#today i learned that a friend of mine has been in her own journey of bisexuality | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

daechwitatamic · 2 years ago

Text

II. My Devotion's Been an Ocean || KNJ

(banner by @/itaeewon)

Title: My Feet to Follow, and My Heart to Hold (Masterpost)

Rating: NSFW - minors dni

Genre: college!au, roomie!au, angst, s2l, the absolute slowest of burns

Pairing: Namjoon x female reader, unrequited Taehyung x reader

Beta'd by @/kookstempo @/casuallyimagining and @/toikiii - thank you endlessly!

Summary: You know a lot about the many types of love thanks to Kim Taehyung. You love him as the only person you see as “family”, you love him as your very best friend, and you love him as the beautiful, funny man he’s become. But when a twist of fate during your senior year has you rooming with his good friend Kim Namjoon, you just might find that you have plenty left to learn about love.

Lesson One: there are such things as a right way and a wrong way to love and to be loved.

You and Namjoon get used to living together.

Section Warnings: language, drinking, pov switch to Namjoon at the end

WC: 7k

The world is mine: blue hill, still silver lake, Broad field, bright flower, and the long white road A gateless garden, and an open path: My feet to follow, and my heart to hold. - Journey | Edna St. Vincent Millay

Monday August 31

Monday passes quickly, the biggest event being that your wifi finally gets installed. You don’t see Namjoon all day - his room is empty when you get out of bed. You spend most of your day lazing around in sweatpants, enjoying having high-speed internet at your fingertips again.

Although there aren’t classes due to the federal holiday, the cafeteria on campus is open since the administration knew most students would have moved in over the weekend. You could walk there - your apartment to the student center is a shorter walk than the student center to your furthest class - but Taehyung offers to drive you. Laziness, and a few minutes of time alone in his car, win over practicality.

Once you’ve made your plates and commandeered a small table near the back of the caf, Taehyung asks you, “So, how’s roomie life?”

You shrug. “Nothing to tell. He hasn’t even been home today. But I think it’ll be fine. I have a feeling we’ll just each… do our own thing.”

Taehyung nods. “That’s better than big drama. Do you remember Jungkook’s roommate last year?”

Your eyes widen. “Oh, god, the toilet paper hoarder.”

Jungkook’s university-assigned roommate had indeed hoarded every extra roll of toilet paper in a secret location, meaning that if a roll ever got used up by anyone who wasn’t him, they could never find the new rolls to put out, even if they’d bought the replacements. Not only had Jungkook had to buy and then hide his own replacements, you and Taehyung had gone over and tried to help him search around for the hoard while his roommate was out, to no luck.

Taehyung snorts into his plate. “Man, that kid was weird. JayKay’s so lucky we had room for him this year.”

“I haven’t seen the place yet,” you point out. “Any major decor changes?”

Taehyung laughs again. “Just Jungkook’s punching bag. I swear, Jimin’s gonna break his wrist playing around with it.”

“Unlike you and your perfect form.” You roll your eyes.

“Hey,” he says defensively, pointing a finger at you. “When I’m goofing around, I don’t hit it hard enough to hurt myself.”

When you’re done eating, you walk back to Taehyung’s car. It takes literal minutes to get back to your brick building, and he idles at the curb.

“You want to hang out for a while?” you ask, hopeful. “We got the wifi installed today, we could watch a show?”

“Can’t,” he says apologetically. “I have plans with someone later.”

Plans with someone. That was Taehyung-speak for a date, or maybe “date” was the wrong word. Regardless, it meant he was seeing a girl later, getting something from her that he wasn’t getting from you.

“Ah,” you say. “Use protection.” You unbuckle as he scrunches his face at you.

“Don’t be gross,” he grouses.

“You know I have no choice,” you tell him solemnly as you climb out of the car. You pause, resting your head on the top of the doorframe, peering at him. “Good luck in class tomorrow. Text me if you want to eat or anything.”

“Yeah,” he says, nodding, already thinking ahead to his schedule. “Lunch around one?”

“I’ll text you, I have to go look at my schedule,” you admit. You shut the door and wave goodbye, heading inside. You don’t say love you in goodbye; you never do when you know he’s leaving your company for another girl’s. As if, with this one silly little rule in your own brain, you can punish him for it, when in reality there’s no way he even notices.

Namjoon still isn’t home, so the apartment is silent and empty. You decide to devote your evening to prepping - both physically and emotionally - to start class tomorrow. You check your schedule, organize your books, make sure your laptop is charging. You get in bed early just out of sheer boredom. Around eleven pm as you’re scrolling around mindlessly on your phone, you finally hear keys in the lock, the thump as the door shuts again, Namjoon’s footsteps approach his own bedroom. You wonder absently where he was for fourteen hours.

It occurs to you that you know nothing about his personal life beyond that he’s a grad student. You don’t even know his concentration of study.

You wonder if you should go out to say hi, maybe under the pretense of getting a drink. Then you hear the sound of his door shut, and minutes later the boiler kicks on as his shower demands hot water. So, you stay put, turning out your light and setting your alarm for morning.

Friday September 4th

Your classes go well. The first week is always the professors going through the syllabus and outlining their expectations, anyway. Today, your morning class seems like it will be interesting, but tough; you’ve had this professor before and she’s a notoriously hard grader. You’d done okay with her the year before, though. Your second class, after lunch, is better. It’s a poetry course, which is your concentration, and you’ve had this professor - Professor Jemisen - twice already. He’s pretty laid-back, an easy grader, but you always find his lecture topics and assigned readings to be really interesting.

He also gives homework on the first week, which most of your professors don’t: an assigned reading and reflection for the first poet on the syllabus, plus a prompt to write your own, pulling inspiration from that poet’s choices in style, rhyme scheme, and use of imagery. You’ve already got an idea as you walk out of class and head in the direction of your new building - this particular poet used a lot of nautical imagery, ships and captains, and the ocean itself was always very nearly a character of its own.

You think as you walk, inspired by the lecture fresh in your head, toying with some ocean imagery and how you could stitch it into a turn of phrase. When you reach your building and sling off your backpack to hunt for your keys, you decide to stay on the steps for a minute. The sun is shining but it’s breezy, and it’s really pleasant. You pull out a notebook and some paper and start to draft what you might turn in.

Pulling pulling pulling, each

cresting wave a daunting hill.

Who would try to fight the tide,

the dark, the depth, the chill?

My devotion’s been an ocean.

I fear it always will.

One thing that the deep sea is:

it’s never still.

You frown at it, pen between your teeth. You like the idea of the shorter final line, but the flow is off. You’re still considering this - as well as already thinking about how you’ll need at least one but probably two more short pieces like this for the assignment - when someone stops in front of you, their silhouette blocking the sun and casting you in a sudden shadow.

“You locked out?” a deep voice asks.

You look up (and up, and up) to find Namjoon peering at you, concern on his face.

“Oh,” you say stupidly. For some reason, you feel embarrassed, like you’ve been caught doing something silly, as if doing homework outside during nice weather was something strange and secret, and not completely normal. “I was working on an assignment. The sun - it was nice out here. I’m not locked out.”

“Gotcha,” he says easily, fishing in his pockets for his own keys. You struggle to stand, knees a little achy after using them as a table for the last half hour or so, closing up your notebook. You might as well go inside, now. You aren’t going to write anymore at this point, anyway.

You follow Namjoon upstairs, trying to find a good distance to put between you: you don’t want to be right on his heels, nor do you want him to have to hold the door for you for an awkward amount of time if you’re too far back.

Inside the apartment, Namjoon drops his keys on the counter and heads for his bedroom door. Over his shoulder, he calls, “Have a good night.”

A good night? The sun isn’t even setting yet.

But, it seems Namjoon means what he says. He disappears into his room, leaving his door open just about three inches, and he doesn’t come out again for the rest of the afternoon.

You stay in the living room through the afternoon, preferring to do Professor Jemisen’s poetry reading by the large, living room windows. You can hear Namjoon doing whatever in his room - the clacking of keys for minutes at a time, bumps and clacks as his wheeled desk chair moves and taps the table as he shifts in it, occasionally his footsteps as he crosses the room towards his attached bathroom. Sometimes you hear him mutter a curse, bang once on the desk with - you presume - a fist.

You wonder idly what he’s doing - gaming, maybe? - as you finish your homework. You submit your assignment. The sun sets. You cook an easy one-pan dinner. You wash up the dishes you made while cooking, you put the leftovers in the fridge. You go shower and wash your hair, emerge back into the living room in your pajamas, and heat up some water for chamomile tea.

Namjoon’s door hasn’t moved at all, still open just enough for you to be able to tell that he hasn’t turned on any of the lamps even though it’s gotten dark; the only light from the room flickers blue and white, a tv or computer screen. The same sounds filter through the small gap as you let your tea steep - the chair, the keyboard, Namjoon’s low voice as he mutters to himself, something rhythmic and lilting, before the typing starts again.

When you turn out the kitchen and living room lights, close to midnight, and head to bed, he’s still typing away in there, the room still cast in black and blue.

Wednesday September 9

You’re surprised to find him in the kitchen Wednesday morning. You come out of your room at a clip, pretty ready to head over to campus - you’re just trying to find your wallet.

Namjoon is sitting at the breakfast bar, a mug of steaming black coffee in front of him, scrolling on his phone.

“Hey,” he says, sounding a little surprised to see you, too.

“Do you not sleep?” you ask, before realizing how bratty you sound. “I just mean, you were still up when I went to bed, and now you’re up before me.”

Luckily, he smiles at this, a bit sheepishly. “Not as much as I should,” he admits. “I got… I was working on something last night, so I was up later than I meant to be. I’d love to sleep in today - trust me - but I have to be on campus in–” he glances at his watch, “--twenty minutes.”

“Me too,” you say, starting to hunt around the living room. “But I can’t find my wallet.”

“Is it this one?” he asks, pointing to the counter near the spot that you’ve both wordlessly designated as the place to drop your keys.

“Yes,” you say, sighing with relief. You slide your wallet into your bookbag and zip it back up. You pat your pockets, checking - phone, keys, yes. “Are you walking over? Want me to wait for you?”

He considers this for a second. “No, go ahead,” he decides. “I need to get a few things organized first, I don’t want to hold you up.”

“Okay,” you say easily, hiking your backpack up a little higher on your back. “By the way, I won’t be around tonight, I have work. If you want the leftovers from what I cooked last night, feel free. They’ll go bad after today.”

