could've been worse. It could've been to a man that was double her age. But Hakuba was was nice enough and actually seemed quite fond of her. He loved complimenting the blue hue of her eyes and that made her feel pretty and special . . and her father actually approved, so finally she agreed. And Hakuba being as wealthy as he was promised to pay the village heftily once he was given his blue gem. Hence why she was dubbed their Blue Sapphire. A nickname that was started by her fiance but seemed to stick when it became clear she held the same value price wise for her home. And she gave this stranger a form of that explanation, albeit while looking at him as if he were the densest being she had ever met.

Taking in what she told him, he sat frozen for a moment. His mouth was slightly agape and his eyes large. And then suddenly she was being tossed from his lap roughly as he shot to his feet. "What?"

Rubbing her bottom tenderly from where she just landed on the ground she scowled at him. "I'm the Blue Sapphire," she repeated though she was sure he didn't need her to repeat it.

The man's already panicked features seemed to turn pale. "S-so you're saying there is no actual gem?"

Aoko couldn't help it. She laughed. And it wasn't just a giggle either. It was a full on belly shaking laugh that had heard attempting to hold back tears. "You actually thought there was some precious gem?" she attempted to ask between breaths. She knew she shouldn't of been finding it that funny but the stupidity of it all was just . . . hilarious. Her village was dirt poor. They barely could make ends meet. And he thought they were hoarding some precious gem worth millions?

Letting her have her moment, he continued to glare at her furiously. "Yes, I actually thought there was some precious gem. In what reality are you a rare Blue Sapphire?"

She abruptly cut off her chortles to give an offended, "Hey!" but he didn't care and plowed on.

"I wasted all this time and planning for a girl." At this point she was sure he was just yelling at himself but that of course would not stop her from jumping in.

"Well, serves you right," she snorted while crossing her arms and turning her nose up. "That's what you get for pretending to be a God and 'demanding' offerings."

Since she wasn't outwardly looking at him, Aoko completely missed the way his entire frame stiffened. It was only when she heard him turn around that she saw how tense her statement had made him.

And to her bafflement, he started laughing.

At first she was confused but when he was beginning to remind her of herself from earlier in the way it appeared he wouldn't be stopping anytime soon, she stamped her foot with a huff. "What? What is it now?"

"Who said I was pretending?" The stare he sent her she was sure was supposed to be intimidating. All it did was make her snort.

"Oh please," she scoffed. "Just look at your clothes."

Really offended he took a second to look at his own apparel. "My clothes? What's wrong with what I'm wearing?" his pitch raising with his question.

"You're wearing breeches that look like you've stripped them off some beggar and your tunic might as well just be a giant stain," she rolled her eyes. Please- a God. She almost snorted again. No God would ever be caught walking around in-

Suddenly a loud crackling noise ripped through the air. It was so loud and when sparks seemed to erupt every where, she jumped startled behind the stranger. Thinking it was the real God, she gripped the man's arm tightly as if he would be her shield. Too distracted by what looked to be a swirling mirror before her, she completed missed how the stranger looked down with an annoyed frown where she was currently grabbing him.

Nothing happened though. No God appeared- nothing. Amazed more than anything now, Aoko slowly stepped around the stranger to get a better look. The sparks that had scared her only moments before did nothing but swirl around the objects borders, which seemed to be a giant oval. And in the middle which she had compared to a mirror, seemed to be anything but solid. It was shimmering and and as she drew closer it moved. . . like water?

She wanted to touch it. Swallowing hard she reached out a finger and went to touch the center. But her finger fell through! Experimentally she pulled her finger back before pushing it back in again but this time her whole hand. It wasn't water at all! "What is this?" she breathed in awe.

"I believe you called it a portal to Hell."

With a small shriek she quickly pulled her hand back and held the limb close to her chest. Not long after the stranger was walking up beside her while chortling. "I said that's what you called it," he clarified and she gave him a frosty glare. All it did was make his lips twitch upward again. "Sorry there's no chariot though." And then he winked.

He was making fun of her. Still amazed by what was happening though, she didn't care to grace it with a proper response. Instead she took notice of how he was bracing one hand on the border to what she now knew was a portal- an entryway of sorts.

"You're leaving?" Aoko didn't really sound disappointed. She hardly knew him. But she couldn't argue that this wasn't the most bizarrely interesting day of her entire existence.

The man shrugged. "I was never going to stay here long. I was only going to respond to the calling card, accept my offering, and then leave," he said while pointing a thumb over his shoulder into the portal.

"Oh . . . " Aoko looked at her hands and was reminded of the bindings she once had tied around them. They were burning and had been rubbed raw from her straining which reminded her that she owed him something. "Thank you for helping me."

Still leaning against the portal, he gave her a nod but also a very bland look. "You're welcome and all but are you ready to go now or. . . ?" His question had completely thrown her and her eyes had widened impossibly. He wasn't paying her any mind though and looking at where the moon was in the sky. "Not that this hasn't been one of the strangest calling cards I've answered to but I kind of gotta' be somewhere."

"Wait- what?" Against her will she took a step back defensively.

The stranger- no, God, sighed heavily as if she were exhausting him. "We have to go, like now," he said with annoyance. "I'm a night deity for a reason."

"I thought you said you were looking for gems!"

"Well, I mean you're my offering so it would be rude for me not to take it," he reasoned as if that made total sense. As if him sparing her life would be the greatest offense.

Suddenly she was beginning to panic again and her heart was starting to race. "B-but- but I don't have any value to you!" she argued back desperately. "I'm useless!"

Head falling back in exhaustion, the man let out another aggravated groan before picking his head up. "Listen uh . . Blue Sapphi-"

"It's Aoko!" she stamped her foot angrily.

"Aoko," he corrected himself. "The person that I have to meet with is a bit of an asshole and that same exact asshole is waiting for me like now," he reaffirmed while seeing how much the moon had lowered.

When he just looked at her expectantly after that she could only do the same back while her eyes were flitting to the side for an escape. Which apparently he noticed cause he straightened. "You're not going to come quietly are you?"

In response, she ran.

[handmaidensofnaboo]

“Ultimately, it is very apparent this novel was noticeably, lovingly, and carefully crafted by a Prequel fan, a Padmé fan, a Handmaiden fan... Queen's Shadow is a fitting tribute.”

❦

Queen's Shadow had a somewhat impossible task for me as a handmaiden “super fan,” a potentially “tough critic,” so I commend E.K. Johnston for willingly providing me with an early copy to share my thoughts on it with you all... I was nervous about how Queen's Shadow would turn out to be honest, but EKJ was up to the task...

I'll preface this review by saying Handmaidens were my first real community engagement in fandom. My older sister and I joined the Royal Handmaiden Society on TheForce.Net boards back around 2001 when I was about 14. The RHS was the reason I went to my first convention (Celebration II) and although the group isn't as present online as it once was (please follow @royalhandmaidensociety​), I made life long friends and it forever shaped and changed me. It was an overwhelmingly positive fandom experience at a very impressionable age and for that I'm forever thankful...  So for those of us who have such deep roots to this, who have, for the past 20 years, analyzed the handmaidens’ every micro expression, every costume, and have carved out our own understanding of them (from what little information that would could find), this book might be a bit "complicated " to process.

 At least it was for me.

With the announcement of Queen's Shadow, I was of course initially ecstatic, validated even, that they/we were being seen and heard, finally!! Yet mixed feelings slowly sunk in too. Despite us RHSers long lamenting the lack of content—handmaidens unjustly being overlooked in both Star Wars official media and for a long time in mainstream fandom—it also became this amazing small community space for each of us to freely imagine and play in. It’s been a kind of safe haven I've come to greatly appreciate. With a book featuring them... That could all potentially change. This fandom could change. I found myself wondering a few weeks ago, "Will I even like these girls? Will I love these new versions of Eiraté, Rabé, Sabé...” Something I've previously never had to consider. My fictional friends were about to be exposed on a larger than ever level, and reshaped, officially, forever. I was worried.



I knew I had to go into this book open minded, no way could EKJ take each one of our different headcanons and fantasies and appease us all in one ultimate text—but to my surprise, there were certainly select striking scenes, moments, I had while reading, where (for me) she did accomplish just that.  

After both the prologue and the first chapter in particular (which were centered around my favorite Handmaidens, from TPM), I had to put the book down for a while because I was so overwhelmed in the best kind of way. It truly was so close to capturing what I have wanted all these years that I just wanted to bask in it. Maybe that sounds silly but even simply one chapter filled with handmaidens, is an overwhelming amount of content for us to receive, let alone an ENTIRE book. This little fandom is just so used to excavating for scraps. I reread the beginning of the book again the next day, out of pure enjoyment, before I continued on.



The unbelievable news, the great news... Something I can't believe even is real... Is that Queen's Shadow starts with handmaidens and ends with handmaidens, and there are handmaidens in… NEARLY? Every. Single. Chapter. I really never thought I'd never see the day. I’m stunned. Yes, they are different then I imagine them, but I'm happy to see them, I still like them, just the same. And Padmé, who has also been sorely ignored, unappreciated, and underutilized within general Star Wars media/merchandise, is also finally getting the spotlight she deeply deserves.

❦

Queen's Shadow is woven like an intricate tapestry threading together Padmé's stories throughout the entire prequel trilogy (especially the first two films), and highlights some of my favorite stylistic and thematic choices within them. Similar to the prequels (especially TPM) it reminded me of a period drama, with it's more formal dialogue, richly detailed costumes, ceremonies and politics, and admittedly a more contemplative pace than the swashbuckling fairy tales of the OT (but still engaging in it's own way). Also like the prequels, you get that occasional ominous foreboding, that sense of pieces being moved behind the curtains by shadowy figures, of unclear motivations by supposed "allies," of tragic destinies being spun—but still find yourself swept away by moments of hope and idealism, despite it all.  There is a particularly heartbreaking yet beautiful finale moment of this book with her that was so fitting to George Lucas' vision of Star Wars, it was, as he once said, "like poetry—it rhymes." Anytime something can capture that Lucas approach to storytelling, I am thankful to be reminded of why I loved Star Wars in the first place. (Especially in the Disney era years when I've felt a bit "post break up" about the franchise, to be honest.)

Queen's Shadow is foremost about Padmé's work, shifting and hardening herself into her new role as senator. It does justice to the themes and qualities that originally enchanted and inspired me about her: fulfilling her duty to her people, her compassion for vulnerable communities, and fighting for what's right—through language, through political and inner power, strategy, and unexpected partnerships. And as always, Padmé is luminous. 

There is one cause in particular she is advocating for that is notably poignant in its connections to TPM. I was incredibly pleased it was there, relieved even. It was so important and needed for her character. It enriches the choices she makes in the later films. And it is just one of a number of political themes in the book that are timeless and ever relevant, but wasn't inserted into the story in a heavy-handed way. I love that the main audience for this book (young girls), will get these meaty concepts presented to them through our beloved political heroine and the diversely talented women supporting her.  While we do see the various skills and character moments of Padmé and her handmaidens, I admit (and this is just my first read impressions) they all still did feel somewhat at a distance for me. I personally would've liked to have dug deeper into their personalities. I'm not sure how to properly articulate it, but I just felt a bit left "wanting more"—for more walls to come down, to have gotten further into their inner thoughts... But I think it's partly the challenge of the large number of characters, the book’s YA length, and a personal preference of writing style. Which, in EKJ’s defense, does compliment these particular characters, who have long had these kind of untouchable, unknowable presences, these masks over them (and she does address that). I think as I reread it, my feelings on may improve as I retain all the subtleties better. But if they remain elusive, that gives us room to fill it out with our own head canons, which is something many of us all ~clearly~ enjoy! It is part of their appeal, part of why we first loved them after all. 
It's also important to note the impressive attention to various Star Wars lore that is entwined throughout Queen's Shadow, from remnant gems of "Legends" handmaiden lore (and even RHS in jokes), to architectural details found in Battlefront II, to various appearances by Clone Wars characters... And many more I’m sure I’ve missed. Yet thankfully I can't recall any of it is done in a way that comes off as showy, elitist, or hard to follow (if for example, you're like me and admittedly haven't watched hardly any of the Clone Wars).  Additionally, here and there, there were some scenes or lines that didn't quite hit the mark for me personally, one minor set of changes from "Legends" handmaiden ages irked me a bit (we had so little to cling to ok! lol), frustration at already established lore (such as Panaka and Clovis, which EKJ can’t help), and other things that were simply just creative choices of the author (which of course happens for me with almost every Star Wars spin-off). 



Regarding the last point, that was the only other occurrence where I put the book willingly down, this time because I needed to get some space—to process something I decidedly didn't like. It was about midway through the book regarding a particular minor storyline. I don't want to spoil, but I will say it involved a new character that, for me, was taking up too much room in a book that already had plenty of amazing characters I wanted to spend more time with. I just felt he wasn’t exactly needed, or that others easily could've substituted his place and it would've been more meaningful to the lore.  These critiques are relatively minor however, and most of them are easy to move beyond, especially when I consider the bigger picture, and the majority of scenes, quotable lines, and pivotal interactions in Queen's Shadow that do seamlessly work. Those more than make up for the handful of things I struggled with.

 Ultimately, it is very apparent this novel was noticeably, lovingly, and carefully crafted by a Prequel fan, a Padmé fan, a Handmaiden fan. For this I'm deeply thankful, because it's easy to imagine if it wasn't—How poorly or sloppily Padmé could've been mischaracterized or the possible omission and/or confusion regarding the handmaidens… The latter of which BOTH the revered Dave Filoni and Timothy Zahn are woefully guilty of, (full offense). It hits me sometimes how so much damage could've been done were this in less capable, less attentive hands, with an author that would've cared less. EKJ clearly cared a lot. Minor issues aside, that's really what mattered most to me, at the root of it. So I'm very glad.



The more open minded you go in, the more you will enjoy Queen's Shadow, and (I say this for myself, as much as for anyone else who can relate) we can still make space for and enjoy our old head canons alongside to the new lore, or even mesh them together... I admittedly struggled a few times, but I definitely enjoyed reading it overall, particularly all the scenes on Naboo (and another planet that will go unnamed for now)... 