Now Namjoon looks really surprised - his eyebrows jump and everything. “Really? Wow, thanks. I appreciate it.”

“Sure,” you shrug. “I hope you like it.” You glance at the clock and murmur to yourself that you need to get going. “See you later,” you call over your shoulder as you leave. As you turn to give this goodbye, you see him watching you go with a small smile on his face, mostly hidden behind his large hand, fingers pressing against his mouth.

–

You have your senior thesis class on Wednesdays - it’s a double, with a break for lunch in the middle, and it’s with Professor Jemisen again.

“Two days in a row, huh?” he asks you as you pass his desk. You give him a quick smile and pick a desk near the middle of the room. As class starts, he outlines how the thesis will work - an intensive study and analysis of one or two poets’ works, as well as your own portfolio project.

“We’ll spend the first half each week working on the anthology study,” he tells the room, scanning the crowd of sleepy seniors to make sure everyone is listening. “After we break for lunch, we’ll spend the second half workshopping your portfolios. It’s going to be a lot of work, and you’re going to need to be ready to go each Wednesday. If you’ve made it this far half-assing it, I’m warning you today that it won’t get you to pass your thesis. I’d like to remind you that you must pass Senior Thesis in order to graduate.”

He spends the rest of the morning session going over some options for the anthology study, showing examples of previous students’ final thesis projects to model what he’s looking for.

By the time he flips the lights back on and you all stagger back to life, slowly shifting to pick up backpacks and shoulder bags, rising unsteadily from your chairs, your head is spinning. You could walk across campus to the student center and get real lunch, but this particular academic building has a coffee shop and a fast-food area. You opt for french fries and a juice, finding a few girls you’re familiar with and joining their table.

“This sounds like it’s going to be a lot of work,” one of them, a girl named Gloria, laments. You’ve had a few poetry courses with her over the last three years; she’s a talented poet, good at using a biting, precise syntax.

“I know,” you agree, twisting the top off your juice. “Any ideas whose anthology you might use?”

She hums, eyes far away, mentally flipping through poets she likes enough to type twenty-five pages about. “Not sure yet,” she finally admits. “You?”

“No,” you lie. Professor Jemisen had said there would be no repeats - if someone else picked a poet, no one else could choose them. You already knew exactly who you wanted, and you didn’t want to lose your chance. In fact, you leave the lunch break early to go stake your claim.

“Can I go ahead and put in my choice?” you ask Professor Jemisen as you re-enter the room, about twenty minutes before the second block is scheduled to start.

He frowns good-naturedly. “You don’t want to think about it a little? I’m not going to let you change in the middle.”

You shake your head, sure. “No, I know who I want.”

Professor Jemisen nods somewhat absently, looking around the scattered papers on the table before him. He finds what he’s looking for and lifts it, reaching to take the pen from behind his ear.

“Okay,” he says, finding your name on the roster. “Let me have it.”

“Edna St. Vincent Millay,” you tell him, mind already whirring, thinking ahead to which works would fit your thesis. “I was thinking of coming from a feminist angle… how she was so progressive for her time, how she pushed boundaries as a woman and as a writer.”

Professor Jemisen nods slowly, considering this. “That sounds promising. I look forward to seeing what you come up with, Y/N.”

Pleased, you take your seat, pulling up your school email and catching up on a few things while you wait for class to start again.

–

You actually like your part-time job at the on-campus bookstore. The busy season can be a little exhausting - those first few days when it seems like the entire campus comes at the same time to get their required reading. But after the initial rush each semester, it’s a pretty laid back job. Since this is your third year there, your boss trusts you with a little more responsibility, which is how you ended up getting the closing shift twice a week.

Almost no one comes in after regular dinner hours, which means once you’ve done a quick sweep through to make sure nothing got put away in the wrong spot and the items that need restocked are handled you can just sit around behind the counter and talk shit with your coworker, Kris. Kris started with you last year, and you get along well.

“Do anything fun over the summer?” you ask absently, leaning back in your chair and crossing your legs, happy to be seated for a little while. Outside the store’s high windows, it’s dark. The lighting in the store is relatively dim, giving you a cozy, sequestered feeling.

“Went with my parents on vacation,” Kris tells you. “Barely survived.”

“Yikes,” you say.

“How about you? Any family trips?” they ask.

“Nah,” you say easily. “Just hung out with Taehyung, the usual. The biggest event from my summer was Penny bailing on the apartment with me.”

Kris makes a grumpy noise. “I wish I could afford it,” they complain. “I would have loved to help you out and live off campus.”

“That would have been fun,” you smile. “We would’ve made trouble.”

Kris cackles, a deepy, throaty sound. “We would have. The roommate is okay, though?”

You shrug. “Yeah, Namjoon’s really nice. He’s clean and quiet, so I really can’t complain.”

Kris sits up, eyes widening. “Wait, Namjoon? You’re living with Kim Namjoon? The TA?”

You hesitate. “Is he a TA? I’m not sure.”

They wave a hand at you. “It has to be the same,” they say insistently. “How many Kim Namjoon’s can there be on a campus this size?”

“Probably only one,” you admit.

“Probably only one,” Kris echoes in agreement. “And he’s beautiful. I honestly blame him for almost failing Medieval Lit last year. I was too distracted.”

You can’t help it, you crack up. “You failed Medieval Lit because you tried to take it on top of a full courseload,” you object. “And you tried to write your final paper about The Legend of Zelda.”

“I had solid evidence for my thesis!” Kris balks loudly. You’re laughing so hard you’re nearly crying, remembering how strongly you’d tried to help them focus on a better topic for that paper. Kris doesn’t listen to reason - not even when it comes from you. “And I’m telling you - it’s because I was staring at his gorgeous dimples instead of listening to the lecture!”

Gorgeous dimples? You haven’t noticed. To be fair, you’ve barely interacted with your new roommate; not a lot of chances to see him smile.

“How do you find all these beautiful men?” Kris laments, tugging at their purple hair in emotional distress. “It is truly unfair.”

You laugh; Kris spent much of last year bemoaning how much time you got to spend with Taehyung - and by proxy, Jungkook and Jimin. Kris had a collective crush on the whole bunch, starting from when they shared Freshman Seminar with Jungkook.

“They find me,” you shrug. “And you know I’m blind to the beauty, anyway.” Well, that was almost all the way true. There was one exception.

“You know,” Kris says thoughtfully, “they really don’t hang out with other girls. You’re the only one.”

“That’s not true,” you object. “Have you seen those idiots at a party? They’re like magnets. It’s almost gross how easy it is for them.”

“I don’t mean at parties, I mean in their circle,” Kris explains. “You’re the only one they let into the group.”

You consider this, weighing the validity of it, searching for reasons. “I think it’s because they all know -”

Kris cuts you off, eyes glinting with mischief. “They all know that you’re so in love with Taehyung that you won’t bother the rest of them?”

You know they’re teasing and that they mean no harm, but it stings a little. You let out a quick laugh, trying to cover it. “I was going to say they all know that Taehyung and I are a package deal,” you say, the words tasting like arsenic on your tongue. “But maybe you’re more right.”

Kris seems to hear the change in your tone, and their gaze softens a little. “Anything new with that?” they ask delicately.

Anything new. You consider for a moment the version of the story that Kris knows: the close friendship, the feelings you have. How does it look from the outside? Can they see the situation with more clarity than you? You’re afraid to ask, afraid to give the question any attention.

“What could be new?” you ask, the lie dripping from you. “We were best friends last year - we’re best friends now.”

Kris gives you a side-eye good enough to be a viral meme. You ignore them, turning away gladly when the bell over the door dings. A grubby-looking freshman comes in and stands before the spinning rack with your electronic accessories - knock-off airpods, charging cables, usb drives. He grumpily sorts through the chargers and grabs one, slapping it down on the counter in front of you.

You ring him up silently and he leaves after paying. Kris is still watching you, and you dread turning around.

“You know,” they say slowly, “he was at a party I was at the other night. With a girl.”

You force yourself to shrug. “Taehyung dates. We aren’t together - he’s allowed. We’re just friends.”

They look at you evenly, then purse their lips and visibly decide to drop it. “Okay,” they say lightly. “If you say so.”

“I say so,” you mutter, deciding to go check the stock room for absolutely nothing, just to walk away.

When you get home, sometime after nine-thirty, Namjoon’s door is shut - a little sliver of that same blue light slipping underneath the crack below the door. Your leftovers are gone from the fridge, the container washed and put away.

Thursday September 10th

Thursday brings heavy rain - the all-day kind, the kind whose noise permeates the whole day, greeting you as you struggle to consciousness in your bed, adding steady percussion to the quiet music you turn on. The kind that makes you turn on lamps in broad daylight, the darkness outside making it that much harder to stay awake.

The kind that brings a barometric pressure headache, just for you.

[12:02 PM] Tae Bear 🧸: This is Taehyung, looking for signs of life [12:02 PM] Tae Bear 🧸: anyone in there? Hellooooo? [12:04 PM] You: shhhhhh why are you being so loud??? [12:05 PM] Tae Bear 🧸: ohh she’s got a weather headache [12:06 PM] Tae Bear 🧸: :( [12:07 PM] You: i want to push my thumbs through my eyeballs [12:09 PM] Tae Bear 🧸: you have such a way with words [12:14 PM] Tae Bear 🧸: you take anything for it? [12:15 PM] You: left the prescription stuff at lin’s house [12:15 PM] You: like an idiot 🤡 [12:17 PM] Tae Bear 🧸: ugh i’m sry [12:18 PM] Tae Bear 🧸: hope it passes quickly [12:19 PM] Tae Bear 🧸: lemme know if you feel good enough to come to dinner at the caf w me later

You don’t answer, pressing your head back into the darkness of the couch cushion beneath you. The pressure across your browline is nearly unbearable. You had managed to get up and get dressed, drinking a mug of coffee out of sheer desperation, before collapsing onto the couch. You set an alarm on your phone for when you need to leave for class and pray that just resting and closing your eyes until then will help, at all.

You don’t know how much later it is when you hear the front door open and close. You hear a muted thump as Namjoon (you assume) drops his bag in the entryway, then his footsteps tracing through the kitchen. The fridge opens, closes with a click, and then the footsteps approach.

They pause somewhere in your vicinity.

You can almost feel the unspoken alarm. It must look bad - you aren’t even laying down, just slumped sideways from a sitting position, body twisted to hide your face from any source of light. You raise one pitiful hand and wave.