If you love Padmé, the handmaidens, Naboo culture, prequel politics—this book is a must read. The more time that passes, and as I reflect back, the more I feel that Queen's Shadow is a fitting tribute to Padmé and our handmaidens, let alone the prequel era itself. Queen's Shadow will be comfortably situated on my bookshelf beside our other established classics: Queen Amidala's Journal and Queen's Amulet, and I’m looking forward to revisiting it again when the audiobook comes out (holy heck we're finally gonna hear almost all the handmaiden names pronounced??! Have we been saying them "correct" all these years?? Stay tuned lmao...) I'll probably be posting my spoiler thoughts on Queen's Shadow after the book's release on March 5, 2019. Pre-orders are available online, though I really recommend purchasing it at your local independent book store if you can, and/or requesting your local libraries get a copy! Please share your own pictures/thoughts/reviews on here, twitter, instagram etc. and tag it. We gotta encourage Disney to give us more, because this book definitively ends with an invitation for a sequel or spin off of some sort, and I, a bit desperately, want it!!  The more we can support Queen's Shadow with the language Disney knows best ($$ and exposure) the better chance of future Padmé and handmaiden content, and they deserve it!! All of it—books, comics, Disney+ streaming miniseries, video games—Give them the legacy Rogue Squadron got. It's their time.



Again, thank you so much E.K. Johnston for creating this beautiful book, and going out of your way to provide me a copy. I'll always treasure that moment when I got that surprise package in the mail, a book nearly 20 years in the waiting. I was 12 years old again, that snowy day on my porch.



Can't wait to read everyone's thoughts. MTFBWY. ✨✨✨

Thank you for reading,

@handmaidensofnaboo​

❦

♕ Pre Order Queen's Shadow 

♕ Purchase Queen’s Shadow at your local independent bookstore

♕ Follow author E.K. Johnston: website | twitter | instagram | tumblr

♕ Follow cover artist Tara C. Philips: website | twitter | instagram | tumblr

[kimvvantae]

Umbra; 9

➜   being ruled by an ancient commandment, your sole purpose is to serve. you were born to protect the king with your life, tied by an everlasting oath; you are nothing but a shadow, a silent and insignificant being. he appears to you like the sun, the warmest and brightest star in the sky, and gives you a chance to live. it is then that your entire universe starts to orbit around this sun, and you decide that you are truly willing to die for him.

pairing: King!Taehyung x (f) hybrid!reader

genre: royalty au, fantasy, angst  

warnings: descriptions of violence, blood, death, mistreatment and abuse that might be triggering especially on this chapter.

word count: 11.3k oh wow

A/N: I will repeat it here because some people seem to ignore the warnings. I tried to make things as brief as possible, but this chapter in special contains a particular scene that might be a trigger. I know that even the tiniest mention can make some people uncomfortable, so I’m warning you again. If you have any issue or trauma regarding abuse, proceed with caution. If you are sure that even the lightest mention might trigger you, I advise you to simply jump past Y/N’s flashback. Although the scene does not contain any explicit description and it’s not heavy at all, I don’t want to trigger anyone. 

enjoy uwu.

➜  Chapters: check up masterlist in bio!

“It means I’ll be able to buy dresses, brother?”

Yoongi huffed, however he had a big gummy smile on his lips – a rare sight. “Chuu, you’ll be able to buy much more than just dresses.”

The girl let a high pitched, excited scream at this.

I watched with a small smile, sat a little far from them. The entire palace was euphoric that morning – and not because of the presence of Vanaheim’s Princess.

The announcement of the new work-policy has just been released.

Posts were glued on walls all over the service area, and even at the kitchen. Superiors were deemed to explain the entire situation clearly. Slowly, each servant – worker; this is how everyone should be called from now on – received a document showing their exact monthly payment according to their task. Also, the superiors had to explain (between gritted teeth) that no moral abuse or physical punishment would be tolerated, and if they wanted to keep their jobs they would have to act accordingly.

The palace was smiles everywhere.

It was barely nine in the morning, but the service area was a mess - in a good way. I heard people saying how they could be able to sustain their families now, how they could have a better life or remodel their houses, or even how they would be able to finally open their own businesses and be free from the palace. The usual quiet and serious palace was now exultant.

I looked at Yoongi and Chuu. The catman seemed slightly dizzy, as if he still couldn’t believe his eyes. Chuu was just laughing and rambling about all the pretty dresses she would buy. I looked at the shiny breaded bracelet on her wrist, which I gave her just a few days ago – and she loved it immediately.

Well... it wasn’t exactly my gift, but I hadn’t told her yet exactly who gave it.

Someone sat quietly by my side. I crossed my arms.

“I told you His Majesty is good.”

Jungkook sat there in silence, not looking at me. He watched the commotion around us. His dark eyes showed some confusion.

“How do you know he did it himself?” He asked suspiciously.

“He showed me the entire document before anyone else. It was really him.”

The rabbit-boy crossed his arms and looked at me with narrowed eyes. “Why would he show you first? Aren’t you his guardian or something?”

I could see the word “slave” passing through his mind. “He treats me like a normal person. That’s all.”

Jungkook still eyed me suspiciously. Being honest, as much as I wanted to defend Taehyung from him, I also couldn’t blame him or think he was wrong. I didn’t even need to feel auras to notice how Jungkook had deep wounds - not physical ones. I could see in his eyes, how he seemed to be angry all the time, how he barely interacted with anyone. That was a young man that learned to not trust people through pain.

I stared at him in silence for some moments.

“What’s your story, Jungkook?”

The rabbit-boy seemed even more suspicious. “Why do you want to know?”

“I want to understand you,” I said in all honesty.

Just like what I did with Yoongi, I wanted to hear Jungkook’s story. I wanted to know what lead everyone into their current feelings. Only knowing what happened with others I would be able to find out what was right or wrong.

At first, I thought Jungkook would just ignore my ask. He was erratic, difficult to approach. However, I finally noticed: he respected me. It was a mix between admiration and fear, I could tell – he knew what I am and what I can do.

It was odd. No one never feared me. In the Royal Guard, although based on the hierarchy I was just behind the General, everyone else treated me like I was in the lowest ranking. No one never displayed any kind of respect towards me, and fear was unthinkable. I was just a shadow after all...

Although I could kill all of them if I wanted. I was aware of this fact, too.

It was quite an interesting perspective.

Jungkook sat there in silence for some moments, jaw clenched. His aura felt like fire all the time – unsettled and angry. It was sad that Jungkook felt like this, because I could see that deep down, he was a good, sweet person. However, his wounds had calloused him.

I wanted to know his wounds.

“I was born as a free hybrid,” he started, voice quiet yet suppressed with a mix of anger, sadness and guilt. I could see that it was difficult for him to speak, as if there were spikes on his throat, yet he was making effort. It surprised me. How much Jungkook actually trusted me? It didn’t make much sense, since we barely knew each other. Maybe Jungkook has been alone for so long that having someone to at least sympathize with was what he needed to finally trust again. “My parents were free. We were poor, but we were happy. I didn’t know things such as pure-human supremacy back then... that is, until humans burned my village to ashes. All the adults were killed and the children were enslaved.”

Shock took over me as I heard these words. I stared at him, watched the turmoil that was his aura. The way he said that... even though he still felt pain, he was so used to it that he couldn’t even bring himself to show any reaction anymore. The pain and sadness had anesthetized him, putting him into a state of inertia. I could tell this young man hadn’t cried in a long, long time.

He was cold in the outside.

But just in the outside. His aura showed me his constant state of angriness. Jungkook was like a cursed rock; he could explode anytime.

And it was scary how I could sympathize with it.

“I have a younger sister. Her name is Heejin.” he continued, voice quiet. “We were sold to different people back then. I spent years searching for her.”

“And did you find her?” I asked hesitantly, afraid of his answer but at the same time hopeful.

Jungkook nodded and looked down to his hands resting on his lap. “I did. But... she is not the same.” He closed his eyes for a moment, as if having an ugly, painful memory. “The things she suffered, the things they did to her... it killed her inside out.”

We stayed in a solemn silence for some moments. I could imagine very well what his untold words meant. Jungkook was different from me and Yoongi: he knew the pain of loss. He already lost everything he once had, yanked from his grip at an innocent age. I didn’t understand the pain of loss. Death was nothing more than a natural happening to me. I didn’t know what it was to lose family. All dragon hybrids have little to no contact with their progenitors or any kind of information about them. I did not know my father, and my mother died giving birth – like most female dragon hybrids die.

There was a reason why so little female dragons existed.

And it also made me remember of something important that has been bothering me...

“Jungkook,” I called after some moments, trying to formulate my sentence in the most delicate way possible. “The other day, you said that your parents used to tell you things about dragons... why is that?”

It was yet another thing that made no sense. Everyone knew about The Dark Years. Everyone knew what my race did in the past. Why would his parents tell him good things such as “mighty and powerful” about us?

Jungkook looked at me, eyebrows set. His gaze darkened. Although he couldn’t hide his emotions well, in that moment I was not able to understand what his gaze meant.

And what he said next just made me more confused.

“That was the reason they died.”

I was willingly avoiding Taehyung.

It was a nearly impossible task, yet I still tried. Differently from my behavior these past months, I was covering my presence with extra care. Of course, since he could feel me through our connection using the Royal Ring, Taehyung always knew when I was near or not, but it didn’t make me stop avoiding him. I would leave the exact second my duty ended, vanishing from his presence as fast as I could. Just a few weeks ago, I would stay around him, trying to make excuses just to have a few more minutes with him...

I couldn’t do that anymore.

Being with Taehyung hurt me way too much.

I did not understand why he came to my room that night. I did not understand what the things he said meant; I did not understand why he looked at me that way, why he was so close. I simply did not understand.

But there was something I could finally understand very well:

My feelings for him were too deep.

It was more than respect and admiration. I wanted to be close to him in a way a guardian shouldn’t even consider. But I had reached a point where I didn’t care anymore about what a guardian should and should not. That inner war still happened inside of me: one side saw things with different eyes, while other side still held onto everything that was taught to me since birth. I couldn’t tell which side was winning the war.

At the same time I agreed that hybrids received an unfair treatment only in positions of subservience, me included, I couldn’t even think of leaving my guardian role. First, because it was the elves’ commandment; I, as a dragon hybrid, had an everlasting debt with the entire world, because of what my ancestors did millennia ago. Second, because Taehyung was good. He never mistreated me, never made me uncomfortable, never forced me into anything, never punished me. He showed me how freedom felt and what it was to care about more than just one person in my life.

The fact that he was so good to me was perhaps what made it hurt even more...

Yet, Taehyung was still a big mystery to me. I still didn’t know why he chose me as his guardian, why he was so adamant about it. Back then I would never question him, but I have changed. I wanted to know. I was tired of being blind and deaf, oblivious about the world around me.  

And in the end, thinking about him made me somehow angry. I was tired of him making me confused, and he never confused me as much as he did when he went to my room that night. He made me uneasy, he made feel pain, he made me sad. Taehyung was betrothed, however he still went to my room that night and stood so close. Why would he do it? Why would be so close to give me what I wanted and yanked it from me right after? Why would he make me feel like flying, just to make me fall and leave me there, crying on the cool floor?

That’s why I chose that the best for me was to stay away. I didn’t feel that Taehyung felt as affected as me because of this situation; he had Princess Sana, and he spent a lot of time with her, like his mother wished. I had to stand and watch. In these moments, I would do my best to simply ignore whatever they were talking about, whatever look they were giving each other. I paid attention to anything but them, even if it meant stare at a leaf of grass for hours straight or count every single tiny crystal that adorned a chandelier in the ceiling. I counted three thousand fifty hundred and two. Twice.

It was the worst psychological torture in existence.

“Even though he's gone, I feel that he's still controlling my life.” I kept remembering what he said that night. Now, I could understand: that was “the deal” he had with his father: in exchange of his freedom in which he traveled for six years, he promised to marry Princess Sana. He negotiated it. Taehyung wasn’t wrong, for his father was somehow still controlling his life even in death. He was put into this situation forcefully. But at the same time... I couldn’t forget what Queen Seojeon said:

Look at them, Yeri. How could they not fall for each other?

In the middle of all these chaotic emotions, I felt fear. Fear that, after every date, every dinner, every walk in the gardens, every touch and smile, they would fall for each other the way his mother said. They would start “liking” each other. Yes, that type of like.

I was afraid that Taehyung would completely forget about me.

He never even considered me this way in the first place.

I was slowly starting to hate that Princess Sana. I hated her beauty. I hated her perfect smile. I hated her smooth hair. I hated her delicacy and politeness. I hated that she could be with Taehyung the way I wanted to be.

And I learned one important thing about feelings: they hurt.  

I suddenly missed the times when my mind didn’t feel like an angry hurricane, when things were easier. They were monochromatic, but easier. I knew how to deal with simple physical pain, to ignore it, to shove it to the farthest corner of my mind; but no one never taught me how to deal with emotional pain. I was not trained for this.

I was also trained to avoid any kind of addiction, but chocolate was stronger than my training.

I munched the fourth chocolate cookie quietly, sat in the Orphanage’s kitchen. Of course, I didn’t come here to eat cookies – and I swear I tried to dismiss Zofia’s polite offer –, but the sweet scent was too much for me to bear. The woman looked more than happy to see me eating, and she wanted me to eat more.

Zofia was quite talkative, too. She was giving me random facts about Taehyung’s childhood for the past ten minutes. As if I wanted to think about him.

“Ah, but that boy is so strong,” she went on, a big smile on her face as she told me the story of when Taehyung and Jimin fell from the highest branch of a tree. “He didn’t even get a scratch. Taehyung is as healthy as a bull! I don’t remember a time when he fell sick!”

Jimin, sat beside me, narrowed his eyes at Zofia playfully. “Are you bashing me, mama? Just because I broke my arm that time and he didn’t?” he said, pretending to sound offended.

The woman laughed loudly and put her hand on Jimin’s shoulder. “Ah, of course not, Jimin! It’s just that Taehyung has a good health.”

“I always knew you preferred him. It’s because he’s the King now, isn’t it? You don’t love me more than him just because I’m a commoner?” Jimin whined, crossing his arms and pouting, but I could see it was all teasing.  

I watched as they argued-played with each other with a puzzled expression. Jimin treated Zofia as if she was his actual mother – well, she was, since he was raised in the Orphanage. It was heartwarming to see a human and a hybrid having such a loving relationship.

We heard the noise of something crashing in the living room. Zofia immediately turned around and yelled: “Mikasa! I told you to not climb the cabinet!”

She walked in that direction at heavy steps, while the whiny voices of children echoed towards us. Jimin laughed softly, watching the woman leave.

He then returned his gaze to me.

The way that man stared at people was almost as intense as Taehyung. Maybe they learned it with each other? I could tell Jimin was suspicious and somehow intrigued by me. He did not know what my relationship with Taehyung was. Yet, he chose to keep his questions unspoken – although I could see very well on his feline eyes what he thought.

“You really liked these cookies, huh?” he said, tilting his head slightly, a lazy smile on his plump lips. I also noticed how Jimin had this flirtatious attitude. It’s not as if he was suggesting anything with me – he was married – but it seems that flirting was such a natural behavior of him that he did it thoughtlessly. It was not with words, but with stares and movements instead. I was sure he could make anyone fall for him.

I would have fallen, too, if my insides didn’t feel like frost.

“I like chocolate,” I said, shrugging. Who cares about healthy diet? I, at least, didn’t care anymore.  

“Taehyung loves chocolate, too,” Jimin murmured.

And yes, I noticed very well the suggestive tone of his voice.

I decided to change the subject completely before he could say anything else, touching the paper in front of me. “So, are you sure these are all you found?”

Jimin nodded. “Yes. Seven wolf shapeshifters registered at the Tower. That’s all I found.”

I read yet again all the names and locations written on the paper. One of them should be the culprit – or at least I hoped so.  

“I still wonder why Taehyung didn’t ask for it himself, though...” Jimin murmured. I stared at him seriously.

“And you’ll keep wondering.”

Jimin laughed and shook his head slightly. “Ah, alright! I already understood you won’t tell me. But a man can imagine, can’t I?”

I shrugged again, shoving another cookie inside my mouth. The sweet taste was intoxicating.  

“Taehyung must be very busy with the Festival, right?” Jimin murmured, staring at nothing in particular. I nodded. That was partially the reason why I came here alone: the Dökkálfar Festivities would start the next day. Because of that, the Capital was already crowded.  

The Royal Wedding would be announced the next day, too, during the Festival’s opening.

I gulped the cookie almost painfully.

“There’s something I need to tell you.”

Jimin sounded serious all of sudden, what made me look at him. His expression changed, and he approached me more, lowering his voice.

“I don’t even think I should be telling you this, but Taehyung seems to trust you, so that’s enough,” he continued, now catching my attention completely. He looked behind his shoulder for one second, checking if Zofia or any other kid was entering the kitchen, but we were alone. “There is this story going on... I think that every hybrid knows it at this point.”

“Say it already!” I rushed him, getting impatient.

“A rebellion,” Jimin said, looking at me very seriously. “I don’t know much about it, but what I heard is that this rebellion is made of hybrids. They want to start a coup d’état.”

I frowned. “That’s not new. There are hundreds or rebellions through the entire kingdom.”

“No, you didn’t understand. This is huge, Y/N.” The seriousness in his voice told me he definitely wasn’t playing. “It’s spreading, and most people that knows about it support them. They are tired of the Kim Dynasty, tired of the way hybrids are treated. I would even agree with them, but... they are aggressive. And they don’t know Taehyung, not the way we do. They don’t know he is a good person.”

A cold feeling made me shiver. Jimin was right; they didn’t know Taehyung. They probably thought he was just another evil King...  

“That’s all you know?” I asked. Jimin sighed.

“Yes, unfortunately. Most people know about it, but they are being very careful. I don’t know what exactly they are planning and how they’ll make it. But please, be careful. I don’t know if Taehyung knows about it or not, but make sure to warn him. I’ve seen rebellions before... but not on this level. Taehyung has to keep safe.”

I nodded vehemently, that strong feeling of discomfort and hurry growing within me. I couldn’t stay away from Taehyung. If what Jimin told me was true...

“But, Jimin... do you know what they will do after the coup d’état?” I questioned.

Jimin exhaled deeply. “What I heard is that they will put another person to rule Ëlv’en. Someone of their choice. The chosen one, is what they are saying. An informant of mine said it is the leader of the rebellion, but he didn’t know who this person is. What really matter is: this rebellion is not just a rumor, it is real. And Taehyung is in danger.”

Taehyung is in danger.

This phrase would not leave my mind for the next days.

As I left the Orphanage (after eating two more cookies), the paper carefully folded and hidden in my clothes, I felt my mind getting more and more troubled. What if the shapeshifter I was searching for was a part of this rebellion? Their first attack didn’t work, and now they would try again. I already suspected back then that a rebellion could be behind the attack. Maybe I was right?  

The only thing I was sure about is: I had to protect Taehyung more carefully than ever. I couldn’t rest now after this new information. And I also needed to visit each of these seven people in the list to make sure they were or were not the culprits.

I ran back to the palace as fast as I could. It was middle afternoon; the streets of the Capital were crowded, as it always happened this time of the year. The Dökkálfar Festival was one of the most important dates not only in Ëlv’en, but in the entire continent, when everyone thanked the dark elves for the good harvest and prayed that they would give us an even better one next year. The festivities would last for ten days.  

It was not hard to go unnoticed during the festival, when the city was so full. I expected I would be able to enter the palace again unnoticeably...

But I didn't.  

As I entered the great gates, General Namjoon was able to see me from far. He dismissed the soldiers he was talking to and walked towards me.  

I immediately stopped and saluted.

"Where were you, Guardian Y/N?" He asked in a demanding tone. I knew Namjoon never liked me. Whenever he was at the Capital, he tried to make it very clear. As if I didn't know already...

But I was also not in the mood to be questioned.

"As you may already know, Sir General, the work policy for hybrids has changed. Now, I don't need to ask permission to leave the palace's properties during my free time, just as I did now. Since I am not breaking any rule, I don't need to answer your question regarding my whereabouts. Now, excuse me, Sir General, for I need to go back to my duties."

I bowed respectfully before leaving, not even looking back.

I could almost feel General Namjoon's angry gaze on my back. I was used to it already...

Because he knew what happened that day with his predecessor. And, just like most members of the military, General Namjoon decided to simply hate me.

It was an ugly memory I would never be able to erase.

I have just turned one quarter of cycle.

In human age, it means I am around thirteen years old.

Being honest, my routine is so busy I always forget about my age. It is something rather irrelevant for a dragon hybrid; time crawls for us at a slow pace. Although the age of thirteen is a considerable age for humans, and in some cultures it means they can do things such as get married, for a dragon hybrid, I am still barely a baby. In another words, I am weak like a baby. But things will start to change now.

I had my first bleeding two months ago.

When I woke up and saw all that blood, I almost panicked. I did not understand it; perhaps someone wounded me in my sleep? But then, I had a brief memory from my trainings in Niflheim - a special class for me, the only female. Women have monthly bleeding cycles. It means that our bodies are starting to walk into adulthood.

I don't like it. I have to clean myself all the time, and I feel dirty. It is difficult to deal with it when I use my armor and embarrassing to explain to my superiors. I am surrounded by men almost all the time, none of them can understand me or give me any aid. And what came with the first bleeding was also shocking and sudden; even though I am a baby, my physique develops in the speed of a normal human's. I have noticed how I grew in height and... well, I grew everywhere. I already had to readjust my armor three times only this year, and my clothes are becoming short.

That is not the most intense transformation in me, though.

The bleedings mark the moment a girl starts to become a woman, when their bodies are adjusting to carry the miracle of life. For a female dragon hybrid, it means more.

It is the time when the powers fully flourish and become stronger.

I can't remember how many times I destroyed things unintentionally, when I wasn't even using much strength. Magic flows through my veins in such intensity it makes me dizzy. I have dreams all the time - strange dreams that I don't understand. Suddenly, I can feel the auras of everyone around me and hear their minds, even when I don't want to, and the sensation is maddening. My sole existence became so strong that, past week, the protective spells of the palace did not recognize me; they marked me as a dangerous threat and I was almost incinerated - but it didn't happen, because not even the spells the Royal Mages put were enough to hurt me.

I don't know how to deal with all this power. I can't sleep properly, I am afraid to hurt people. There is no one to help me, no one can understand me. I have to learn how to control all this power on my own...

But what if I can't? What if because of that, my master will judge me as useless or dangerous? I will never forgive myself if it happens.  

It couldn’t have happened in worst time. We are in the middle of the Dökkálfar Festivities; the city is crowded, streets so full it is difficult to walk, and as always, the Royal Family receives many visits. I am being extra careful not to mess up things. My master won’t forgive me if I end up hurting someone during this holy time of the year.

The presence of the army is heavy at the Capital, because the city is too packed and they came to help keeping the order as usual. It also explains the presence of General Matheo. I stand inside the room patiently, waiting for his arrival. I don’t know why the General has called me here – my immediate superior is General Christopher, current leader of the Royal Guard – but I came anyway without complaints. It must be something regarding King Taejun’s safety.

I hear the door opening and turn around as General Matheo enters the room. He is a tall and strong man, not exactly old, but his hair is already grizzly. He is a respected warrior not only in Ëlv’en, but around the entire continent. His acts in the past were legendary. I immediately salute him and wait for him to speak.  

I frown.

Why did he lock the door?

“Guardian Y/N,” General Matheo starts, voice husky. “I called you here because I need you to do an important task.”

If it happened months ago, I wouldn’t have noticed. His voice sounds normal. He stands several steps away from me yet.

But now, I am able to feel auras.

Back then, I wasn’t able to feel it. I could feel when there was imminent danger around me, but nothing more. Although I still can’t control it well, I can feel people’s intentions.

There’s something wrong about Matheo’s aura.

It is condensed and rushed. If it was visible, I would say it was colored in a deep shade of purple.

I don’t like it.

I also don’t like the way he’s staring at me.

General Matheo steps closer. I can’t move, but I wish I could.

“You’ve really become something, Guardian Y/N. It’s been only some months...” he continues, his voice getting strangely low. He’s stepping closer and I start to feel terribly uncomfortable. Why exactly did he call me here?

“Permission to spe-”

“No,” he interrupts me before I can even finish my sentence. I don’t like the way he’s looking at me. I don’t like that grin growing on his lips. I don’t like his proximity. “You’ll have to stay very quiet now.”

I gasp when General Matheo grabs my wrist and pulls me close to him.

He chuckles. I start to feel disgust crawl beneath my skin as the General presses his body on mine. What is going on? Why is he so close?! But I can’t say anything, because he told me to be quiet. If a superior orders me something, I have to obey.

But this situation is unbearable.  

My heart beats fast, sweat forms on my forehead. I hate the way he’s touching me. How can I simply be quiet when I don’t even know what’s happening?

“S-Sir General, what-”

“I told you to be quiet,” he growls, lifting my chin roughly and making me look at him. Matheo has a playful gaze on his eyes. No, that’s not just playfulness, it is... it is...

It is lust.

And in the moment I feel his hand starting to slip under my shirt, I can’t take it anymore.

I want to push him away. I want to say please, step back. I want to open the door and leave. For the first time in my life, I don’t care if I’ll be punished because of my actions.

But that’s not what happens.

My palm touches his chest. I am not even using much strength.

But as I touch him, I feel the power flowing through my skin.

Everything happens in the blink of an eye, but it’s as if I’m watching in slow motion.

A gust of pure energy produces a deafening bang, just as loud as a thunder. All the windows break at the same time, glass flying in all directions. All the paintings, shelves and cabinets are destroyed; the floor shakes maddeningly. The chandelier falls from the ceiling. Shards of glass, porcelain, fibers of wood, pieces of crystal and steel – I watch everything floating in the air around me.

And I watch as General Matheo is sent flying back violently. His back hits the wall with such strength the marble cracks.

I can even hear the sound of several bones breaking all at once.

I watch as he falls to the ground, completely immobile.

I can’t move.

The entire room is destroyed.

My body shivers, my legs feel wobbly. I can’t take my eyes off of the man lying on the ground.

I just wanted him to step away.

I watch as, slowly, a pool of blood spreads under his body.

I just wanted him to step away...

I still can’t move as I hear several feet out of the room, accompanied by yelling voices. The entire palace heard the explosion of energy. My breathing is difficult, my throat is dry. I can’t blink as panic takes control over me.

I wasn’t even putting much strength...

The doors are opened forcefully, and many guards enter the room all at once, ready to fight if necessary.

They freeze.

They look at the destruction around; they see General Matheo on the floor. They see me there, standing immobile.

“What did you do?!” one soldier I don’t recognize demands. Another guard runs and crouches down by the General’s side; he searches for his pulse.

I can’t answer.

I didn’t want to do it.

“What did you do?!” the soldier repeats more angrily this time, stepping closer to me.

It wasn’t supposed to happen...

“He’s dead,” the guard says, still by the General’s body. “It killed him!”

I didn’t want to kill him.

Immediately, I am surrounded by them. They throw me to the floor violently and make me immobile, holding my arms behind my back; I don’t fight. All the guards and soldiers seem too shocked by the scene, but I feel their hatred towards me growing.

I just killed the highest ranked member of the army. Not only that; that man was a living legend.

And everyone knows that killing any member of the military is punishable with death.

I am going to die.

I want to explain things; I want to tell them what happened, that I didn’t intend to hurt him – but it seems that my voice disappeared. I doubt any of them will listen to me anyway. I hear more steps and voices and know that the hallway outside is already full with more soldiers and guards. One tell their own version of what happened to other, and to other, and to other, and it has already spread. But they still don’t understand what happened.

They just want me dead.

I stay right there, my body smashed against the cool marble floor full of debris, until all soldiers open a gap for someone to enter.

King Taejun.

I shiver in fear.

He looks around, looks at the corpse, looks at me.

“What happened here?” he asks, voice demanding.

“Your Majesty, General Matheo was murdered by that... thing!” one soldier starts to explain, pointing at me angrily. All men around start to murmur in agreement, sending me wrathful gazes – but they stop the moment King Taejun lifts his hand.

“I didn’t ask you,” he reprimands, making the soldier lower his head. My master then looks at me. “Y/N, what happened here?”

The entire room is now silent, waiting for my answer.

Slowly, I lift my head with struggle and look at my master. I shouldn’t, but I do.

I have the opportunity to defend myself well, to convince everyone around me. But I am still too shocked, too confused. I use all of my strength to stutter:

“H-He tried to touch me, Your Majesty.”

And I stare at him deeply.

I stare at him in a way I never did before.

King Taejun’s face is still as impassive as always, but I see something changing on his eyes. And suddenly, I know: he understands what happened.

He nods and orders: “Leave her.”

The soldiers around gasp in unison. “B-But, Your Majesty- it killed General Matheo!”

“Don’t question me, soldier,” King Taejun reprimands, voice spiteful. Against his own will, the man holding me back finally lets me go, and I start to lift myself slowly.

King Taejun looks around to every soldier inside the room.

“Listen well, all of you,” he starts. The room and hallway are now completely silent, his voice echoing. “If any of you try to do what Matheo did, I give her full permission to do the same thing she did to him. Is it clear?”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” all of them say. I look at my own feet, completely shocked at the turn of events.