“Hi,” you say, not sure he can hear you through the couch cushion.

“Uh,” Namjoon says, taking one step closer, “are you… okay?”

“Relatively,” you say, rolling your head to squint at him through one eye. The soothing yellow lamplight seems stabbing, and you squint a little harder, trying to block it out. “I get bad headaches sometimes when it’s like -.” You wave a hand at the windows. Rain pounds against them, happy to finish your sentence for you.

Namjoon makes an understanding and sympathetic noise. “Can I do anything for you?” he asks after a minute, sounding a little ill at ease. “Does anything usually help? Do you need to go back to sleep or something?”

“I have class at two,” you grumble. “I don’t want to skip this early in the year. And yeah, I used to have a prescription for these kinds of days, but I guess I forgot to pack them.”

Namjoon disappears into his room, midconversation, which confuses you so much that you actually make yourself sit up, your head spinning from the change in position. You see the light shift in his room - he must have turned on the bathroom light. You can hear the rummaging of items, the rolling clatter of pills in bottles. He returns with a white bottle in hand, holding it out for you to read the label.

“You take these?” he asks, pushing his glasses back into place as you peer at the name.

“Not at that dose,” you laugh. “What are you, an elephant?”

He frowns playfully, pretends to pull the bottle away. “Well, I’m not going to share if you’re going to call me names,” he teases. “You think a half would be okay?”

“You don’t mind?” you check.

He scoffs lightly. “Of course not. I never use them all. I get about one bad migraine every six months, that’s all.”

“You’re a literal life-saver,” you tell him. He gives you a gentle smile, and you notice - really notice - those dimples Kris mentioned.

They are cute. Damn.

He places half a pill on the table before you, screwing the cap back onto the bottle as he walks into the kitchen.

“Oh,” you call after him, feeling a little like you should stop him. “Hey, I can get my own…. drink,” you finish lamely as he sets a cup of water next to the pill.

“Don’t worry about it,” he says, something warm in his voice, and then disappears into his bedroom again.

You’re staring absently at his empty, open doorway as you take the medicine. He’s a mystery, this roommate of yours. There are probably lots of sides to him that you haven’t seen yet, many things you haven’t discovered about him. But you decide, right there, that he’s nice.

–

[1:41 PM] You: i left my headache meds in your bathroom :(

[1:59 PM] Lin: oh noooooo

[2:02 PM] You: :( can you mail them? is that legal? Lol

[2:17 PM] Lin: i’ll find out

–

[4:36 PM] Namjoon: did it help??

[4:37 PM] You: :( why are you so nice

[4:39 PM] You: took it from Death Mode to a dull pounding

[4:43 PM] Namjoon: i’m really glad

[4:44 PM] Namjoon: i was going to order smth for dinner in a bit - you want in?

[4:47 PM] You: oh yes pls

[4:49 PM] Namjoon: Ondubu Menu.pdf

–

[4:41 PM] You: just said (typed) the word ‘pounding’ to my roommate

[4:42 PM] You: can i die now???????

[4:42 PM] Kris: lmfaooooooooooo i love you

[4:43 PM] Kris: the context, i BEG

[4:45 PM] You: i mean very unsexy context lol

[4:46 PM] You: was in regards to the HEADACHE FROM HELL >:(

[4:47 PM] Kris: let’s work on sexying up the context

[4:48 PM] You: bye 🚶‍♀️

[4:49 PM] Kris: #TeamNamjoon

[5:24 PM] You: #TeamYN

[5:24 PM] Kris: #TeamDimples

[5:25 PM] You: we’re done here

–

[6:06 PM] Tae Bear 🧸: dinner at the caf? want me to come pick u up?

[6:08 PM] You: sorry, i ate, namjoon ordered us takeout

[6:09 PM] Tae Bear 🧸: ah. okay.

[6:12 PM] You: come over later?

[6:13 PM] Tae Bear 🧸: headache?

[6:14 PM] You: all better :) come over?

[6:19 PM] You: tete... please?

[6:20 PM] Tae Bear 🧸: yeah

[6:21 PM] Tae Bear 🧸: yeah i will

–

“I’m glad you feel better,” Taehyung tells you from his end of the couch.

“Me. Too.” You wiggle your feet against his ribs. “It was truly terrible this morning.”

You’re on opposite sides of the couch, as usual, one blanket thrown over your legs. You balance your laptop on your thighs, trying to work on some homework. Taehyung scrolls through his phone.

“I was thinking, you guys should have people over this weekend,” he muses, not taking his eyes off his screen.

“Like a party?” you clarify, still typing.

“Mhm,” he nods. “A housewarming?”

You laugh a little. “That’s kind of last minute, Tae. You offering to help buy all the snacks and drinks? And clean?”

He meets your eyes long enough to make sure you see him roll his. “You don’t need help,” he grouses.

You sigh, hating that you don’t hate the idea. “Could we keep it kind of lowkey?” you ask, as if you wouldn’t be the host, and thus in charge of these decisions.

“Just the guys?” Taehyung suggests, sounding a little hopeful now that it seems like you’re cracking.

“Yeah,” you nod. “Jungkook, Jimin… maybe the others? I don’t remember all of their names.” You mean Namjoon’s friends, the ones who had helped him move in.

“I’ll ask the groupchat,” Taehyung promises.

Friday September 11th

In the end, Taehyung gets confirmation from Jimin, Jin, and Jungkook - the others seem more like maybes. Although you’d asked to keep it small, you feel the need to diversify a little, and you extend the guest list to include Kris, plus Gloria and a few more of the girls from your classes.

Of course, needing to maintain a positive roomie experience, you make sure you ask Namjoon if it’s okay. In the morning, you wait a while after you hear his shower run to make sure he’s properly awake, and then knock on his door.

“Yeah?” he calls, sounding a little distracted.

“Namjoon?” you ask, nudging his door just a little. Yeah isn’t the same as come in, necessarily. “I wanted to ask you something.”

He’s sitting at his desk, his back to you. At your words, he reaches up to pop out his airpods, and clicks to minimize the screen he had up - what looks like a word doc, from your vantage point in the doorway.

“Okay?” he says, stretching his long legs towards you, leaning back in his swivel-chair.

“Did Taehyung talk to you about tonight?” you venture.

“Tonight?”

Why are you nervous?

“Yeah,” you say. “He had an idea to have your whole group come hang here, like a little housewarming thing? He said he’d text you all.”

Namjoon glances at his phone, as if to corroborate your story, but doesn’t turn the screen on to actually check for the text. “I didn’t see it,” he admits.

“Oh,” you say. “Okay. Well, he should have invited all of you guys. I mean, you don’t need to be invited, you live here. I just, um, I wanted to make sure it was okay with you? To have people over tonight?”

You watch it on his face as he understands that you’re asking for roomie permission. He sits back up, already starting to swivel back around to his screen, nodding easily. “Yeah, of course. Thanks for asking first.”

You frown at his back; you hadn’t really felt like the conversation was over, but he’s already pressing his airpods back in with his thumbs, feet tapping with the bass.

“O-kay,” you say, backing out of his room. You have a date with a vacuum cleaner before your living room fills with people. On your way to the closet where the vacuum lives, you text Taehyung, begging him to make a liquor run for you.

–

The truth is Namjoon forgets what you asked him about twenty seconds after you leave his room. He gets back to work, trying to get back into the flow he’d had before you knocked. He doesn’t hear you leave for class, doesn’t think about it again when he leaves for his own an hour later.

[4:49 PM] Namjoon: bar tonight?

[4:50 PM] Yoongi: did we not…already have plans with you tonight?

[4:51 PM] Hobi: no, we did

[4:53 PM] Namjoon: we did? idr. can the plans be bar at 8:30?

[4:55 PM] Hobi: you’d rather do that??

[4:57 PM] Namjoon: than what?

[5:00 PM] Yoongi: we were supposed to go to your place?

[5:01 PM] Yoongi: taehyung texted us yesterday

[5:03 PM] Namjoon: oh yeah

[5:05 PM] Namjoon: i mean you all know i love taehyung…

[5:06 PM] Hobi: but…..

[5:07 PM] Namjoon: but do i want to sit around my living room with a bunch of undergrads tonight?

[5:08 PM] Yoongi: i get the feeling the answer to that is ‘no’

[5:10 PM] Namjoon: so, i repeat. bar? 8:30?

[5:10 PM] Yoongi: 👍👍

[5:15 PM] Hobi: that won’t hurt your roomie’s feelings???

[5:16 PM] Namjoon: she’ll be fine

Still, when 8:30 rolls around and Namjoon notices you bustling around the living room like a crazy person, he feels a stab of guilt in his stomach. Resigned, he asks, “Can I do anything to help you get ready?”

“Taehyung is supposed to be helping me get ready,” you grumble, as you line up a bowl of chips next to a smaller bowl of popcorn. “But is he here helping? Despite this being his idea?”

“That feels rhetorical,” Namjoon observes. You shoot him a look.

There’s a knock at the door, which saves him from your wrath, he thinks. As he watches you hurry to the door, wiping your hands once on your jeans out of nervousness, he knows he can’t leave - not yet. Silently damning both his conscience and his mother for raising him to have one, he texts the guys that he’s running late. Then, he reaches over and pops the top off one of the beers you’ve set out.

He might as well, right?

It’s an entire hour later than he finally feels like maybe he can slip away. Taehyung finally showed up about half an hour ago, three girls slipping through the front door behind him. Namjoon can’t help it - his eyes fly to your face, watching for a reaction. If you’re upset, you don’t show it, instead hurrying to show them around, pointing out where to grab drinks and where the bathrooms are located.

When Jungkook and Jin arrive - clearly having pregamed - Namjoon rises, inching his way closer to the door. Someone with a mop of bright purple hair comes through the door with Jimin, and the volume in the room triples instantaneously.

Now’s my chance, he thinks, and glances your way to see if he'll make it out unnoticed.

Would it not be easier to say, ‘hey, Y/N, this was fun, but I have plans with Yoongi’? He wonders. Probably, but that would potentially result in seeing the hurt look on your face, and he’s trying to avoid that.

On the couch, you sit close to Taehyung, legs touching, his arm over your shoulders. You’re laughing maniacally at something, using his torso to hold yourself up as you cackle, eyes squeezed shut. He looks down at you, smile large and boxy, laughing along.

Namjoon grabs his keys and slinks out the door.