“Good. I don’t want anyone outside of the military to know about this; the Dökkálfar Festival must keep peaceful. You all, clean this mess. Contact the next General according to the hierarchy.”

And with that, King Taejun leaves as if it is a simple issue not worthy of his full attention.

I can’t believe what I just saw. King Taejun stood by my side for the first time. My master – he understood me, he defended me.

It is also the first time in my life I heard him addressing me as “she”.

As a person... not a thing.

Not a monster.

It was also the last time King Taejun did it.

Because of that incident, I held a terrible reputation inside the military. Most soldiers didn’t know exactly what happened – they just knew I killed General Matheo, an honored warrior, a role model. He was treated like a hero until the end.

After that day, I started to hate any kind of physical contact.

But it was no time to think about something that happened so many years ago. I had to concentrate in my current duty – one I didn’t know if I was ready to bear.

It was a common tradition regarding royal weddings. As a vow of trust and to prove the union between the kingdoms, guardians switched masters for a short period of time, until the day of the ceremony.

It meant that, starting now – the day of the announcement – until the wedding day, I would have to watch over Princess Sana instead of Taehyung. Although Princess Sana wasn’t crowned yet, meaning she did not have a guardian, Yuta – King Satoshi’s guardian – would fulfill this role and watch over Taehyung in my place.  

I would have to follow her.

I had been trying to get ready for this moment, but I wasn’t sure if I would be able to make it. Not after I saw her with Taehyung so many times. Not after this gruesome feeling about her grew inside of me.

But I had to do it anyway, and it just made the wound inside my chest get deeper and deeper.

As I approached her room, I felt my heart tightening even more. It was a mix of sadness and anger; anger of the entire situation I was put in, and just pure anger towards her. Would I be able to live around that person for so long? Although the wedding ceremony would happen soon, I couldn’t say I would be able to survive this torture that seemed to be worse than days of physical punishment in the dungeons.

I could already hear the cheers of thousands of people at the principal square in front of the palace, waiting for Taehyung to officially kick a start in the festivities. The palace and the Capital were decorated accordingly. There was this happy feeling everywhere, especially at the palace – partially because of the Festival, and also because of the new worker-policy. I, in the other hand, felt horrible, almost as if I was barely an empty shell, just watching everything quietly yet not being affected.

However, I could not let my feelings disturb my duty. I had to remind myself all the time of what Jimin said; the city was full of travelers that came every year to celebrate Dökkálfar here, many foreigners. It could be easy to infiltrate and start an attack this way. Although I would be watching over Princess Sana, I had to protect Taehyung, too. I couldn’t tell the truth to Yuta, so he was unaware of the real danger, even though he was a competent guardian.

I stopped in front of Princess Sana’s room.

There were two guards in front of it. They promptly opened the doors, already knowing I had permission, and I entered.

I had to hold my breath for one moment.

Princess Sana was sat near the window, while a maid made some adjustments on her hairstyle. And she looked stunning: she was wearing a long dark-brown dress with black gems woven on it, the traditional colors of the Dökkálfar Festival – the colors of soil, the colors of the dark elves. Everyone else was wearing attires in similar colors to please the dark elves and bring good luck, yet Princess Sana was be able to stand out in the middle of a crowd. Her hair was half braided and decorated with tiny white flowers; she also used black gems on her earrings and necklace.

Her beauty did not fail to amaze me again.

I just felt angrier.

The women inside the room did not notice my presence for long moments. Princess Sana chatted with the maids lightheartedly. I did not know any of them, because they were Sana’s personal assistants that came from Vanaheim. After some moments in which I stood at the back of the room unnoticed, all the maids left.

Except for one.

She stood near Princess Sana by the window.

“Today’s the great day,” the maid said, sighing. Princess Sana nodded softly. “How are you feeling?”

“I don’t know exactly,” the princess admitted, looking down at her hands resting on her lap. I frowned; she did not sound excited, as what I supposed she would feel. Her aura was unsettled. And I saw something very similar of what I saw in Taehyung; an invisible weigh on her shoulders.

“Hey,” the maid said softly, and took Princess Sana’s hands on hers. “Everything’s gonna be fine. You are strong, you can make it.”

“I appreciate your efforts, but I know you’re lying, Dahyun,” the princess said, opening a sad smile.

“I am not,” the maid, Dahyun, said emphatically. “You are the strongest person I’ve ever known. People will love you. And... you look beautiful today.”

Princess Sana’s smile became more genuine.

And they stared at each other.

I started to feel like an intruder; the moment between them feel too delicate, too intimate. I didn’t want to interrupt it, but at the same time I couldn’t help but look. Their auras... they had a similar feeling. They felt like a soft shade of pink; it was almost like their auras were in tune.

I only got more confused when hints of tears appeared on Dahyun’s eyes, and she had to look away.

“I’ll leave you now,” she said, voice wavering only slightly. Princess Sana nodded. “You’ll do amazing today. I know it.”

“Thank you,” Sana said, almost a whisper.

They still stared at each other for some moments before Dahyun left. Looking at her leaving felt like looking at a withered flower.

I didn’t understand exactly what happened there.

Princess Sana sighed and looked at the window. It was very different from what I’ve saw from her up until now; she looked small... lonely. Sad.

It was against my conduct code. I had to be unnoticeable for her. But I just didn’t care about conduct codes anymore.

I coughed slightly to sign my presence, pretending I had just entered her room, and bowed respectfully.

“Your Highness, my name is Y/N. I am Ëlv’en’s Royal Guardian, and I will be serving you for the upcoming days,” I said.

The princess looked surprised. “You are the guardian?”  

I nodded. She measured me from head to toe oddly. “Yes, Your Highness.”

Princess Sana then smiled, and I could tell she wasn’t forcing. “That’s a relief. I prefer being in the presence of a woman. I hope that our convivence will be friendly from now on.”

Oh.

Unexpected.

“Today’s the announcement day. We have a lot of work ahead,” she said, staring at the window again.

I noticed the exact moment her smile shadowed with sadness; that smile did not reach her eyes. She just looked plain sad. Why hadn’t I noticed it before? Princess Sana looked always so joyful during her time with Taehyung...

Or perhaps that was what she wanted everyone else to think?

I shifted, slightly uncomfortable. “Are you feeling unwell, Your Highness? Should I ask for the aid of a healer?” I asked. Maybe she was just nervous. Humans tend to feel sick when nervous.

She shook her head slightly, that sweet smile never leaving her lips. “No, it is not necessary. Thank you for your concern.” Her voice truly sounded like birds chirping in the morning. Princess Sana sighed deeply. “I am just... thinking.”

“Is my presence bothering Your Highness at the moment?” I questioned, ready to leave if she wanted, but the princess shook her head again.  

“No.” She wasn’t looking at me again, staring down at the crowd at the front square instead. She kept quiet for long moments. “We must do what’s necessary for the greater good. Even if it hurts us sometimes.”

I frowned, not understanding exactly why she was saying that. I could see it was like she was talking to herself, not to me. The tone of sadness and resignation on her voice was so deep it made me feel a pang.  

“I understand very well how it is, Your Highness,” I said. Why was I even chatting with her in the first place? Princess Sana looked at me and quirked one eyebrow.

“You do?”

I nodded. “A guardian has to give up on every personal desire in order to follow this path,” I said.

That’s all I have been doing my entire life. I did not let myself show emotions, caging them deep down inside of me. I did not let myself show the affection my two only friends deserved. And now, I had to resign myself to watch the man I had feelings for get married with another person.

The ache in my chest was overwhelming.

Princess Sana nodded. We looked at each other – yes, I knew I shouldn’t - and I saw something I wasn’t expecting: I saw empathy. I saw similarity.

Sana could understand me very well.

“I wish us both strength to bear what’s about to come,” she said softly. I knew she was being sincere. “Something tells me we are going to get along well.”

Suddenly, I didn’t hate her as much as I did a few minutes ago.

We heard a knock on the door and a male voice saying: “Your Highness, the opening ceremony is about to start.”

Princess Sana sighed and got up from the armchair, adjusting her long dress. “It’s time. Let’s go.”

I nodded and followed her from behind. We walked quietly to the principal balcony where it was usual for kings to make speeches, right in front of the principal square. Queen Mother Seojeon, Princess Yeri, King Satoshi and some Council members were already sat on their respective places; but he was still standing behind the curtains...

Taehyung.

He wore all-black, from head to toe. The only color came from the blue of the sapphires on his crown and Royal Ring. I should be used to his beauty already, but unfortunately I wasn’t.

The first person he looked at was me, standing behind Princess Sana.

His gaze had so many emotions I could barely decipher. However, he did not say a word to me. Taehyung looked at Sana and nodded. “Are you ready?”

The princess nodded, but after seeing her some minutes ago, I wasn’t sure if she was telling the truth. “Yes.”

Taehyung smiled and offered his arm for her to take. They looked at each other encouragingly and stepped into the balcony.

The immediate roar of the crowd below filled my ears as I entered the balcony too beside Yuta. We stood very quietly by the door. I expanded my senses, trying to track any bad intent coming from the people around; I knew the exact position of every soldier and guard. The security system was heavy, but I couldn’t let myself relax. I could feel at least fifty thousand people just at the square, and the entire Capital was listening. Humans, hybrids, rich and poor.

Princess Sana sat by Queen Seojeon’s side and Taehyung walked to the railing, waving to the people. We were high. He was scared of heights...

Taehyung lifted his hand for a moment, and the entire crowd went silent, waiting for him to start his speech.

“First of all, I want to thank all of you for coming here today,” he started, his voice echoing. Everyone could hear him thanks to a simple spell that equalized his voice throughout the main square and the entire Capital. Millions of people were hearing him speak at that moment. “We are at this holy time of the year again, in which we thank the dark elves for the blessings they gave us. I am sure all of you are anxious for me to officially start the festivities – and the good food that comes with it -,” the crowd laughed at that last sentence, “but before we start, I have some important announcements to make.”

He looked back.

For one second, our gazes crossed.

It was so brief, yet I saw in his eyes guilt. I saw sorrow. I saw... resignation.

His aura was painted with pain.

But our eye contact ended as quickly as it started. He looked at Sana and nodded; the Princess got up and approached him, standing by his side.

My fists tightened behind my back.

I wasn’t strong enough to watch that.

“I am sure all of you already know Princess Minatozaki Sana from Vanaheim, our great ally,” Taehyung said. He took her hand gently.

I wanted to look away, but I couldn’t. I had to watch intently.  

All these days, I was hoping for something to happen. Anything that would cancel this betrothal. I was hoping that Taehyung would change his mind, that King Satoshi would give up on his idea – I waited for literally anything. But now, it was too late. Now, they would announce it to the entire world. They couldn’t go back on their words.

I swiped the tears away before anyone could notice.

“In this moment, we are happy to announce that, in three weeks, we will officially get married.”

The crowd roars in unison. Populations always love royal weddings. They don’t even care about what it truly represents. Princess Sana looked beautiful as she smiled and waved her hand... I already knew it, but I was sure she would be able to make an entire kingdom fall for her.

“Me and Your Majesty Kim Taehyung will work hard to make the bond between our two kingdoms stronger than ever,” she said, her voice too being equalized. She said something more, but my brain wasn’t processing it properly. They looked beautiful together... Queen and King. It was the perfect arrangement.

I fought the urge to cry more.

“We have yet another announcement to make,” Taehyung said, making the crowd get quiet again.

He looked at Sana and she nodded, stepping back. I heard a quiet commotion around me.

“What is Taehyung doing? It wasn’t on the plans,” I heard King Satoshi whisper hurriedly to Queen Seojeon, that just stared at her son’s back in fear.

I frowned.

“I am sure all of you heard about my travels these past months,” Taehyung started, voice serious. Everyone listened quietly, clinging onto each word he pronounced. “I visited each city within Ëlv’en. I wanted to become close to you, to know what are your concerns, what we can do to make your lives better. And, during my travels, I saw a situation that can’t be ignored anymore.”

Adrenaline started to rush through my veins. Was he doing what I thought he was...?

“Ëlv’en is great and powerful. I am sure all of us are proud to be ëlvians. However, we don’t resemble a powerful kingdom anymore, for one thing still lacks: justice. In my travels, I saw poverty and famine. I saw people being enslaved with no chances of freedom. I saw pain and suffering. How can a kingdom be great if its population is suffering? How can a King be good if he can’t take care of his own people? That is why, in front of you all, I announce that Ëlv’en will take a step further, out of the darkness.”

The commotion around the balcony continued; the counselors looked at each other in pure confusion. Taehyung was acting by himself? He didn’t tell anyone what he was about to do?! My heart was beating fast in expectation...

“I can’t keep living knowing that children, women and men are enslaved simply because of their race. Ëlv’en will only become a great kingdom when all of its inhabitants have fair and equal conditions. That is why, from now on, I will start a battle against slavery. It will not be an easy task; many will be against me,” the gaze he sent the counselors was so fierce it made me shiver, “but it will not stop me. With your support, I will not rest until every ëlvian hybrid has their freedom; I will not rest until every poor person has good ways of living. I am the King, and as the ruler, I am here to serve you – not otherwise. With all of you by my side, I am sure we’ll be able to build an Ëlv’en that has never been so strong, and we’ll become a role model to the entire continent. I will not rest until we are in a world in which humans and hybrids will be simply saw as people, and all of us will walk into this path of light, together. All of us will be free!”

The moment he finished speaking, the crowd started to roar again.

It was twice, three times louder than before. I watched, speechless, as people yelled at the top of their lungs, as a thunderous applause made the floor beneath my feet shake. It was the longest and loudest cheer I’ve ever saw; it seemed to be going on for minutes.

The Council members stared at Taehyung in pure shock.

The King had a smile of triumph on his lips.

“The Dökkálfar Festivities are officially opened. May the elves guide us!”

I should be used to Taehyung making me feel like I couldn’t breathe. In that moment, more than ever, I realized how I would never be used to it.

He just declared war against the entire Council and his own family.

And, to fight this war, he already had the support of millions of people – and soon, more than half of the population of Ëlv’en.

He was playing dirty.

As Taehyung himself said: I never run from a fight.

The palace was even more euphoric, if that’s possible.

It was a tradition that, during Dökkálfar, the servants – workers – had permission to celebrate as well. It was also traditional of the Royal Family to share a great banquet at the city and to distribute food during the ten days of the Festival. The cooks worked with no rest for days until all the food was ready for the banquet of the opening night, and would not stop working for the days to come – but now that the work was done, all the workers were free of their duties until the next day.