“Look who decided to show up to the gathering that he planned,” Yoongi drawls when Namjoon finally slides onto the barstool beside him. Hobi gives him a sheepish look, one that says sorry about him… but also, he’s right.

“I felt bad leaving,” Namjoon explains. “No one was there yet, and then I wanted to finish the beer I opened…”

“Mhm,” Yoongi intones, and Namjoon almost asks him what that’s supposed to mean, but decides to let it go.

They talk over a pitcher of beer, Hobi filling them in on how auditions for his dance team are going, Yoongi on his current classes.

Namjoon’s phone buzzes against his leg and he slips it out of his pocket far enough to see your name on his screen.

[10:03 PM] You: did you… leave??

[10:04 PM] Namjoon: yeah

[10:06 PM] You: it wasn’t bc of us right? I thought you said this was ok???

[10:07 PM] Namjoon: no it wasn’t. just not really my scene. have fun though

[10:10 PM] You: ah ok. i just assumed since some of ur crew are here you’d join us

Yoongi’s chin is practically on Namjoon’s shoulder as he peeks at his screen.

“She wanted you to hang out, you dick,” he says.

Namjoon balks, shaking his head. “She’s just trying to keep the peace. Doesn’t want drama with her roommate.”

“No, dude,” Hobi insists, peeking over Namjoon’s other shoulder, giving him a perfect angel and devil scenario. “You are, in fact, an asshole. She’s definitely upset that you left.”

Namjoon growls in frustration, shimmying his shoulders to knock his menaces loose. “I don’t want to talk about Y/N. Let’s talk about something else.”

From either side of him, Yoongi and Hobi exchange a knowing look.

“What?” Namjoon demands.

The shared look now incorporates some eyebrow movement. Then, cool as a cucumber, Yoongi leans back in his seat, takes a long pull from his beer glass. “So,” he says, so casual, “how are things with you two, anyway?”

“What you two?” Namjoon counters.

“The roomies,” Hobi supplies. “The odd couple.”

“We are very not a couple,” Namjoon says flatly, irritation simmering.

“But seriously,” Yoongi pushes. “How is it?”

“It’s fine,” he says, a defensive edge in his voice. He pauses, tries for a second to get his act together. “As far as roommates go, she’s good. Keeps the shared areas clean, isn’t noisy. She’s not rude or anything.” He shrugs, hoping this will be enough to get the jackals off his scent.

“That’s good,” Hobi says, nodding. “Do you talk or anything?”

“Nope,” Namjoon says, which is true. “We just kind of do our own thing.”

“Her ‘thing’ being Taehyung, right?” Hobi asks innocently.

Namjoon shakes his head. “I don’t think anything’s actually going on there. To her dismay, it seems.”

“I wonder why,” Yoongi muses. When the others look at him in confusion, he explains, “I mean, why nothing’s going on. It seems like they’re attached at the hip. What’s missing? What’s stopping them?”

“He is,” Namjoon tells them. “How she looks at him, and how he looks at her… it isn’t the same. It just isn’t there for him. I won’t presume to know how he feels, but it seems like he’s just enjoying the benefits of her company until she figures out that it won’t go anywhere. If that ever even happens.”

He hadn’t realized he had an opinion about this until the words are out of his mouth.

“Kind of sad,” Yoongi remarks, pouring himself another beer.

“Maybe she just needs someone to snap her out of it,” Hobi says thoughtfully.

“Maybe,” Namjoon agrees, and changes the topic as smoothly as he can.

Honestly, he agrees with Yoongi. It is sad - even from the outside, even from the limited interaction you’ve had, he can see the stars in your eyes when you look at your best friend. And he can see the disappointment that swims there when Taehyung, just by existing, lets you down, over and over again, day after day.

Maybe you do just need a distraction, someone new to divert your attention. But Namjoon can easily see that it’ll be an uphill battle for whatever poor soul tries that route, and he doesn’t feel like he has the emotional energy for it. He’s been there and done that before, and he doesn’t like to repeat mistakes.

No matter how cute and funny he might find you.

He hurries to drown that thought in another pint of beer.

Thank you so much for reading!!! Let me know what you think!!! Theories? Questions?? Keysmashes???

Section III will post on Friday, January 27th - hope to see you there!

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#fic: mffmhh #rm fanfic #namjoon fanfic #namjoon angst #rm angst #namjoon smut #rm smut #(eventually lol)#bts x reader #namjoon x reader #rm x reader #strangers to lovers #s2l #college au #roomie au #slow burn #bts fic #bts fanfic

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stardustinmyhands · 8 months ago

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4/9/24

I’m starting to gather my information for filing disability. This will be my 4th time filing. So starts that journey again.

I got into the store I wanted to transfer to. It’s just them getting me into the system under the right store number. This store is only like 10 minutes away from my new home. It has a lot of people over me in seniority, and I’ve been at this company for almost 9 years. Which shows me retention. My old store didn’t have that what so ever. So I hope I’m not the only one on my shift.

My stomach is hurting today. I’m living in zofran and atarax and adderall today. I don’t need tramadol, at least yet. I’m unpacking boxes as I work on filing for disability. I also dipped my veggies chicken nuggets in some honey, that maybe adding to my stomach hurting. Since I had gastric bypass I don’t take in a lot of sugar products, cause I don’t want to dump.

I have to say I handled this move very well. I packed most of the boxes. I found this apartment. I found the moving company we used.

This apartment feels more like home than my last apartment ever did. We’ve been here just over a week.

I’m also looking forward to finding my swimsuit so I can go swimming. That will feel so good on my back and joints. I will probably lose some weight.

Ok I know this is my chronic illness blog, but I’m obsessed with Gaga. She was seen in California, but look at that ring on her finger. If she’s engaged, I’m so happy for her. •••Since I was never able to have babies, and I dreamed of being a mom since I was a little girl. I don’t know how I will feel if and when she has a baby. I will be so jealous. But I know she will be an amazing momma. I’ve learned to box that jealousy away. I don’t know when it will come out or be triggered in me. I will have to deal with that when the time comes•••

My apartment is a mess of boxes. We moved into a smaller apartment. I had a lot of stuff in my old room, including my king sized bed, and still had room for all my stuff.

But as my friends say moving takes time, and probably more time to unpack cause you have to find new homes for everything you unpack.

I’ve reconnected with a friend of mine. She was a friend of mine all through high school. She became a Mormon and married into the church, to someone I feel she should have never married. They are in the process of getting a divorce. I’m so proud of her. She’s blossoming into an amazing person. I feel our connection will stronger this time around. She’s living on her own, and has a car. She’s making it her own life. I’m very proud of her. She’s so open minded now. I feel I can tell her anything. I’m really looking forward to connecting with her.

Ok back to what I was doing.

#chronic illness #autoimmine disease #chronic life #chronic pain #spoonie #disability #Lady Gaga #infertility

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aestheticvoyage2024 · 9 months ago

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Day 69a: Saturday March 9, 2024 - "Vi-Lee's Third Birthday"

This post contributed by Audrie after we went to Jess' house for Vi Lee's Birthday party

Wild to process that three full years have now come to pass between the birth of this child and this day. I remember it all well, as I was watching with learning eyes; my long time best friend journeying through pregnancy, labor and birth and into and through the multitude of layers of motherhood just about 12 weeks ahead of my own expedition. Witnessing the beauty in the birth of a mother through this lens — knowing that what was unfolding for her was on deck for me —helped me beyond measure; it has been a bit like owning a crystal ball, giving glimpses of my own future, albeit hazy and unclear, lighting the way to some generalized knowing’s of what is likely to come. Jess and I had this fantasy idea when we were both tracking our first pregnancies a trimester apart from one another about having this picturesque new life along side one another with our littles in tow and a thriving friendship with frequent visits and support and face to face camaraderie… our reality after the tiny humans arrived was far from this dream. As visits and play dates and coordination of get togethers were far less frequent and far less bountiful than we imagined. And when we did manage to sync our children’s and personal schedules up, we found face to face visits often rushed, and hectic chasing babies, changing diapers, and being generally exhausted and scatter-brained mamas. But if anyone understood me the most and made my motherhood madness more normalized and feel welcome, it was and still is her. And watching Jess and listening to her about this Journey with Vi Lee —on the development scorecards, on the work/life balance, on the edges of the fray and in the depths of the mixture of gratitude, love, and exhaustion that embodies the life of committed mothers, I’m always in awe and learning from her experiences and actions.

Vi Lee is a brilliant, beyond articulate, sassy, sweet, silly, sturdy young child now. Her bright mind is equally balanced by her strong physical presence. She is stubborn, she is witty, she is playful, and she is generous with her sweet nature. All a reflection of her well rounded parents and their parenting. It’s glorious watching nature and nurture unfold in these little miracles.

And now, with the birth of this second, I get to peer a bit more into that personal crystal ball of mine — watching with learning and curious eyes how Jess again seems to make seamless the transition into being mother of two. Aiven Lane is just two weeks old now as Vi Lee turns three. There were so many magical moments I’ll take with me in my heart and memory from today; William prancing with the older girls in his green dragon wings, the flutter of my heart when William was examining the baby for the first time so tenderly and sweet, Vi Lee bounding from the bounce house to the cake and kicking off her own birthday song, Parker wider blue eyes than ever and more outgoing but still soft spoken in the shadow of her graceful also pregnant mother.

When Jess and I talk later about the day she will recall a blur of butterfly cake baking and broken conversations between adults and toddlers and presents and birthday candles and songs and tattoos and nursing baby snuggles.

The whole of the day was beautiful, and the quiet time driving across town with Jake and W and I in the car, my husband’s hand on mine and smiles and sunshine and blue bird AZ spring time weather filling me up with all the feels of new life, new possibilities and big things to soon come.

Song: Generation X - Dancing With Myself

Quote: "Because we don’t know when we will die, we get to think of life as an inexhaustible well. Yet everything happens a certain number of times, and a very small number, really. How many more times will you remember a certain afternoon of your childhood, some afternoon that’s so deeply a part of your being that you can’t even conceive of your life without it? Perhaps four or five times more. Perhaps not even. How many more times will you watch the full moon rise? Perhaps twenty. And yet it all seems limitless." ~Paul Bowles

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thefernmanner · 11 days ago

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"The Daven Din." From the Book of Sirach, "The Manner of the Fern" 4: 11-19.

Even though relief of poverty is a Commandment, is also smart. Aye, smart judgement is what we want. Anyone who does not judge life and his own actions correctly is wearing a disguise, easily exposed.

The Rewards of Wisdom

11 Wisdom teaches[a] her children and takes hold of those who seek her. 12 Whoever loves her loves life, and those who seek her from early morning will be filled with joy. 13 Whoever holds her fast inherits glory, and the Lord blesses the place she[b] enters. 14 Those who serve her minister to the Holy One; the Lord loves those who love her. 15 Whoever obeys her will judge the nations, and whoever listens to her will live securely. 16 If they remain faithful, they will inherit her; their descendants will also obtain her. 17 For at first she will walk with them in disguise; she will bring fear and dread upon them and will torment them by her discipline until she trusts them,[c] and she will test them with her ordinances. 18 Then she will come straight back to them again and gladden them and will reveal her secrets to them. 19 If they go astray, she will forsake them and hand them over to their ruin.

Fear and dread overwrite one's journey to the highly desired state of Shabbos. One must teach the self how to work without being lazy or too ambitious if one expects to understand happiness. Discipline, like learning to play a musical instrument, learn math, go to work on time, be faithful, not to waste time must be learned until it dawns, these things are preferable. If one is darting out of the way of the consequences of one's actions all of the time, one is not attaining to Shabbos.

Our culture either imposes the incorrect rules and harsh punishments, as it does with how other people have sex and get married, or fails to enforce laws against sex with minors as it refuses to do with Donald Trump and every prospective member of his cabinet. You should have seen what they did to Josh Rush, and he was not of age. Steve Miller, Rick Perry, Mike Pompeo, persons we are now callously putting in charge of the fate of the world took the boy, gave him way too many drugs, dressed him up in cute leather jock strap underpants, put him in a sling, restrained him there, and then they covered him in goo while he hung there all night. They laughed the whole time.

I have explained what I saw to the police and CIA and FBI nearly every day since I saw it trying to get these men and their boss removed from power and put under arrest to get justice for the planet earth and it has not worked. I was told yes, yes we have seen the films, yes we know what happened.

I said "So are you going to do something about it?"

"No, no, the police said. It's just going to have to be one of those things.

It was not one of those things, however. Then came October 7, then Rex Tillerson then killed my grandmother, an aunt, my son was attacked and beaten, the homes of other members of my family were broken into and I was sent proof, often as it was happening.

Trump and the others showed me their sexy movies and everything else they were doing hoping to extort me, as they have with many other persons, some with whom their strategies worked. But not with me.

I have been running for my life since I tried to lift the disguise of just exactly who and what Donald Trump is and nothing has worked but I am not giving up. Perhaps today the light bulb will go off now that these vile men are openly proclaiming they want to ransack the world all over again and will hurt more people than ever before.

I have given you their secrets and mine. You must now act.

The Values in Gematria are:

v. 11-12: Wisdom teaches her children. The Number is 12446, "isolate and insulate."

Children must not be exposed to sexy stuff until they are of age. Donald Trump and his friends in the Catholic Church and the Mormons talk about "bringing them to Jesus Christ" by fuchking little kids. This is egregious and he must be put to death for it.

Another of his buddies, another filth, is planning to exile ten million families who are doing well in America. This is not how the world paves the way for the futures lives of its children.

v. 13-14: Whoever holds fast inherits glory. The Number is 10943, קטד‎ג, catdg, "code c." "One hundred." One has to attain to Ha Shem, 100% of a soul, nothing less. Not one trace of wickedness can tempt the mind, not one instance of lawlessness can escape one's sight.

v. 15-16: Whoever obeys judges the nations. The Number is 14310, ידגי‎ ‎, yadgi, "work even if one is not the owner in order to benefit a great many people."

Together with the noun εργον (ergon), meaning work: the noun γεωργος (georgos), meaning land-worker; farmer, that is: someone who works on and benefits from a large agricultural enterprise, but not necessarily as the owner. Obviously, where the nature of the work of shepherds (ποιμην, poimen) extends to any kind of governmental function (in case you were wondering: the shepherds of Luke and the wise men of Matthew are the same guys), the nature of the work that a farmer does extends into natural scholarship and engineering ("growing" theories and technologies and sustaining the masses with them). In John 15:1 Jesus applies this word to the Father. This word often appears as synonym of αππελουργος (ampelourgos), or vine-worker. Since, up until the industrial revolution, farmers customarily formed society's elite, the name George and perhaps even the adjective "gorgeous" denoted nobility, splendor and wealth. This word is used 19 times, see full concordance, and from it in turn derive:

The verb γεωργεω (georgeo), meaning to farm (that is: to run a large agricultural business; Hebrews 6:7 only).

The noun γεωργιον (georgion), meaning a farm, or a big industrious enterprise that provided food, employment and general welfare for a great many people (1 Corinthians 3:9 only, where Paul uses it to describe what believers are to God). Obviously, a school of thought that investigates all things and harvest creation for useable information is precisely similar to a farm.

v. 17: Test the ordinances. Why am I still trying to get Donald Trump put on death row after nearly a decade of putting up with his abuse and bullshit personally and as a member of the human race???? Even after it was proven he helped plan October 7, he is still a free man.

What is wrong with you people?

The Number is 12428, יבד‎בח, ‎yevdabah, "a joke." Man must not joke with enforcement of the law. Should one make a mockery of the law, one scorns the flesh and becomes antichrist:

"The verb χλευαζω (chleuazo) means to jest, scoff or treat scornfully (Acts 2:13 and 17:32 only). It comes from noun χλευη (chleue), joke, jest (unused in the New Testament), which in turn stems from the same widely attested Proto-Indo-European root "glew-" from which English gets the word glee. But the act of scoffing clearly surpasses a mere innocent mockery or sport.

Our English word sarcasm comes from σαρκασμος (sarkasmos), meaning the same, which in turn derives from σαρξ (sarx), flesh. This suggests that the act of mocking is essentially predatorial, and its aim to take a bite out of someone's mind the way a lion would chomp down on someone's body.

The word σαρξ (sarx) most specifically refers to what we moderns call our consciousness. Our body is all we are directly conscious of, and our fleshy parts include all our senses. This word's Hebrew equivalent, namely בשר (basar), living flesh, even stems from the verb בשר (basar), to bring glad tidings or good news. That implies that all flesh is the expression of the soul, and all mockery is taking bites out of that.

When we mock we declare strategic weakness in the target, and feed our own predatorial soul by diminishing the soul we accost."

v. 18-19: Hand them over. After Barron Trump and his amazing friend, Bo Loudon told a Trump rally they had raped my hole, and provided me with footage of an unconscious version of myself getting corndogged, I decided to go public, as public as possible since I had no reason not to and do what had to be done to get rid of Donald Trump and his family and partners.

The Number is 9339, טג‎גט‎, tagget, "pronunciations."

Don't think the words, say the words!

To pronounce the words one needs what is called Daven Din, "unification between discussion and enforcement of the law."

I will not allow the US Gov to just turn and walk away from the evil Donald Trump, the Church, the Mormons, the Family Research Council, Heritage Foundation etc. did to my family and to the human race. That is just not an option. The implications are far too serious. Please join me in plunging the world back into the light by insisting anyone affiliated with the raw deal we got on election day is undone.

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stubborn-society · 2 years ago

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Kam Theory: “everything that’s meant for me will come.”

Photo Credit: Kam Theory

Cheers, I apologize for being absent from my post. I’ve been busy af, then I got sick with covid for the first time. Take it easy on me, would you?

I’m so excited to be back. Things have been steadily moving along here at Grapefruit HQ. Our house is growing, and given the state of western civilization, I think everyone is more or less happy. I feel booked and blessed.

As is my style, I am bringing you fresh, new artists to keep your eyes and ears on before anyone else. I’m no paycheck patsy out here lazily sowing seeds for the machine. I’m just one woman, the boss, out here putting her BST in the game every day. Mark my words. This is a threat and a promise.

I’ve waited a long time to get this interview under my belt and it’s finally come to fruition I’m so stoked:

Another Friend of Grapefruit - this is the lovely and gifted Kam Theory. I’ve put her 2020 single, The Process, on 5 playlists already. Check it out for yourself.

Hi, Kam Theory!

Hi!

How’s it going?

It’s going haha.

First, in your own words, tell us who you are.

I am an ATL-based artist and producer from Savannah, GA.

I love Atlanta, especially the artists from there. How long have you been making music for this project? Is there a story behind it?

I’ve kinda always been making music for this project but I just didn’t know what I’d call myself at those earlier stages. I’m always aiming to discover and hone in on what exactly I'm doing and slowly but surely I'm finding my sound and as a result, a name that stuck came about. I don't exactly even recall why I chose it. Partially it was my nickname Kam that my friends started calling me to shorten Kamiah. And Theory I think just resonated with my personality, interests, and the subject matter of my music, haha.

I got my first project name from a joke someone made when I worked in a call center when I was 20 and had it for 15 years, there’s no rhyme or reason! So tell me more about your path as a musician and what got you to where you are now.

My music journey started as a child, I instantly gravitated toward music. I showed interest in it from my earliest memories. Through elementary school I would bang on any keyboard I could get my hands on, I played violin in 5th grade (but quit sadly haha), and then picked up a guitar at 13. I kinda always had these fleeting moments with being able to learn or play because I didn't actually have an instrument that was mine (or could afford lessons) until my first keyboard and first guitar at 13/14. But from there I taught myself how to play guitar by learning songs I loved and by writing my own songs. Naturally, I wanted to record myself and my own creations, so that bred my love for production. At 14 or 15 I got my first USB mic and MIDI cord to connect my lil casio and begin teaching myself programs like Mixcraft and eventually Ableton Live. I spent many hours just creating and trial and error learning music to get where I am today with it.

That’s cool you started producing songs so early! Kids really didn’t have that kind of access to recording programs and all that comes with that when I was that age but it’s really cool to see.

We started following each other on TikTok a few months ago; that’s where I discovered you are crazy talented. What made you decide to start promoting your music on TikTok?

Mostly being encouraged by people around me to post my music on the platform, because it can be a great tool for discovery. And it can just be fun! I’m not always as consistent with it as I should be but it’s definitely cool to connect with others as a result of posting.

I notice some artists are very aggressive with their promotion on the app and others prefer to take a much more organic, real-life approach to it and just put their work out there and let it reach who it reaches. What has it been like for you as an artist promoting their music on social media?