The huge back courtyard near the service area was decorated, there were many tables full of food, barrels of wine and juice of all flavors. It wasn’t as full as it used to be in past years, because now the workers could leave and enjoy the Festival freely at the city, but many of them stayed anyway – like me, that didn’t have anywhere to go.

I was sat on a wooden stool in an almost hidden spot, a near empty glass of juice on my hands. I watched as Chuu danced in the middle of the courtyard with her friends. Like everyone else, she used a brown dress and tied her hair in two pigtails. Although the music was loud, I could hear her laughter. I’ve never seen Chuu so joyful...  

Yoongi seemed happy as well, and it was honestly a heartwarming sight. I knew very well he was not a cold or emotionless person; Yoongi had just learned to act this way because he suffered too much during his life. Seeing him smile like that and talk to his friends made me feel happy for him. Happy for everyone around me...

Taehyung’s speech spread like fire in a forest. I was sure it had already reached neighbor cities, although it has been only some hours since he made the announcement. Most hybrids overall were more than happy, as well as poor people. Many humans were also pleased by the news; not everyone had any kind of prejudice against hybrids and also thought that slavery was unfair. But I also heard many suspicious people, not believing Taehyung was telling the truth and that he only said it to increase his popularity. In fact, people couldn’t talk about anything but this subject.  

But I knew that many were angered by Taehyung’s speech and what it represented. Even though the population supported him, the people of power – the ones who could actually make changes – would be against him, for prohibiting slavery would be prejudicial for them.

He started to walk a dangerous path.

Yet, although what he did meant only good news for me and the ones of my race, I could not feel much happiness myself.

That wound inside myself was throbbing, bleeding. Taehyung had announced his engagement with Princess Sana. It would inevitably happen; now, it was more real than ever. In three weeks, they would get married. After the wedding, it is expected of the King and Queen to have heirs...

I flinched momentarily in disgust.

Not only that. In a few weeks, I would reach the full dragon adulthood. The right age.

My deal with Hoseok.

I didn’t know if I was brave enough to explain it to Taehyung...

I sighed, feeling tired. It wasn’t physical tiredness, though. I felt that my brain – and my heart – had received too much information recently, and I didn’t know how to deal with most of it. Everything was so foreign and new...

I closed my eyes. The fact that I was surrounded by happiness but couldn’t feel happy myself was horrible. At that point, I just wanted to go to my room and sleep during these free hours.  

I just wanted things to become less complicated for once...

That’s when I heard someone sitting by my side very quietly.

I didn’t even need to open my eyes to know who it was. But I did it anyway, and stared at him in surprise.

“They seem happy,” Taehyung said, voice very quiet. He didn’t wear his cape and crown anymore. The shadows made his face look somber somehow.  

Nervousness immediately hit me all at once. We hadn’t interacted since that night. His sole presence beside me was enough to make my heart warm and ache at the same time.

“What are you doing here, Your Majesty?” I asked, immediately feeling my body stiffening. Taehyung shrugged slightly.

“Celebrating this kind of date with royals is boring. I prefer this,” he said, pointing to the scene ahead with his chin. People were dancing happily in the middle of the courtyard, some of them very ungainly due to the excess of alcohol.  

A strange feeling grew inside of me. I could tell Taehyung wasn’t relaxed the way he used to be around me. Why was he acting as if nothing happened, as if nothing between us has changed? It started to anger me.  

“They are going to notice you,” I said, crossing my arms.

“Not if we stay here.” Taehyung sighed, his eyes still scanning the small crowd. He looked tired in a way I’ve never seen before. I already noticed how Taehyung seemed to display fragility in front of me, but that day it made me somehow shocked.

I’ve never seen Taehyung look so small and fragile.  

“That one with pigtails is Chuu, right?” he asked, pointing in her direction, and I nodded. A small tired smile grew on his lips. “She’s wearing the bracelet.”

“She never takes it off.”

We fell in silence for long moments. Slowly, the smile on his face disappeared. His half-lidded eyes, shoulders heavy, the way he was sat so carelessly with his legs spread – everything about his demeanor showed tiredness, concern and... sadness.

A very similar sadness I saw in Princess Sana.

A very similar sadness I felt myself.

“Do you think I did the right thing today, Y/N?” he asked very quietly after several moments.

“Of course you did,” I said without even thinking twice. “Don’t you see how happy they are? Although it didn’t happen yet, you brought happiness back to the hybrids.”

Taehyung looked at me for the first time, gaze piercing with something I couldn’t quite decipher.

“I’m not talking about this."

My breathing failed.

He was talking about the marriage.

I immediately avoided his gaze, feeling a hotness spread up to my neck. Why was he even asking me this? Only if he knew how much it hurt me...

“What are you doing here, Your Majesty?” I asked again, staring at him intently, my voice becoming hard.  

Taehyung looked at me in silence for some moments. His gaze never failed to make me waver. “I wanted to see you.”

My fists tightened, my heart beat increased. “Why is that?”

“Because I miss you.”

Yet again, I was dazed because of his straightforwardness. But I couldn’t let myself drown on it. “I am around you all the time. Why would you miss me?”

Taehyung opened his mouth as if to speak, but then he closed it again. He stared at me deeply, analyzing my features. I tried not to waver, to keep firm.  

He then said, voice barely audible:

“Because I miss the way things used to be between us.”

I avoided his gaze, once again feeling that my heart was being smashed. “Don’t say that.”

“But it’s the truth.”

My eyes closed tightly momentarily as if I was in pain. I was sad, I was hurt, I was angry. I was tired of his mysteries, of the way he always made me so confused. Didn’t he understand how it hurt to hear him saying such things, when he didn’t feel the same as me? He didn’t miss me the way I missed him. He made my heart flutter in a way it shouldn’t, especially because he would soon get married.

I just felt shattered. So shattered that I was not able to control myself anymore.

Taehyung shifted closer to me – too close for me to think properly. I widened my eyes immediately as I felt his fingers touching my cheek very gently.

I didn’t even notice I was crying.

Taehyung stared at me in silence, pure sadness and sorrow on his eyes and face as he wiped my tears away. I just stared back, too weak to move, too weak to fought the urge to keep crying. It felt that everything around us was suddenly distant and blurred – the loud music, the voices, the laughter – as if we were inside a bubble that kept us away from the world outside.

“Y/N,” he whispered my name weakly, voice fragile, just as fragile as it sounded that night when he came to my bedroom. He inhaled deeply, and it looked that even speaking was difficult to him. “I am so sorry. I... I shouldn’t be so weak.”

If I had strength enough to speak, I would have asked why he was apologizing. But looking at his eyes, it felt for a moment that he understood why I was suffering. Again, it was a kind of sadness very similar as Princess Sana’s...

We must do what’s necessary for the greater good. Even if it hurts us sometimes.

We all suffered from the same pain.

Taehyung gulped, his Adam’s apple bobbing. I felt small and fragile because of him, and it was strange that I was beginning to feel solace because of him, too.

“I don’t know what hurts me the most,” he whispered after some moments, his eyes never leaving me. “Being away from you... or being with you.”

Neither of us moved. I didn’t understand what he meant, why he was saying such thing. But, just like that night, I didn’t want that painful, confused and bittersweet moment to end.

I didn’t want it to end...

But my peripherical sight caught a small movement.

At first, it didn’t bother me. But my eyes focused on something behind Taehyung’s head, several meters away, at the back gates, the service entrance and exit.

It was barely a silhouette in the shadows. Sitting there, watching us from the darkness. Resembled a dog...

No...

It wasn’t a dog.  

All of my instincts awakened in the blink of an eye.

It was a wolf.

I immediately got up and touched Taehyung’s shoulder; a green sign started to shine on the spot where my hand touched – a rune. It meant protect. He looked up at me, confused.

“Y/N-”

“Get inside the palace, now!” I screamed to him.

I made eye contact with the wolf for one second. That thing looked like a simple animal, but these intelligent eyes couldn’t lie to me. It was in fact a person.

A shapeshifter.

The wolf turned around and started to run.

And I ran after him.

I ran without looking back not even once, adrenaline rushing through my veins. With a command of mine, the gates opened with a loud noise. The wolf was fast, running down the road towards the crowded city. I couldn’t let it escape. That person was the proof we needed, the possible culprit behind Taehyung’s attempted murder. It wouldn’t escape from me.

Without stop running, I evoked an Earth spell; the rocks under the wolf’s paws started to crumble and explode, what made the animal fly in the air and land violently again. However, it got up and started to run again. But I noticed that I managed to slow it, and blood already stained its grey fur. That thing couldn’t be able to run away from me. Shapeshifters are masters of disguise, not of fight.  

It was slowing down even more; I was getting closer. I expanded my mind towards it, wanting to reach it; if I could control its mind, it would immediately stop and I could see the identity of the culprit. I did not try to be delicate, forcing myself inside of its mind with all my forces; the animal growled in pain and flinched.

I was reaching it, both physically and mentally. Some more steps and I would touch it. Some more seconds and I would invade its mind and know who that person was.

So close...

A wave of pain so strong I feel my entire body getting rigid.

I screamed and fell to the ground, rolling several times on the dirt.

My hands held my head, gripping my hair. The pain was so strong it felt as if someone literally hammered my skull several times. I squirmed and groaned, my mind so confused I didn’t even know anymore where I was, my vision white; I couldn’t see anything. It was so painful I felt as if my mind was starting to fade away.

I have no idea how much time it took for me to come back to my senses, for my vision to focus again, for that pain to cease and to remember what happened.

Someone entered my mind and made a psychic attack so strong it almost teared my consciousness apart.

I stumbled, trying to get up, my clothes dirty, my chin wet with my own drool. I looked around, anger starting to take over me.

“No!”

The wolf was nowhere at sight.

I tried to run towards the city, just to fall again. I got up, tripping and dizzy, my head still aching too much, my members tingling. I had to find that shapeshifter. I couldn’t let it escape...

But I reached the city, and it was too full of people. The constant noise of music and voices seemed to penetrate my skull like arrows. There were too many people. That person probably already shifted into their human nature again and camouflaged inside the crowd.

I was so angry that I wanted to scream.

I lost them. I let them go.

And the most shocking part is that someone was able to attack my mind. The well-trained mind of a soldier. The almost impenetrable mind of a dragon hybrid.  

Someone was watching us from up close, the same people that tried to kill Taehyung.

And these people – whoever they were – were much more powerful than I ever imagined.

Nobody is safe anymore.

[alxvensxoul]

1-100 because im mean.

1. Are you a virgin?

I mean technically I am? I have done things but I have never been penetrated. And that sounded so wrong to say it that way but “gone all the way” made me sound twelve.

2. Does anyone besides you know your bra/penis size?

My sister does. 

3. Do you know anyone who has any STDs?

I don’t think so. 

4. Were you married when you first lost your virginity?

Again, technically a virgin but no because I have never been married. 

5. Do you swear under celibacy?

No

6. When did you first lose your virginity? If you haven’t, when would you like to?

When it happens it happens. 

7. Have you ever gotten tricked into aphrodisiacs or alcohol for sex?

No

8. Have you walked in on someone masturbating/having sex?

My darn sister!

9. Have you ever seen someone masturbate or have sex with their permission?

No. How awkward!

10. Where is the weirdest place you have had sex?

We didn’t have sex but in the backyard at home my ex boyfriend and I… explored eachother. That doesn’t sound any better. 

11. If you had to chose one, would you have outdoor sex or car sex?

Outdoor. Car sex sounds uncomfortable. 

12. When was the age you first masturbated? Whether you knew it or not?

Not long ago..

13. Have you ever helped someone “finish”?

No

14. Have you ever had an erection in the past month? (clitorial counts, too)

I guess? 

15. When was the last time you have had an erection? (clitorial counts, too)

I don’t know

16. Have you ever had an erection and someone noticed?

Nope

17. What is your method of masturbation? (ie. toys, clitorial, prostate)

Ok so.. my sister bought me a toy. Its a little pink thing that vibrates and for the longest time I didn’t touch it. Until I did.. 

18. What is your bra/penis size?

I am a B cup. Not too much..

19. Has anyone seen your private parts other than yourself or a family member?

Yes

20. What is the strangest thing you have ever put up your vagina/anus?

That toy my sister bought me

21. Do you like rough sex or intimate sex better?

I imagine I would like intimate sex but who knows until you try right?

22. When was the last time you masturbated?

A couple days ago.

23. When was the last time you had sex?

I haven’t

24. When was the last time you watched porn?

Uhhh….

25. Have you ever bought a sex toy? If so, which one did you buy last

I didn’t’ buy it, stephanie did. I don’t know what its called. 

? First sex toy? If not, which one do you plan on buying when you do?

My sister bought me this little pink one. 

26. Guys: Circumsized?

N/A

27. Which not-genital part of your body do you like being touched?

My shoulders

28. Which genital part of your body do you like being touched?

My breasts…

29. Girls: Are you able to achieve orgasm just through breast stimulation?

Never tried

30. What color/type of underwear are you wearing?

They are pink and lacy

31. Have you ever sent someone a picture or video of you in the nude? Did it include sexual actions?

NO

32. Have you ever posted a picture of image of you in the nude on a website? Did it include sexual actions?

NO

33. Have you ever anonymously sent/posted a picture or video of yourself in the nude? Did it include sexual actions?

NO

34. Have you anonymously sent a sexual ask to someone on tumblr?

No

35. When was the last time you have had a wet dream?

I dont know. I don’t ever remember having one

36. Which wet dream was your favorite?

I dont remember ever having one

37. Is there a friend you would willingly have sex with?

Yes

38. Is there a celebrity/character you would willingly have sex with?

Dont we all have one?

39. Have you ever masturbated with someone?

No

40. Have you ever took a shower with someone that is not a family member?

No

41. Favorite sexual position? If you are a virgin, which position interests you?

I dunno. Something intimate with lots of room for kissing

42. Do you like being called a slut or whore in bed?

No i would hate that

43. Are you into any BDSM?

Thats kind of scare. I don’t like pain so i don’t understand it. 

44. Have you ever wanted to have sex with someone but knew you couldnt for any reason? Why?

I mean sure. We all have someone we would sleep with but can’t for some reason right? Maybe they’re a celebrity. Maybe they don’t know you exist. Maybe they don’t see you that way. 

45. Turn on’s?

Tall boys, deep voices, goofy personalities

46. Turn off’s?

Smoking, being rude, being too forward

47. Have you ever had a sexual fantasy about someone? Was it about anyone other than your lover?

Yes and I don’t have a lover so yes. 