It’s a good tool when I am consistent with it, but sometimes I find it draining if I find myself feeling like I have to create content to be seen or not drowned out by the algorithm. But overall it's helpful when I am intentional about it and just remember that everything that's meant for me will come.

Yeah for sure, it’s stressful to be on there trying to get a song to go viral; I kind of think that ship has sailed anyway (definitely for the better). But it’s such a great tool for connecting with people and building community. Do you use it to connect with other artists or creators on there?

I do find music there occasionally, from specific artists that I might discover down to accounts that actually make lists of artists/or songs to listen to.

Has TikTok been a good platform to build community and find other musicians?

I think it is or can be. Social media overall has the potential to be that. Just depends on who you meet, connect with, and how you plan to move based on that imo!

Totally. Musictok can be a very energizing place, especially now that things have chilled out and it’s not so much like The Hunger Games or something. But some people do still have that energy vampire vibe that’s annoying. Do you enjoy the other music content that you see? Do you think on TikTok the content matters more or the music?

I do. I love to see artists/musicians play and discover new ones via the algorithm that I potentially wouldn't have otherwise. Usually, it’s the music but also I enjoy how an artist can kind of curate a short-form video to reach a wider audience. A good visual is satisfying too, but especially when it compliments the music that’s already happening!

I’ll be honest, I don’t think anyone has mastered the art of seamlessly merging their content with their music on TikTok yet. But it’s not shade, I guess that doesn’t necessarily have to be the goal. Besides, a lot of artists on TikTok are solo. You also write and play all the instruments, record, and produce everything yourself. How do you feel about that? Is it your preference?

I think it has its pros and cons like with everything. I like not having to wait on anyone to get things done or made as a result of being solo. But I do miss collaboration when I've gone through a long period of time without it. And it's nice to have a creative control break when working with others because the work is spread out over multiple brains vs just one haha.

Yeah, I used to get weird about collaborating but when you are really vibing with someone it’s really hard to go back to juggling everything yourself. This is sort of a non-sequitur, but how do you feel about competition in the music industry? Do you feel affected by it?

I think competition tends to stem from competing for an opportunity as opposed to competing for the sake of it. Also competing for attention because attention can lead to such opportunities. But there’s more room in this now than ever before because of social media and the internet. So it’s just interesting to witness or experience. I think it can bring out the worst of some personalities tho haha.

ABSOLUTELY. I think if there’s anyone to compete with it’s the stories we tell ourselves that hold us back.

Lately, there has been a lot of conversation around indie artists maintaining control and ownership over their music and working independently of a label. Do you have any personal thoughts on signing to a label?

I kind of touched on this in the previous question without even knowing haha. It’s absolutely an important conversation. The industry can be predatory, so I'd say my hope is that every single artist has the ability to decide what works for them. I would hope that everyone makes informed decisions vs hastily made ones that they might regret later on or ones made in the face of deception. In a perfect world, all artists could pursue the career in music they desire without the aid of a label to eventually leech off the fruits of that labor. But on the flip side, that same aid gets you the resources to execute your vision to a higher degree. So it can be subjective. I personally know that I want to maintain ownership and control of my music so I will move accordingly.

I respect that, and I think it means a lot to certain fans these days, too. But as you mentioned, there are a lot of great labels that are run by people with good taste who truly want to help artists, too. I think staying open to the right opportunities always helps the artist. So, what does the end game look like for you right now? What are your most immediate goals?

Definitely building a platform to get my music heard and connect to more people. And to create more opportunities for myself in music as a result of that, so yes, playing more live shows and finding more collaborators. I really don’t know if I’m seeking a label or ever will be because I would like to keep my autonomy, haha. But as I continue to learn more about the industry and business aspect of music maybe that will change, who knows. I’m kind of going with the flow right now but I would like to continue down this path and just grow organically.

I’m all about organic growth, I think it serves the artists best. Another non sequitur, but I really want your perspective. How do you feel about the expanding space for black artists and black music right now? Does it inspire you to witness and participate in the shifting of people’s perception of what Black music is?

I love that the perception is changing surrounding the expanding space for black artists. And the reason I say perception is because, to me, black artists created many if not all of the genres many other artists take credit for so this was ours to begin with! It absolutely inspires me because while marketing is important and influences so much, I think social media has given black artists back the power to create space for whatever we want to do. We can create our own lanes.

We absolutely can. Personally, I think TikTok has been a great platform to bring greater visibility to Black alternative artists. Would you agree it’s more instrumental to this than other platforms?

I would say yes! All of the algorithms have their bias (we know this for sure) but the main thing I like about tiktok’s algorithm is that it seems to really tailor itself to its specific audience and as a result, we can uplift our own people more. I love that.

For sure. I love the music community, seeing artists’ creativity and the way people engage each other on topics there. So…here’s a prompt for you. What are two of your favorite albums that you consider polar opposites?

This is such a good and hard question haha. I’d say The Beauty In Distortion by J*Davey and Homogenic by Bjork. The reason I say this is because while both albums are beat-centric and make use of distortion at times, the end result was so different. Another pairing imma list is Girl In The Half Pearl by Liv.e and Strange Mercy by St. Vincent. I love these albums and both have a melancholic vibe but in different ways. The music nerd in me wants to point out how both of them are from Dallas, Tx haha.

I still haven’t listened to Liv.e. I keep hearing she is amazing, I really need to get it together. So with artists releasing singles and really taking their time to release a full album now, I have to ask - especially younger artists - what do you prefer more, full albums or singles/playlists?

I love full albums to the core. I love the concept of bringing to life a whole project with such an intention and tying something together like that. And the way an entire album can become like a capsule of a certain time over a collection of songs as opposed to one. The rollout, the aesthetic, the concept/theme, the sonic choices that tie everything together is just the most satisfying thing. And to experience it the way the artist intended. I love it. (Singles/playlists are great too tho! haha)

I agree so much. I love it. I accept other answers, but I love this answer.

Your content is really fun to watch because you’re wholesome yet so confident! I can tell you really love guitar and the process of constructing songs. Do you draw a distinction between the songwriting process and production or are the lines more blurry?

Thank you, haha. It took and is still taking a long way to exude confidence in it so I appreciate that. I would say it's more blurry for me because I tend to do both interchangeably. When I write it's not just about the song structure and content but I usually also have an idea of how I want it to sound once it's clearly conceptualized in my head and I'm trying to get it out and recorded. So for example, I might write a lyric and a melody but I also hear that it HAS to have this kind of delay on it or it doesn't feel complete haha. If that makes sense.

It makes perfect sense. That’s part of why I think the recorded medium really adds to the experience of songwriting. You have that control, but a responsibility not to exhaust yourself or exhaust the song. Do you believe in the concept of a magnum opus? Do you think people can strive for it or do you think it just happens?

I think it’s subjective. But in the case of it happening, I tend to believe it just happens, and the best way it happens is when an artist has grown into themselves and found a sound that is THEM. I’ve thought about this in terms of when an artist self-titles an album. They believed after however many projects they previously put out that this one embodied THEM fully. Yet, that could still not be the album of theirs that is considered magnum opus to listeners haha.

Haha, true! True. When I was a kid a self-titled album used to really bother me and I think maybe that had something to do with why but I never articulated it. Or I just thought they were lazy. I don’t know.

So here’s a wild card question. Do you believe in reincarnation?

Yes. Energy just recycles and we are energetic beings having a human experience.

Me too. I really hope next time I get to be something other than human. How much do you feel like you infuse your life philosophies into your songwriting?

A lot haha. I’m very interested in the metaphysical and spiritual. And it’s just natural to sneak in those existential concepts when that’s what all of this is haha. Art and creation fragment themselves and are imitating and experiencing themselves. Ourselves!

I’m definitely a sucker for artists who do this, probably because I vibe with it pretty deep myself. So What’s on deck in 2023 for Kam Theory? What are you looking forward to? What can your new fans look forward to?

I definitely have goals in mind for this year musically but they are also dependent on my personal life goals at the moment haha. I definitely will just be taking opportunities as they present themselves and making more of them. But if all goes well I'll be performing more and collaborating more, and I'll finally release a project as opposed to just singles. Let's hope for and manifest the best! :)

WE HERE HOPE FOR AND MANIFEST THE BEST FOR KAM THEORY <3

(Originally published on beastsunltd.com March 8th, 2023)

#new music #neo soul #rnb #black alternative #diy #kam theory #Spotify #stubborn society

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rinwellisathing · 4 months ago

Text

Paint The Lines, Cut The Flesh: Part 20

Sentry sat alone in his tent, knees to his chest, head lowered. He didn't even look up as the tent flap lifted and two people entered, slowly sitting across from him. Kroger's piercing green eyes studied him carefully while Jaheira regarded him warily, the lines on her face prominent as focused frown crossed her features. “What? What did I do now?” Sentry groaned miserably. “I've already put Halsin in danger....” “His rescue relies very much on learning why you, specifically, feel responsible for that, Mr. Ojeda.” Kroger replied evenly. “The tiefling woman who brought the injured drow here shared a bit of information with me while I treated her companion, I want to give you the opportunity to tell me in your own words, to come clean.” Jaheira continued to regard Sentry wordlessly, as though waiting to see what he might say. Her gaze looked so accusing, though not hateful. It was a strange look, almost pitying. “Well, I know there's something wrong with me...and I'm starting to think it isn't actually a curse...” He frowned a moment and shook his head. “Actually, I think I've realized it wasn't a curse for a while now...I think I'm something rotten, something evil....” He continued, scratching his upper arm nervously. “Orin's my sister, apparently...or something like that, I have these terrible murderous urges...and I find beauty in destruction...Not to mention that weird imp that follows me...” “Our guest called you a Bhaalspawn, more to the point, Bhaal's chosen son.” Jaheira replied. “I have fought Bhaalspawn but I have also journeyed by their side and seen them fight against their nature...My question to you, Sentry, is do you have the courage to do that?” “Of course I do!” Sentry replied. “Look, I may not be a perfect paladin and honestly I don't want to stop finding beauty in death, but I don't WANT to hurt people who don't deserve it...and I never wanted Halsin or Astarion to get hurt.”

Jaheira gave a small chuckle. “Ha! The bit about beauty in death just sounds like a typical teenager to me. That, I can simply chalk up to a stunted childhood. But I do believe you care for your friends and that you want your mind to be your own.” Her expression softened. “Look, boy, as I said before, your mother was a friend of mine, she would not have helped you become what you are today if she didn't see something good in you, I trusted Evagria Ojeda and so I will trust you. But with that said, should you decide to follow your father after all, I will not hesitate to end you.” “Fair enough...” Sentry nodded, then he looked to Kroger apologetically. “I should probably tell the others, shouldn't I?” “That's up to you, but knowing exactly what we're up against will give us a decided advantage.” The githyanki replied. “And Sentry...my sisters and I understand what it's like to be judged for what you are and where you come from, we won't turn our backs on you as long as you don't turn yours on us. If we can count on you to help us save Orpheus, you can count on us to help you rescue Halsin.”

---- Sentry knelt near his tent, gently stroking Scratch's soft ears and nuzzling into his soft white fur. “Hey buddy, I know there's someplace here you don't want to go back to....believe me, I'd never make you, but I need you to come into the city with me, I need your help. Without Halsin, only you've got a sharp enough sense of smell to track anything down and we need to find him.” Scratch wagged his tail and pranced a bit in place. “Of course, friend. Halsin's a nice man, he always shares plenty of food with me and makes sure Nibbles and I have space to run. He's even been kind to Us, strange creature though it is. He's part of the pack!” Sentry smiled gratefully. “That he is, Scratch my boy.” He scratched vigorously at the dog's sides. “We're tracking Halsin's sent, but also this....” He offered the list Astarion had given him. “I know it probably smells like me and Astarion now, but underneath there should be another smell...”

“A dwarf.” Scratch immediately piped up, burying his nose in the parchment and sniffing vigorously. “The smell of death is all over him, but not like you, there's a badness to him...” “Yes, exactly.” Sentry nodded. “Let me gather a group together and we'll go. Also, I promise there's a juicy steak in it for you for your help.”

“I'd do it for nothing to help Halsin, but that does sound pleasant! Nibbles will leap for joy.” Scratch wagged his tail. Within a moment, Jaheira, Astarion, and Kroger had joined Sentry and Scratch and were prepared to head out on the hunt. They faced the other party, which consisted of Jaina, Karlach, Wyll, Gale, and Shadowheart to discuss their plans and where and when they would reconvene. Lae'zel and Octavia had opted to remain at camp to keep an eye on Minthara, who nobody quite trusted still, and to try and learn more from Gabraela. “We plan to find Sorcerous Sundries and ask after this book Gale thinks might help us, The Annals of Karsus.” Wyll explained. Despite the severity of their situation, Sentry couldn't help but crack a grin. “I'm sorry, the what?” Karlach stifled a giggle as well and Jaina briefly gave a begrudging little smirk before dutifully forcing it back to a serious expression. “Rest assured, it is of utmost importance to understanding the crown and how it may be effecting the Elder Brain.” Gale explained through gritted teeth. “We're all adults here and you all know exactly what the book is called now.” “Right, right, okay...and meanwhile, our group will look for evidence of this killer and track the Bhaal cult to find Halsin.” Sentry replied. “We ought to reconvene back at camp by nightfall.” Jaheira suggested. “Unless of course something comes up. We play it by ear then.” With their paths decided, the two parties split up, making their way into the city. Scratch led Sentry's group, eagerly sniffing at the ground as he went. Meanwhile, Jaina took the lead of the other party, having lived in the city most recently and knowing best the current landmarks. --- Wyll's party made their way through the city, he found himself smiling a bit as Karlach gasped with excitement, pointing out landmarks she remembered and remarking on new things she saw. Jaina happily discussed the sights with her, explaining some of the newer places and reminiscing about the places Karlach remembered. Wyll found himself especially happy to see the lower city park, where he remembered playing as a child. The party naturally found themselves stopping for a moment.

“Ah, a fine place to relax with a good book, unfortunately not as common outdoors in Waterdeep.” Gale smiled approvingly at the beautiful garden, peaceful fountains, and small pockets of people chatting or picnicing. “I remember playing here when I was little, there was nothing like finding a good stick for my sword and fighting imaginary monsters.” Wyll smiled wistfully. A small group of children, mostly elven and human rushed up to the party, eyes wide. “Miss Jaina! It's you!” “Miss Jaina? Where have you been!? We've missed you!” “Miss Jaina, who are your friends? They're so cool!” “Whoa! One at a time, friends.” Jaina smiled warmly. “It's good to see you again. I just took a little unexpected trip.” Shadowheart smiled and actually laughed a bit as she watched Jaina with the children. “They're adorable. These are former students, then?” “Hey! I recognize him! That's The Blade of Frontiers! My cousin saw him once, he has the same eye and the same scars! You're friends with a big hero?!” A young girl with messy straw colored hair and freckles gasped. Wyll was taken aback a moment at being recognized back home, but chuckled happily. “You've got me, my friend.” He took a knee to be eye level with the children. “But would you like to know a secret?” The kids leaned in eagerly. This was a real hero! An exciting experience for any child and especially so far from the frontier itself. They eagerly awaited with bated breath for what Wyll had to see. “Your teacher is a hero as well, she's been helping me on my adventures. That's where she's been. We're partners.” Wyll smiled widely as the children all gasped with excitement and looked at Jaina in awe. Soon, their little eyes caught Karlach, Shadowheart, and Gale. “Who are they, Mr. Blade?” “That lady with the big axe is so cool!” “ Is that man an archmage!?” “Are you a princess, miss?” The children leapt about like eager puppies, asking a thousand questions a second it seemed. “Oh! Mr. Blade! Would you play with us?” The children finally asked. “I suppose we have time, don't we?” Wyll asked with a kind smile. The rest of the party agreed and joined the children at their games, at least for a while, enjoying the moment of revisiting childhood, for a brief time able to be care free and forget about the troubles of their quest. ----

Scratch led the party up the stairs to an ornate door of a gilded and gaudy shop near the bridge to the upper city. He pawed at the door and barked loudly, pacing back and forth as he waited for the party to join him atop the steps. “Yeah, believe it or not, I recognize this place.” Sentry nodded. He could recall sitting in the corner in his comfortable black gambeson and breeches, a black hooded cloak and leather gloves as well as his favorite black and silver buckled boots watching Enver try on a jacket for a gala some patriars had insisted that he attend. He recalled the gregarious, well styled dwarf laden in fine jewelry, rings, and silks, telling him that his style could certainly use a bit of an update if he was going to be working with a lord. “This is Facemaker Boutique.” Kroger winced as he looked the building over. “The décor is a bit much, I'm not an expert on Istik fashion, but wouldn't the garishness take away from the clothing itself?” “Yeah...but that's just who this guy is as a person.” Sentry shrugged, pushing open the door with a pleasant little chime of a bell. “Huh...weird....I think he usually rushes to see if it's a customer worth fawning over...” Sentry frowned as he made his way into the shop, the rest of the party following. “Well, garish as his store is, the stitchwork on his pieces is quite good, actually.” Astarion mused, raising a brow as though surprised by how impressed he was with the quality of the garments on display. “Give me good linen any day. Frippery like this will tear the moment you draw back a bowstring.” Jaheira shrugged. Scratch gave a loud bark and began to growl, bolting into the shop's fitting area, snapping and snarling. Sentry hurried after him, the rest of the party moving double time behind him. There before them, a gnomish woman in Flaming Fist garb lay stunned on the floor and a young well dressed dwarf in blue sat paralyzed in a chair while a very plain looking dwarvish man in red circled him with sewing scissors.

“Oh now that's unforgiveable! Come now! I can excuse murder, but sewing scissors? On flesh?!” Astarion scoffed, his expression somewhere between mortified and furious. Sentry couldn't help but smile, there was an artist under the years of pain and want Astarion had been through, Sentry could appreciate that. “Yeah, idiot! You'll dull the blades beyond repair! Fuck, I'd kill you just for thinking of doing that!” “Fewer quips and more hits, please.” Jaheira chastised as a small group of dopplegangers burst into the room, engaging the party. Luckily, they hadn't expected an animal companion as Scratch evened the odds a bit, leaping on one and latching his sharp teeth around its throat, shaking more roughly than he'd done with any toy.

---- “You know, meeting your students made me think a bit, Jaina.” Shadowheart walked beside the tiefling as they continued through the city towards Sorcerous Sundries. “Maybe once I've rescued my parents, once I'm free of Shar entirely...Maybe I ought to teach.”

“It's very rewarding, but also it can be a lot.” Jaina admitted. “There's a lot more backstabbing and politics to it than you think. The students are great, but your colleagues and a lot of the parents? Not so much.” She explained. “Still, with what you've dealt with as a Sharran, you could probably handle it, actually, and truth be told it would be nice to have a friend on staff.” “I would watch your back. Replace all those backstabbing old women's wine with cheap vinegar, perhaps.” Shadowheart smiled and gave a laugh, tossing a friendly arm around Jaina's shoulders. “Or perhaps a hair loss tonic in their morning coffee and tea.” Jaina grinned. “I like it!” Shadowheart nodded her approval. “We'll be partners in crime.” The party stopped, finding themselves in the shadow of an impossibly tall building towering at the center of a pleasant public square. Their eyes all raised in unison to look up and behold the wonder that was Ramazith's Tower, home of Sorcerous Sundries. The entire place seemed to glimmer with the effervescent glow of magic and strange arcane powered automatons guarded the entrance, where a familiar face stood, yelling angrily at the impassive machines.

“Ugh...It's you hellspawn again.” The human spat, glaring at Jaina and Karlach. “Missing your violent friend, though, aren't you?” Jaina smirked, folding her arms across her chest. “Your healer is awful, Aradin. Sentry punched you, what? A couple weeks ago? I'd think you'd have gotten that healed by now.” “It's a different injury, you smart mouthed bitch.” The human sneered, not seeming to notice Wyll and Karlach's hands both going towards their weapons. “What are you doing here anyway? Is this just your thing? Being locked out of places? Being unwanted?” Shadowheart raised a brown. “I want compensation for what I went through on that gods damned Nightsong quest! I lost a lot of good men, damnit.” He snapped. “Huh...I thought to get paid for a quest you had to, y'know, do the quest.” Karlach snorted. “We all know you didn't find the Nightsong anyway seeing as we did.” “Karlach!” Gale hissed. “It would have ended in failure anyway, the Nightsong isn't some artifact, she's a person, and she's free now.” Wyll explained. “Maybe it's time you let this go and found another contract elsewhere.” “No...If this Nightsong's free, I'm gonna find her and bring her here like I planned....You watch.” The arrogant human shoved past the party and back into the streets. “Well, if it's any consolation, Aylin'll knock the stuffing out of him before he can do anything.” Karlach laughed. “She'd snap that guy like a badly made wand!” Jaina nodded. “True, I certainly wouldn't want to be her enemy.” She smiled as the party made their way into the store, where her smile quickly faltered as she hurried over to the counter.