48. Have you ever had phone sex? Video sex? Chat box sex?

Nope to all

49. What was the weirdest thing that has ever turned you on?

Oh god. Probably a guy in a bathing suit. It wasn’ that weird, it just came out of nowhere. 

50. Do you like dirty talk?

I think it would be sexy

51. Are you loud or quiet during sex? Masturbation?

I am kinda loud….

52. Have you ever been inturrepted during sex or masturbation? Who/what?

My sister’s cat jumped out of my closet and scared me

53. Most embarressing sex/masturbation story?

See above. Stephanie walked in and saw what i was doing. 

54. Most hilarious sex/masturbation story?

Again, see above

55. What kind of porn do you like to watch?

Romantic, sensual stuff. But its never very good. 

56. First type of porn you have ever watched? (ie. lesbian, hentai, threesome)

Some scary hardcore stuff stephaie showed me. 

57. What was the most recent type of porn you have ever watched? What category was it under?

Hardcore. My sister is weird

58. Most hilarious/stupidest porn you have ever watched?

Most of it is terrible

59. Have you ever fantasized over someone older than you? How much older? Younger? How much younger?

Yep. Just a few yeard older

60. Favorite sex toy (if any)?

My little pink one. Its the only one i have 

61. Have you ever had to break up with/divorce someone because you weren’t satisfied with their sex?

No

62. Have you ever used anything/gotten any surgeries to improve sexual performance/feel?

No

63. If someone you knew asked for a nude image, would you do it? What about a tumblr follower?

nope

64. Have you ever told someone any wet dreams/fantasies you’ve had about them?

No! why would i tell them

65. Do you like to have sex like they do in pornos?

Nobody has sex like that or at least i hope not. 

66. Have you ever confessed to someone that you got an erection over them? What about masturbated to them?

No!

67. Are you able to be secretive when you masturbate? (like able to be quiet so no one can hear?)

I have gotten pretty good at it but i don’t do it a lot

68. When was the first time you achieved orgasm?

I never have

69. Is there only one way so far that you have been able to achieve orgasm? (ie. only by using toys, only from 1 positon,only from masturbating a certain way)

Again, never have

70. Favorite type of oral?

I have only ever experienced one. That night in the backyard at home he.. well it was nice. But it didn’t last long. We were afraid we would get caught. It only happened that one time. 

71. Strangest sexual positon you’ve tried?

I havent

72. Have you ever made up a sexual postion?

No

73. Girls: During sex, vaginal or anal?

I haven’t done either but nobody is putting anything up my butt

74. Girls: During masturbation, clitorial, vaginal, or anal?

See above 

75. Do you like to be dominant or submissive?

Submissive 

76. Have you ever masturbated to someone?

No

77. Have you ever masturbated because your sexual partner wasn’t there when you needed them?

I don’t have a sexual partner

78. Have you ever had a one night stand? Do you still keep in contact with them?

No i haven’t had one

79. Have you ever had a friends with benefits? Are they still beneficial?

No. That seems stupid

80. Have you ever had sex with someone who wasnt your partner?

No

81. Has any of your partners had sex with someone else?

He probably did. My ex. 

82. Have you ever gotten pregnant? Were they your lover’s or someone else’s?

No

83. Birth control or condoms?

Both

84. Do you ever masturbate to porn?

No its weird

85. Does anyone know you masturbate? Did you have to tell them?

My sister

86. Did your parents ever find out you were sexually active?

Yes

87. Do you have any STDs?

No

88. Have you ever masturbated to a fictonal character or celebrity?

No

89. Have you ever had sex during “7 minutes in heaven”?

No

90. Spit or swallow? Or do you not like oral?

I haven’t done either but I feel like if its already in your mouth you might as well swallow it. 

91. Have you ever been rejected for sex? Have you ever rejected someone else?

I rejected my sisters ex boyfriend who tried to hook up with me while they were dating

92. Do you have someone who said they are willing to take away your virginity if you havent lost it by a set age or if you just want to have a good time?

Nobody has told me they wanted to

93. Have you ever experiented with the opposite sex?

Yep

94. When you first lost your virginity, was it intended or spontanious?

I havent yet

95. Has anyone ever walked in when you were taking a shower with someone?

No

96. Did you ever tell someone once you lost your virginity?

I will tell Stephanie when it happens

97. Does your lover know if you have masturbated?

I don’t have one

98. Does your lover know that you want to have sex with them but cant?

Don’t have a lover 

99. Do you like masturbation?

Yes sometimes

100. (Asker’s ask) If i were to ask you if we could have sex, would you say yes?

Honestly? Probably. I hope that doesn’t make you think differently of me. 

[oceanwriter]

@originalficfest - Day One

[WWII Story]

Intro | Day One | Day Two | Day Three | Day Four | Day Five | Day Six

The Characters: (Beginning of story)

Marjorie Borchert: (Protagonist/Narrator) Age 14. Born in England, raised half her childhood in Germany before moving back to England just before the start of World War II, Marjorie is no stranger to the hardships and evil of the world. She is quiet and kind. After the death of her parents, she is sent by her guardian, Mrs. Barrow, to live with a family in the northern United States. She does not respond well to being taken from her brother, George, but is powerless against it. Despite the strong onset of sadness, anxiety, and loneliness, she tries to make the best of her situation, albeit, not without many fantasies of leaving to be on her own. 

Beatrice Reynard: Age 13. Always known to be the most stubborn child in the Reynard household, Beatrice (‘Bea’) is anything but welcoming when Marjorie arrives. Unfortunately for Marjorie, she must share a bedroom and classroom with Bea. School proves to be the worst as Bea goes to great lengths to ensure Marjorie is unable to make any friends.

Daniel Reynard: Age 16. A hardworking, respectful young man strongly taking after his father, Adam, both in personality and appearances. He picks up on Marjorie’s unspoken demons before anyone else (with the possible exception of his mother, Martha). Daniel becomes Marjorie’s protector, though she often wishes he would let her fight her own battles.

Laura Reynard: Age 4. The youngest of the Reynard children, she easily accepts a new friend in the house, especially as her older siblings don’t have much time for her anymore. Normally shy, her parents are shocked by how taken she is with Marjorie. Marjorie is happy with her company, thankful for the opportunity to live out some of the parts she’d miss in her own childhood through Laura.

Eleanor Reynard: Age 18. The eldest of the Reynard children, Eleanor spends a lot of time away from home as she’s beginning to set out on her own life after finishing high school. She is strong-willed and determined with a clear vision of how her future will play out, unfortunately not leaving any room for life’s unexpectancies.

Franklin Reynard: Age 9. Ever inquisitive, he is fascinated by Marjorie’s life back home and grows irritated when she doesn’t want to tell stories. He is by far the most rambunctious Reynard child, always coming home with torn trousers and some sort of creature in his pocket.

Adam Reynard: Age 43. A veteran of the first World War, Adam sympathizes with Marjorie’s hardships, however, does not speak of his time in battle. He puts much pride into his work on the farm, never letting anything get the family down. He’s devoted as both husband and parent and is a firm believer in making life fun even when things start looking hopeless.

Martha Reynard: Age 40. Busy taking care of her family and running the inner parts of the farm, Martha seldom has time outside of the property. She seldom complains, though does find herself becoming stir crazy from time to time. Her biggest goal is to keep peace in the household.

Patricia Barrow: Age 72. Mrs. Barrow, as Marjorie refers to her, is a wealthy, stuffy old woman who lives in the English countryside. Having watched Marjorie’s mother grow up and kept in touch up until her death, Mrs. Barrow is named Marjorie’s guardian thanks to an informal Will. Wanting to leave England herself for a while, Mrs. Barrow brings Marjorie overseas, connecting her to an American family she once knew.

George Borchert: Age 17. There’s no one in the world Marjorie looks up to more than her brother. Born with a need for adventure, he willingly goes into battle against the Germans, though he hates knowing his little sister is left behind. He promises to keep in touch, so when Marjorie has trouble getting in contact with him, she naturally assumes the worst.

Prompt: “Create something that reveals a character or shows character development.”

I’ve been thinking about maybe adding some journal entries here and there. I’m not sure if I will use any in the final product (or I’ll rewrite them into the main story) but I think this prompt is a perfect time to try one. This also gives me the opportunity to create and introduce a new character.

Monday, 3rd June, 1940

I thought the first week of school would be the most difficult. So far the second is proving more of a struggle. Mrs. Reynard is beginning to question me more about my days. I refuse to let on of Beatrice’s bullying. As long as the others in the house continue their kindness I can manage the hours at school. One girl, I believe her name is Nikita. I remember because I remember liking the sound. Only a few of my classmates names stuck in my memory. I know the name of Beatrice’s friends but haven’t memorized who they are by appearance. I’ve seen two of Beatrice’s friends bothering this girl. Her lack of reaction tells me they haven’t got along for some time.

Aside from this unpleasantness I’ve enjoyed being back in school immensely. The work isn’t too challenging, although I didn’t realize how out of practice I am with maths. Not that it was ever my best subject. Tomorrow the class will be presenting book related projects. I am excused as I didn’t join until last week. I don’t understand why I must attend school when there are only a few weeks left in the year. I would have preferred staying home and helping Mrs. Reynard then join when autumn lessons begin. Maybe I wouldn’t have stood out as much then…

On my way home today I found the library. I will ask Mrs. Reynard in the morning if she minds if I stop there before coming home in the afternoon. I’ve reread both of the books I brought twice now. It will be nice to read something new.

[lenucciagreco]

the loved ones

an anon sent me a prompt a hot minute ago to the effect of “Richard is a total know-it-all, but especially about Jared.” this is... sort of about that but mostly tries to answer some other questions i had about their relationship, Jared’s life offscreen and outside of the Pied Piper bubble, and also how “normal people” would feasibly treat the both of them.

that said, this is VERY MUCH lighthearted wish fulfillment, so, pretty average stuff from me LOL.

words: 3,096

content: Richard is bi and bad at communicating, a lot of Jared headcanons that probably contradict the writing, some OCs i was forced to make up to properly tell this story that also definitely contradict the writing.

He has elderly friends. He actually has elderly friends. This is fine.

Richard tries not to visibly claw at the armrest of the tiny wing chair in the corner, a thousand afghans and granny-square blankets draped over its back. He wouldn’t usually picture a house like this as belonging to people named Muriel and Eloise, but as he always has to remind himself, this is Northern California, and the tiny, dour church ladies he’s used to are few and far between.

“So, what was it you said you did again, dear?” this unsettlingly kind woman with the oxygen tank asks him, her hands wrapped around a steaming mug of herbal tea. “I know Donald said something about—”   

“Richard and I met through work, Muriel,” Jared cuts in, his expression growing more tense. Maybe that’s just in his imagination. “Actually—well, I’ll embarrass him if I say this, but he inadvertently rescued me from the bad situation I was in before. At Hooli.” 

Muriel pauses, and then her face suddenly lights up: “Of course, of course. He’s told us all about you.”   

The other woman (her wife, who he’d first introduced to Muriel years ago, as Jared explained in the car) steps away from the cutting board she’s been zeroed in on for the last fifteen minutes, and leans against the kitchen island. She’s younger than Muriel—maybe in her late sixties—and hair is cropped and dyed black, almost auburn in parts, the sleeves of her denim shirt rolled to her elbows.   

“This is that Richard?” she asks, regarding him with a stiff smile—as if to show him she isn’t hostile, but not much more. His stomach turns. “Donald, you two haven't—”

Muriel reaches for her walker and stands up, unwavering in her cheeriness. “Eloise, won’t you help me pick out something from the cellar? And we should really start getting the table ready. Can you two finish with the salad?" 

“Of course,” Jared says. His face is calm again, but he can tell he’s close to yanking him from the seat by the arm, already preemptively apologizing for bringing him here. Richard stands up and smiles at him in a way he hopes is reassuring, and goes to the kitchen. 

His last date before all of this, what feels like ages before he willingly got in a car headed to a ranch in Sonoma, was also his all-time worst. It was an actual get-your-number-and-go-to-dinner type date. It was with some girl named Hannah; a freelance web designer who used to work at Hooli, too, although they’d never met before. It had been going well on the whole, until his mind jumped to the worst possible thing mid-conversation, something stupid like right, gastronomy just means the study of food and culture—my friend Jared actually knows a lot about— 

“You mean Jared Dunn? That guy always kind of gave me the creeps.” 

“What?” Richard picked at his dessert, trying to look casual. “I mean—why’s that?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” she said, “something about his demeanor always just bothered me.”   

“That’s funny,” he said, then caught himself. "Or—well, it’s not that funny, but I understand. He really is a great guy if you get to know him. It’s just that people don’t always, um…respond well to him?” 

“He seemed nice”—she repeated this word as an afterthought, free of any actual meaning—“just not very good at picking up on social cues.”   

“God, you just described everyone I know.” It was meant to be a joke, but he was the only one who laughed. He sloshed the wine in his glass, a tiny purple stain dotting his thumb. 

“And the oversharing,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “Some people are okay with it, but for me it was just—it’s too much.”   

“It’s not for the attention, though,” he says, his tongue starting to feel heavy from the wine. “Not like everybody else. It’s like—he thinks he needs to give a disclaimer to everyone he meets, 'hey, I’m kinda fucked up and have a lot of trauma but I’m fine!’ Don’t get me wrong, some of the stuff he tells me, just offhand, is insane. But he’s a literal genius. Like Jesus Christ, he’s a walking encyclopedia on naval history, 19th century American poets, the DSM—” 

“You know a lot about Jared,” Hannah said, quietly.   

“Um.” Richard put his glass down. "Yeah, I guess I do.”   

He saw the waiter come down with two more drinks and, mercifully, the check.

“I’m so sorry,” Jared starts, the second they’re alone. “I didn’t tell you everything when we were in the car.”   

“It’s okay,” he says, “just—what did you tell her about me that made her hate me?”   

“Eloise doesn’t hate you. She’s just a little protective of me. Really, she’s like this with everyone I bring over.” 

“Jared.” He leans both elbows onto the counter and looks him in the eye. “What does that mean.”   

“It means,” Jared says, absurdly calm, “that she's like this with everyone I bring over, Richard. We do this dinner every year, and she always has something to say about my guests. It has nothing to do with us.”   

Richard notices the tips of his ears are red. He decides not to prod anymore, even if the answer just makes him feel worse.   

Instead he steals a sliver of cucumber off the cutting board and chews it. He feels the urge to make himself useful in the kitchen, but Jared’s stonewalling him by standing at the counter, shoulders squared, slicing the tomatoes at a worrying pace. He can’t help but think he looks just like Eloise minutes ago, right down to the posture. 

When he sees a person he cares about in pain, he mirrors them. Richard knows that. He also knows she can’t be his birth mother, because she died when he was twelve. When he told him this, at four a.m. lying face to face in a bunk bed, Richard reached out his hand and pulled it to his chest.   

This is not good. It’s fine. They’re going to be fine.   

A huge, bony cat butts his head against Richard’s ankle and slides past him. He’s counted three. It yowls up at the counter, probably well aware of the biggest pushover in the room. But Jared doesn’t fold. 

“It’s not for you, Bartleby.” He scoops it up in his arms, a heap of gray fur and flailing paws, and attempts to hand it off to Richard. “Can you take him outside? Please?”   

He can’t really say no, so he gets a good grip on the cat and heads out the screen door. When he gets outside, Eloise is standing on the patio, uncorking a bottle of wine.   

“He doesn’t let everybody hold him like that,” she says, nonplussed. As she says it, Bartleby slips out of Richard’s arms. (What an awful name.) “He’s a little anxious.”   

“Me too,” Richard says. It’s a joke, but not really.   

“So how did you meet Donald?” she asks, cutting through whatever fifteen layers of bullshit he was operating on. “Why do you call him that other name?”   

“Um.” He stops, realizing he’s never had to even really confront the issue. “When I met him, that’s what he told me his name was, and it just stuck—I mean, he’s never asked me to switch. Are you saying that I should?”  

“I don’t have any opinion on what you should do,” she says, and he physically feels himself get knocked down a peg or two realizing this is far from the first time she’s had this conversation. "I just expect you to treat Donald well. He has a knack for getting manipulated by other people who don’t actually value him.”  

“I’m not one of those people,” he says. “He’s really helped me. Through a lot of awful shit. And—he’s told me, you know, things about himself—”   

“He tells everyone his things,” Eloise says. “Anyone who’s willing to listen.”   

“Like—the real things.”   

“Like what?”   

Jared steps out onto the patio, salad bowl in his hands. “Everything’s ready. Where should I put it?” 

The first thing he did after the worst date of his life, after climbing apologetically out of a Lyft, was make a beeline to the garage. Jared was there, and awake—he almost always was at that hour, back then. He was under the cheap duvet, on his laptop, leaning against some milk crates.

“How did it go?”   

“Jared,” he said, staggering to the air mattress and kneeling at the edge. “I fucked up.”   

“Oh.” He shut his laptop and sat up straight, watching him crawl closer. Richard was sure he was trying not to touch him, not to physically engage at all, expertly restrained. Always so respectful of his boundaries, always Richard’s needs before his own. “What happened? Did something go wrong with Hannah?”   

(In hindsight, he seemed a little too eager to ask.)   

“I—just realized I need to stop fucking kidding myself,” he blurted, feeling blindly for Jared’s knee. Was he crying already? It felt like it, on his face. He was pretty loaded. “I need to stop. Stop pretending.”   

“Pretending what?”   

“That—you’re not the person. The person I want to be with.” He could barely understand himself, he was sobbing so loudly, probably sounding ridiculous. “But it’s so stupid and impossible that I have to lie to myself about it.”

“Richard,” he said, hands suddenly on his shoulders, dead calm. “You’re very drunk.”   

He saw right through him. Something about his placid denial, the insistence that nothing was wrong, enraged him in that moment. “I see you looking at me all the time. I notice everything, dude, so don’t just fucking pretend you don’t want this—”   

“Richard.”   

He tried to lean in, writing checks he can’t cash. “Please. Just tell me it’s possible.”   

In some far-off fantasy world Jared could have just dropped his scruples and they could have fucked right there, on that awful air mattress, with his head two inches from the concrete. But instead he just grabbed both his wrists and held onto them, forcing Richard to go still.   

“I do. I do want it.” He looked him square in the eye. “But I don’t really think it should happen like this. Do you?”   

It wasn't a rhetorical question. Richard pulled his hands away—he wasn’t holding on that hard��and considered his options. Then he shook his head.   

“Okay. Is there anything else you want to tell me?”   

“No.”   

He cleared his throat and put his head down, on the corner of the pillow. Because there’s some fucking good left in the world, Jared slipped his arm around his shoulder and pressed his lips to a spot beneath his eyebrow, and neither of them had to say a word. 

More people start to trickle in, some of them names Richard actually recognizes—Muriel’s daughter and tiny blonde grandchild, aunts and distant friends that seem oddly excited once they find out who he is. Jared does a lot of the talking for him, anyway, and lays it on thick (probably to apologize without ever having to say anything.) Richard’s a Stanford-educated engineer; Richard’s got a brilliant mind; you two would find a lot to talk about. But before he even scratches the surface with anybody he gets whisked off to someone else.  

Which is just as well, really. He’s never good with strangers, and as usual, Jared took steps to circumvent it, steps Richard wouldn’t even think to take. Maybe he is like every other schlubby boyfriend he’s brought over.   

Muriel rings some kind of New Age dinner bell, loud and clangy, and everyone gathers around the outdoor table. It’s beautiful, actually—the backyard stretches out for what looks like forever, a wooded path not far down the hill. Once Richard finds his seat, he glances up and suddenly sees Jared pouring him a glass of wine. 

Something about the whole image is just weird. The only thing that comes out of his mouth is: “Oh. It’s white?”   

“Red wouldn’t go with this meal,” Jared says, “technically. You’re at a table of oenophiles that would say so.” 

“Right.” He already feels a little disoriented.   

“Not a big wine drinker?” Muriel asks.   

“I like it, just—” 

“That’s quite alright. It’s meant to be enjoyed with food,” she says. “This is from our vinery. We only serve what we make to friends.”   

“And Trader Joe’s,” Eloise says.   

“And Trader Joe’s. But that’s just to keep the lights on. Should we have a toast?”

The wine goes down light and easy, perfect for an amateur like himself. Eloise, spearing a few pieces of vegan gnocchi, addresses him from the other side of the table: “What were we talking about before, Richard?” 

“Whatever it was,” Jared pipes in, “I’m sure the rest of the table wouldn’t find it very interesting.”   

Of course, everyone but the three of them are caught up in other conversations. Richard looks around for some other kind of lifeline that he knows does not exist.   

“It was about you, Donald,” she says, perfectly genteel. “Just—that you two had gotten to know each other quite well in the last few months.”   

Jared knits his brow, his voice pitching up the way it does when he’s upset: “We’ve known each other about four years.”   

“I know,” Eloise says, “but this development is recent?”   

He turns to Richard, but it seems like he’s already made up his mind by the time he looks at him. “About six weeks. I don’t know why it’s so important.”   

Even she backs off after that, but Richard can tell it’s with great restraint. “Forgive me. I was just curious. Especially after the conversations we’ve had before.”  

“Eloise, it feels—really unnecessary to bring that up,” Jared says (easily the harshest thing Richard's heard him say to someone he cares for.) “Of course I forgive you. But I—” 

“No, you’re right, this is total bullshit.” Richard pushes his wine glass away from him, a little stunned at the words coming out of him—but he feels stone-cold sober and fed up with watching this same scene play out. “Jared’s a grown adult. He can make his own decisions about who he wants to date without screening them for you.”   

“Richard,” he says, his hand suddenly clasping the top of his arm, “it’s not that. She’s talking about something I said before—” 

“It doesn’t matter what you said, like, upwards of a year ago. I was probably a massive dick to you back then.” He feels eyes on him, but keeps going anyway: “She’s just using your words against you. It’s manipulative as shit and I’m not playing along with it.”   

Suddenly the table is quiet. Muriel asks, slowly: “Is everything alright, dear?”   

Richard shakes his head, pushing his chair out and standing up. “No. Sorry, I should—I should go. Sorry, everyone.” 

He hears Jared say his name, but it’s too late. He makes a break for it into the woods.

Somehow he managed to steal the rest of the wine from the ice bucket, too. He’s already made enough of a prick of himself that he figures it can’t hurt. So there he is, wandering on someone else’s property with a bottle of Sauvignon blanc. At the bottom of the hill is a tiny river, snaking a few miles down—he finds a swing chair hanging from a tree and falls back into it, just now noticing he’s half in the bag.   

Jared’s not far behind, of course. He secretly hopes he’ll turn around and prolong this conversation for as much time as possible, but the sound of his voice, his footsteps get closer until it’s unavoidable.   

Then he’s standing behind him, hand on the back of the chair, steadying the rope. “Are you okay?” 

“Why are you asking if I’m okay? I just fucked up twenty people’s evening when I was supposed to impress them.” 

“I don’t care about impressing anyone,” Jared says. “Eloise—helped me a lot. I owed it to her, for you two to meet. That’s all.”   

“Well, she met me,” Richard says, mustering a completely inappropriate laugh. “What did you say about me before that was so bad?”   

He sits down beside him. “Just that I—talk a lot and I wasn’t sure if you listened, always. But I know that’s not true now—”   

“Of course it’s not true.” Richard turns to him. “Jared, I remember everything you tell me. Like how you’re a Pisces and prefer regular Cheerios to fucking honey nut. Like—how in the tenth grade you had to memorize 'O Captain, My Captain' and it stuck with you forever. You used to daydream about sailing away from wherever you were but you were in landlocked Pennsylvania so you didn’t even see a boat in a harbor until you were nineteen and took a bus to the Jersey shore, but you kept saying you were going to the shore because that was the only thing you heard people call it, you didn’t even know it was in New Jersey until you got there. You love children. And animals. And anyone who listens to you which means a ton of shitty people take advantage of you, or they treat you like shit because they don’t get it. 

"Your favorite book is Moby Dick because you like stories about the ocean and—I don’t know, you probably relate to the whole thing of chasing something aimlessly and having it haunt you every day of your life until it kills you, but I don’t want it to kill you, Jared, I just want you to be well-adjusted and fucking happy—”   

He stops him. “I am happy. I’m happier than ever with you. Always.” 

“I’m sorry,” Richard says. “I shouldn’t have said all that. I made a prick of myself in front of people you really wanted me to meet. And you worked so hard to try to make them like me—I fucked up whatever chance we had.”

“I don’t care what they think.” Jared reaches for his hand, looking strangely giddy about all of this. “I mean—I do, but I care more about you. About us.” 

“There’s an ‘us’ now.” He doesn’t say it out of skepticism—it’s something closer to relief. 

“Yeah.” There’s a pause as he slips his arm around his waist, a troubled expression when Richard doesn’t answer, even as he leans heavily into his side. “You do know that. Right?” 

“I know.” He stares out in front of him, at the dappled sunlight and soft grass, in this place he knows he’s no longer welcome in, and squeezes Jared’s hand. “Is it okay if we go home?” 

“Of course,” Jared says. They do not move. 

[roidespd-blog]

Chapter Thirty : MY OWN STORY

This is the end of our journey. I could have ended it with a one-two punch Stonewall-Pride extravaganza but I’m going with a more personal coda, if you’ll indulge me.

A BOY’S OWN STORY

I haven’t always known I was Queer. I guess there were signs — how I would prefer to play with my sister’s barbies than with my own construction toys. How I could be extra sensitive with benign day-to-day details or the fact that by the age of five, I knew “Pour que tu m’aimes encore” by Céline Dion by heart. “So Alex, you’re a faggot, right ?”. That’s what a schoolmate said to me during recess. I said “No”. I was 10. I didn’t know. How did he know if I didn’t know ? Is sensitive a synonym for gay, even when you’re too young to even have pubic hair ?

I started masturbated at the age of 12 and it didn’t took long before my thoughts were directed towards the male body. I ignored it and pretended it was just my mind wandering in unexpected and irrelevant places. I would do my dirty business with La Redoute catalogues, looking at the male models in underwear then switch to their female counterparts at the very end when I knew I was close. Same thing with my imagination. Penelope Cruz was my go-to fantasy beard. I was ashamed of my sexual orientation. Worst, I was ashamed of it before I could understand it. That’s the tricky part : society doesn’t teach you how to be Queer but sure makes you aware that it’s not the norm.

I didn’t know what gay was. In movies, homosexuality was always depicted through huge clichés, what I called in my articles the “Cage aux Folles” dogma. I couldn’t identify. Or maybe I rejected the notion very quickly and swore never to approach this level of absurdity. Internalized homophobia before you even understand what internalized homophobia is.

I fell in love with my first boy when I was 14 years old. He was 2 years older, not that handsome (back then) and so unattainable. I’ve known that dude my whole life. For a long time, I said to myself that one-sided love wasn’t love. I do not believe that anymore. Feeling are valid whether they’re reciprocated or not. Of the five men I fell in love with in my life, only one didn’t love me back (and another is still TBD). But he’s the man I loved the most. The pain that followed was real and undeniable.

I didn’t act on my feelings towards boys until college. In high school, I told myself I wasn’t gonna do anything with anyone until I knew for sure what I was (laugh). I turned down a couple of great girls, one became one of my closest friend in this world. There was one incident involving a girl faking drunkenness in order to inspire pity and having her ways with me at a birthday party. I was… 15, I guess. I was not into it.

A shy boy, I socially bloomed in high school due to my involvement in drama classes and a new “fuck-the-world” attitude I cultivated through a longer hair cut and a collection of converses of every color imaginable.

The day I found out I graduated from high school, I went to town with a few friends. We (barely) drank and had our PG fun. There was this boy. I didn’t know him at all as he was a friend of a friend. I was very intrigued by him and made sure to present to him what I considered my best self (mute and mysterious, I guess). When it was time to go home, we all packed ourselves in my friend’s tiny car. There wasn’t enough space for all of us so the guy was lying on floor in the back, myself in the middle seat. I don’t know what got into me, but I started putting my fingers under his shirt and caressing his lower back. Gently, like an accident. When he didn’t react, I went further. That’s when I felt his fingers on my ankle. As I got to explore more of his back, he quickly went up my pants and caressed the entirety of my leg. So erotic, you have no idea. He was the first to go home. We didn’t exchange phone numbers but he sure helped me get IT. Once alone with my friends in the car, I said “I like boys”. That was it. The electricity I felt all around my body was unchallenging. No one was shocked. No one cared. Back to our regular scheduled programs.

HOW TO BE A GAY MAN IN FOUR LESSONS (OR MORE)

The first and only real mistake was trying to define myself through my sexuality.

My first boyfriend was… let’s call him Paul. Paul was the sweetest. A very short, very elfish (not healthy, ELFISH) little dude that tried his best to give me space in our relationship to explore myself. I said tried. I was willing to lose my virginity as a bottom but it wasn’t meant to be. I became a top. Oh, but it is a nice memory. It is so rare to be a gay man and lose one’s virginity in a good way. He introduced me to his friends who found me “too country” and “fat”. Do we have to talk to each other every day ? Are nicknames necessary ? Do I love you or do I prove constantly that I love you ? Coming from a broken father/son relationship, affection towards men wasn’t easy shit. Lust, yes (though a restrained version of what lust can be). Feelings were there but I found myself incapable of materializing them the way Paul wanted me too. I broke up with him. We got back together. He then broke up with me. Back together again. We called it quits soon after. Too many variables freaked me out. I was an 18 year-old who knew nothing, Jon Snow style.

I met a couple more guys, experimented with casual dating and hookups, bottomed (wasn’t my thing). Then I met Thomas — I’m not even going to invent a name. That bitch needs to be called out. I fell madly in love with Thomas. Five days in and we said “I love you” to each other. That relationship made me come out to my mom. I just didn’t realize that I was being manipulated into loving someone. He made an effort to be extra needy and to push my Superman complex to the max. After falling for him, he told me he visited several psychiatric facilities. He tried to hurt himself more times that I can honestly remember. By the time our relationship ended, I was more a nurse than a lover. I broke up with me after he cheated on me with someone else. But not just cheat. It went from a Friday night “I’m gonna see a friend for the weekend, it’s been a while since I saw him. It’s gonna do me some good” to a Monday morning phone call “Well, he wasn’t a friend. We slept together, now I love you both and I don’t know what to do”. I made it easy for him. By Monday night, pictures of him with the other boy was all over his Facebook page. Thomas broke me in pieces. And I’m not even gonna talk about me going to the police for harassment months later. Triste vie.

That’s when I became a whore.

Not immediately. It took a few weeks of crying to go in that direction but then I was full on. I quickly moved to another city and for the next three years or so, I slept with everything with a dick that moved. Short guys, tall guys, fat ones, skinny ones, effeminate dudes, masculine cunts, three ways, public, top, bottom, ALL. OF. IT. I was unable to feel anything for those guys (some were great and deserved a lot more) but damn, did I fuck them. All of them.

I learned a lot from that time period. First, I can be great at certain sexual things. Won’t tell you which ones. Second, it gave a lot of satisfaction mixed with a sense of true emptiness. I ignored the emptiness back then but I knew why I felt satisfaction. It wasn’t the orgasms. It was a feeling that I was doing exactly what I was supposed to do AKA being a gay guy having lots of sex. I saw it on TV. I saw it in porn. I knew it to be true. I was being the right kind of gay. 22 and still stupid enough to believe it.

When I moved to Paris, I fell in love twice. First with the city. Second with Pierre. In a way, he was the best of them all. Unfortunately, we met at the wrong time. Remember, I was a whore. Not that I cheated on him per say, but the need was there. Paris was giving me so much more land to cover. I met friends that partied hard. I started taking drugs. Lots of them. Festivities would last three days in a row. Sometimes four times a week. I lost 25 pounds just by being poor and high. Meanwhile, I was living a fantastic relationship with a somewhat adult man. I moved in with him for a couple of months. He was a painter and being with me helped him find inspirations. He bought me a note book and pushed me to start writing again, encouraged me to reach my full potential. But fuck my life, I had to make a choice : domesticity with this great guy (who had already been through what I was going through) or FPD (Friends/Party/Drugs). I broke his heart and entered a downward spiral. I went back to my whoring ways. I went all races, all ages, all sizes, just… all. I even was in a weird throuple for a few weeks. Drugs were taking a toll on my health and my friends weren’t supporting me the way I needed too. Six months after the break up, I reserved course. I cleaned my act, found a new job, moved into a new apartment by myself, cleared my phone from those friends’ numbers. This part of my life taught me two lessons : That I could be loved and valued for exactly who I was and that I could throw in all away for the sake of living that sweet Parisian Gay Life.

I met Jack at a time when my life was going really really well. I had been accepted at film school, I was making new friends from work, I had a perfectly stable life and newly-found good spirit. I do believe I inadvertently seduced him by singing Taylor Swift’s Blank Space at a party. I fell hard for that man. I viewed him as the perfect specimen, the epicenter of everyone I went through in the past seven years. I willingly gave him everything : a place to stay when he was looking for a new apartment, my time, my heart, my soul. I wasn’t able to keep anything for myself. It was all for him. Although I knew from the start that I was getting fucked, I didn’t care. He never loved me. Why ? That’s for another story and perhaps for him to tell you. He didn’t leave me heartbroken. He left me destroyed. To a point where I didn’t recognize myself. I’ll say it again : D.E.S.T.R.O.Y.E.D. That’s what happens when you give so much and receive so little in return. My friends had to pick up the pieces and didn’t know what to do with them. Neither did I. I went back to whoring for a short time but this time, it got dark, y’all. I fucked the wrong people. I put myself in the wrong situations. I took the wrong drugs. I kept on wrecking what was left of me.

LIFE IMITATES ART, ART IMITATES OTHER ART, ART IS ART, LIFE GOES WITH WITH FLOW.

For the following two years, all of that cured me of love and sex. I didn’t/couldn’t want either. I focused on my work.

I started writing and directing short films that talked about love between two men (a musical fantasy), how one can destroy oneself by not accepting who one is (a one-shot suicidal fantasy) and finally, a 16-minute movie about trying to figure out your place in the Queer world (my masterpiece, easy to say, right?).

In retrospect, what I couldn’t do in real life anymore (exploring and answering questions), I did it in fiction. In Faggot (and Other Semantics),there are themes of homophobia, internalized homophobia, clichés, dating apps, sex, violence and identity. I’m not saying it’s the greatest movie of all time, but it’s good. That’s why it’s so heartbreaking that I still haven’t finished it.

I used the excuse that I didn’t have enough money. Well, no I have some money put aside thanks to my friends. I though to myself that I was just lazy but fuck, I proved to myself this past month I wasn’t. So, I’m scared to finish it. Not just having to move on artistically (though it is a big part of the fear) but also, It’s kind of the end of a journey. Well, a big chapter anyway. The movie was made when I was the most wrecked version of myself. I touched subjects that are so personal to me and felt like I finally got some answers out of my questions. Finally…well, I don’t know. I went back to thinking I’m a lazy cunt.

Since then (two years), I did something every Queer person should do : I’ve explored our History. I started making research for Faggot back in 2016. I bought a couple of books, mainly “Faggots” written by Larry Kramer and “Le Rose et Le Noir” written by Frédéric Martel. The truth is, we don’t know our History. How can we ? History tried to erase us time and time again. And when real tragedy stroke, people who couldn’t have shared this History were let to die. Unlike all of the other communities, Queer people are not born into a Queer environment. Humans from all races and backgrounds are raised and can receive heritage from their peers. Some of that heritage are in books you get to read in school. What History book talks about Stonewall ? None. We, as Queer people, are cursed with the task of reinventing ourselves generation after generation. Is it so surprising then that we keep on losing ourselves along the way, trying to figure out our identity ? I had to go and search for information, nothing was giving to me openly. I’m so glad I did.

Learning our past taught me so much about how to live my present. That’s why I started to write these articles this June. I wanted to give my fellow Queers a metaphorical anchor to throw into this ocean we call Life so that they can take a closer look at the world that came before, the one that is being built right now and perhaps, what’s to come. It’s a small gift. The best I can do with my restricted reach but here we are.

Today, I told you about my own story. I came back to it with all that baggage from years of research into my Queer Heritage. I see things a bit more clearly now. In the hopes that maybe, if you deem it necessary, you will be able to do the same.

I’m signing off. Yours Truly,

The Queer King.

[sa1ntj]

They say that I am lucky.

I’m studying in an exclusive school, I have a car, and living independently. They say I also have the face that could get what she wants; a face that would make doing a favors easy. 

Yet, what they didn’t know was the hollowness from deep within, burrowing my soul and leaving me nothing but ashes of the burning memories of happiness. The nightmares that kept me awake and just cry in the middle of the night.

Nobody asked if I ever wanted to have this life.

All they ask is: “Why don’t you get yourself a boyfriend?”

What they didn’t know is I am so broken within that nobody will love these cracks that are hidden from the naked eye.

And whenever I tell them that, I was rewarded by a laugh and “You can’t possibly be depressed. I’d give anything to have your life.”

What they didn’t know is that this life they’re trying to have is a life of lies and betrayal. A life that has feared living and commitment.

When did it start, you may ask? I am not sure. I just woke up one day that I realized I feel so empty. 

I was 8 when my parents fought in front of us about issues we still cannot understand—at least that’s what they said. They were screaming and crying and throwing hurtful words at each other, words they never really meant. Then there would always be the agony of choosing between either of them, and it was always a torture, seeing the pain in my mom’s eyes whenever I choose my dad.

I was 9 when I heard my father admitted an affair with other woman. “She makes me happy,” his voice still echoes in my ears. “She was the one who was there for me when all you did was argue and point out my flaws.”

I didn’t understand. I was still young. I was supposed to be an innocent young girl with dreams and fantasies and fairytales, but all those were shattered into several pieces.

Everything fell into a flashback—about how he told us his story as a child who was abandoned by his parents and he well never let us feel the same pain of loneliness; about how I waited for him every night to come home with my favorite chocolates, and ended up sleeping on the couch. He’d kiss my forehead; carry me to bed, and the next morning I’d lie awake magically in my bedroom.

I was 10 when he eloped with his other woman. All of a sudden, he stopped coming home. All of a sudden, my mom would wake me up and tell me that I should go to my room because it’s past two in the morning and he’s not coming back. He won’t be there to carry me around or bring me chocolates or buy his promised toys.

Nights became weeks and weeks became months. I got tired of waiting. I stopped waiting. I forced myself to get used with his absence, with every school event that he’s not there, with every morning that he won’t drive us to school, with every night that he won’t be sleeping with us.

God knows how hard I prayed for a father when the wind was whistling and the storm became stringer. When the flood went rushing inside our house and there was nobody to assure us that everything would be alright.

He was the first man to break my heart.

Who would’ve thought that that event would lead to more.

I was 16 when I started seeking for the attention I’ve lost; when I first had a boyfriend. All he did was to make me feel important and make me feel loved, yet it was so foreign, it scared me. We broke up because of my inability to stay fully committed.

 At that age was when I fully realized that I was afraid of getting married, to be of burden to someone, to break my future children’s heart.

I was afraid.

I was miserably afraid.

I was 17 when my dad took us back with the promise that he will stay with us. I was filled with hope, finally I can see a light.

He lied.

He forced me to meet his new family—the person who destroyed my life in a snap of a finger. The person who took everything from me—freedom, happiness, right belongingness… family. She was enjoying it all when it wasn’t really hers to begin with.

 He was there when they were celebrating birthdays, Christmas, New Year and all the special events that should’ve been celebrated with me and my brothers. 

I was given the responsibility to look after my little brother. All the frustration of not being able to go to college of choice because of my responsibility. The lack of belongingness in the home of my own family, the jealousy towards my friends living a life of their own choice, the betrayal of my dad’s words, the longing for love… for a family. I wanted to end this bullshit of a life.

Trust me, I attempted to. A lot of times.

Now which one is better, to be able to feel the pain, or to feel indifferent when you know something is wrong. 

I was 18 when everything changed. I met this guy. It felt natural…magical even. With a few words, we instantly clicked as if we were really meant to happen, as if I’ve known him for a very long time. For the first time, I considered it love. For the first time, I really opened myself up to someone, showed him how vulnerable I am, trusted him with what was left of me.

I believed that he was the one of the good people that I need to treasure. He helped me in my growth and educated me about the things I do not know about. He helped me decide what kind of career I want to build, and gave me new pair of eyes. He encouraged me to find a therapist to treat my mental health issue. 

For the first time, I saw a man in my future.

You’ve been hiding in fear all your life, I once said to myself. Now’s the time to risk.

But then, same old shit. Life fucked up.

I was on the verge of exploding with different strong emotions;

Loathing.

Self-hatred.

Resentment.

Antipathy.

Vengeance.

I have kept myself together for years, and every fucking time I try to give myself a chance, they take advantage of my vulnerability.

Death was the only thing in my mind. Thinking about it gave me peace, happiness, and odd satisfaction. I was so determined to die, but never wanted to break my mom’s heart because of my desire for tranquility.

I am done with my life. I am done with respect. I am done with trust and I am done with love.

And love? Love is bullshit. It’s an illusion human created just to believe there is something worth living for.

My life is in no direction.

“Just fucking kill yourself,” another voice whispered in a dangerous tone. 

It was a soft whisper that mixed with the whistling of the wind. And that voice… was mine.

All at once, the voices stopped. There was nothing but deafening silence. Exhaustion was running after me and finally caught up, making my legs feel numb. This is the part I hated the most, because in this silence, I wasn’t sure if I was still alive. I wasn’t sure if I still want to be alive.

Living with depression allowed me to master how to keep my emotions inside me, to wear a mask of difference every single day when I am really dying, to smile without showing a bit of anxiety. 

I can keep my emotions inside me, I can wear masks of different expressions but you wouldn’t know how dead I already am.

I was slapped of that reality. I was stuck here - stagnant. 

Dead. But not really.

Just in between of living and dying.

They call my soul unholy, but I burned willingly in the arms of each of my sins and exhausted steam out of my loneliness.

I am now 20 years old, and the only difference is I am an emptier person. I have endured everything in my past, but what happened to me in the past year, I cannot endure.

How do you save yourself from you? How are you supposed to tell someone what’s wrong when you don’t know it yourself? When there are a lot of voices inside your head?

I’m an empty soul trapped in a broken body.

I wish I could just shut my mind down, for a second, a minute, even a whole life time. Because then, I’d stop. That’s the thing about it, you no longer control your thoughts. They control you. And that’s something not everyone understands.

It’s easy for others to say, “You’ll get over it.” or “You’ll be fine, just stop thinking about it.” when they don’t know how badly you want to stop thinking about it. How badly I want to be okay, to say the least.

I never wanted to be a burden to anyone, so as much as possible, I avoid them. My emptiness is contagious; I’m afraid people will start seeing the world the way I do. Aside from that, I am so afraid of being left behind, which is ironic, because I didn’t want to have anyone.

That’s where I’m good at anyway, to push people away just to save my own.

Depression isn’t about being sad. It’s about being empty and not knowing how to stop. And I honestly don’t know which is worse. It’s easy to wake up every day when you’re looking forward to something. When you see the end of the sea, when you see your direction in life, and when you know which way to row; but if the sea is blurred with clouds and thunder and lightning that your mind produces, it’s hard to even breathe, let alone live.