“Looks like Rolan made it to his apprenticeship after all.” Karlach murmured. “Looking a bit worse for wear though, isn't he?” “Welcome to Sorcerous Sundries...Oh...it's you, Miss Thalassia.” Rolan frowned a bit, immediately turning his head. “Rolan, what happened?” Jaina frowned, peering closely at the bruises and lacerations. “And don't tell me you fell, do you know how many times I hear that story?” “It's nothing. Look, I need to keep up with my work, so if you'd like to purchase something, I'm here...Or if you've got information on The Nightsong, there's a portal upstairs to speak with my master...”

“Where are Cal and Lia? I know they wouldn't allow this to happen to you.” Jaina persisted. Rolan's expression fell and he glared. “I don't need anyone to protect me, I'm fine. Now are you going to buy something? If not, leave me to my duties.” Jaina pursed her lips and stormed away from the counter. “Fine, maybe I DO have some information about The Nightsong after all...” She muttered under her breath, practically flying towards the stairs as images of Dame Aylin pummeling the master of this tower filled her mind. Shadowheart and Karlach exchanged a glance as the rest of the party followed. ----- When the dust settled, the dopplegangers lay dead on the floor, Jaheira turning back from a massive, sleek panther and Scratch sitting calmly as his last enemy twitched one final time. Kroger saw to some superficial wounds on Astarion's body as Sentry towered over Dolor's prone form. “You really thought you had what it took to be an Unholy Assassin...” Sentry stomped on one of the dwarf's legs brutally, snapping the limb beneath his foot as he glared down, eyes filled with contempt and rage. “You thought you were real frightening, didn't you?” He crushed his hand under his boot next. The dwarf's eyes were wide with fear as he gazed up at Sentry, like staring down a monster in a horror story. “You...you're not even chosen anymore! Orin said!” He stammered. “Why do you even care!?” “Because Father Lorgan deserved better....” Sentry plunged the dagger he had reclaimed from the Open Hand murder site into Dolor's shoulder, leaning in close, his breath hot as the hells against the dwarf's face. “And your mother deserved better....She always did....You should have been a better son, Dolor.” And with that, Sentry stood up and brought his boot down on Dolor's head again and again, pulping his unremarkable features, caving his skull like a summer time sun melon. His boot came down again and again until finally Jaheira gripped his shoulder and looked up at him with a slightly unsettled expression. “I'm pretty sure you've killed him, boy...” She assured Sentry. “Now we ought to see to the victims we can still save.” She nodded towards the Flaming Fist and the clothing maker. Sentry lowered his head sheepishly and nodded his agreement, moving to untie Figaro from his restraints as Kroger moved over to the gnomish woman and gestured a restoration spell, blue-green light enveloping her and allowing her to move again as the Githyanki examined her carefully.

“Ah...thank you for rescuing me, sir...Truly a horrifying experience.” Facemaker shuddered, standing up and gingerly picking his way past the corpse of his would-be murderer. “Can you image? Choosing to wear all red like that? And such cheap leather!” Sentry chuckled. “Yeah, pretty tacky if you ask me...Uh...hey, um I know you've only just been rescued from a pretty terrible experience, but...ah...” Sentry's eyes turned towards Astarion, who was looting the corpse of a large doppleganger. His clothing, though once fine, had certainly seen better days and the tiefling knew how lovingly the elf cared for hit. Figaro followed sentry's gaze and nodded. “Ah! Say no more. I would be a poor style maker indeed if a little thing like attempted murder distracted me from my calling, step into my office....for your man, I'm thinking a stunning little blue and gold number I've recently made and for you.....” He placed a hand genially on Sentry's back, guiding him into the shop proper. ---- The items the party had found on Dolor led them to a dilapidated little shop nestled just beside the cemetery, a tombstone shop, most predictably. Sentry slowly approached the door and very carefully pressed against it. Finding it locked, he nodded to Astarion, who stepped up to swiftly deal with the obstacle. Walking inside, the party felt a heavy chill over them as they made their way through the rows of sample tombstones. Kroger reached into his pack and carefully extracted a pair of white cotton gloves, putting them on and slowly beginning to examine the stones. “The names on these are the same as the ones on the list...” He murmured, his fingers moving over the chiseled letters. “Perhaps after we've rescued Halsin, we may wish to explore some of these other victims, I assume we're still looking for parts of that clown? And perhaps more information on your past as well, Sentry.” Sentry nodded his agreement. “That makes sense...yes...” He came to the last room in the shop, approaching a door in the wall and fumbling with Dolor's various notes and letters for the pass phrase. “Sicarius...” And with the word uttered, the door slid open, leading into a dark, cold cellar. The area was so familiar to Sentry, as though he had been here a thousand times. Something twisted in his stomach, a sick sense of fear and anxiety. As he passed through the corridor and into the large chamber which housed a massive door, he was only vaguely aware that the rest of his party was with him.

As he approached the door, Kroger stopped him with a quick grip of the shoulder and handed him the dripping, bloodied bag they'd taken off of Dolor's corpse. “I would imagine you're going to need these in order to gain access.” He explained. “Well, I did take his hand as well, but it's kind of crushed, so...you're probably right.” Sentry nodded appreciatively as he approached the guards. “Hey! I've got your trophies here, so let's see this murder tribunal, huh?” He put on a brave face, mustering as much bravado as he could, not wanting to think about what was making him feel so anxious in a place he should have felt at home. “Present me well from gifts thine own or I will rend your flesh from bone.” The largest of the knights standing before the door intoned ominously. “Easily. D'you know how many people I killed today alone? I'm a pretty big deal.” Sentry forced a flippant smirk, producing a hand from the bag and holding it out to the guard as though offering a handshake. “Then enter...” The guard accepted the hand and stood aside, the doors creaking open and allowing Sentry and his party to enter. The Murder Tribunal's chamber was more frigid stone, stained with ancient blood. They were seated at the far end of the room on thrones of ordinary stone without cushion and watching the party enter. As Sentry gazed foreward, his eyes met a penetrating molten yellow gaze and he froze, eyes wide with fear as he stood there, bile rising in his throat as he was transported back to the breeding cell, back to Vereena. His head was pressed roughly into the pungent straw that lined the cage, the scent of so many fluids filling his nostrils, tears and snot staining his face. He could feel the blood running freely down his inner thighs and the pain that traveled all the way up to his belly with each agonizing thrust. He saw that same face leering down at him, cold and authoritative just as it was now. “Vereena....you return to your family at last...” The figure growled from his place atop the dais.

The others looked to Sentry in confusion. The tiefling bristled, his tail raised stiffly and arched. His eyes narrowed angrily. “Fuck you. My name is Sentry.” “You may call yourself what you like, Vereena, but it does not change what our father intended for you.” The figure sneered. “Sarevok Anchev....I can't say this is a pleasant surprise.” Jaheira spat the name like an unpleasant taste. “Hmm...The absent harper returns....Your keen sense for this city has withered in your absence..” Sarevok sneered at her. “I can only assume you've brought her here as a sacrifice, Vereena.” He looked to Sentry. The tiefling tensed, his shoulders stiff, his tail raised in anger, but twitching nervously. Jaheira and the others both knew Sentry was frightened, unsure if he could defeat Sarevok in combat. “Stop...calling me that....” Sentry muttered, his body shaking. “Well, you heard him, old man.” Astarion stepped up beside Sentry, arms folded across his chest. “Address him properly, will you?” Sarevok rose to his feet, leering down at Sentry. “You come in here, masquerading as a man, calling yourself by the name that woman gave you and bringing an enemy of our father to his tribunal's inner sanctum....I will tame you, Vereena, I will show you your place...and I will make sacrifices of your companions.” “I had been told Istik family reunions were a dreaded occasion, but this feels excessive.” Kroger winced, summoning a glowing glaive to his side as Jaheira drew her scimitars and Astarion drew his bow. “Sentry, dear, now would be a good time to snap out of it. Channel a bit of that anger, perhaps, darling?” Astarion's eyes darted to Sentry, who still seemed quite paralyzed. Sarevok leapt down from the dais, sword drawn as he took a swing at Sentry. Within a split second, the tiefling's halberd was in his hands, meeting the weapon and forcing Sarevok back with a mighty shove. “I have wanted to kill you since I was six years old, Sarevok.....Fuck you and fuck father for what you did to me.” Sentry spat. -----

Sentry panted heavily, his armor battered, blood and bruising covering any skin that remained exposed, and his body hunched with exhaustion, but he stomped slowly towards Sarevok, who was sprawled across the floor in front of the dais, trying to push himself back up to his feet. He smirked at Sentry, spitting blood on the ground in front of him. His helmet had fallen from his head. “You may think you're free, Vereena, but father cannot be defeated like this and he won't simply let his chosen go, not when your womb could spawn so many children stronger even than you....” He was cut off as Sentry grasped his throat, squeezing his windpipe. “Shut up....” He growled, dragging Sarevok up the dais to the solid stone seat he had sat upon when Sentry had entered. “Shut up.” He snarled again, slamming Sarevok's head into the edge of the throne. “Shut up!” Again. “Shut up!” Again. “Shut up!!!!” His growled became screams as he slammed Sarevok's head into the stone again and again until there was nothing recognizable of his sibling's face. Tears trickled openly down Sentry's cheeks as he stood over the corpse, glaring down at it. He was silent in that moment, his throat raw and aching from screaming, his hands caked in blood. He didn't know if he was going to break down sobbing or be sick to his stomach, it was all too much. “There now...He's gone, kid...He can harm you no longer.” Jaheira's voice broke through the static in Sentry's mind. “Nor anyone else for that matter. Now, let's try and find some clue as to where they've taken Halsin and get out of here as quickly as we can.” She gently guided him down from the dais and Sentry followed somewhat numbly, eyes wide as he stared forward. Kroger wrinkled his nose and put on a pair of sheep skin gloves that went up to his elbows, making his way over to Sarevok's corpse and rifling through his pouches. “It seems he had a key and some sort of amulet.” The Githyanki announced. “I'm assuming the key goes to one of the doors on either side of the room.” “Well, he was a high ranking cultist, we can assume there has to be SOMETHING of value in this cesspit.” Astarion sniffed, approaching the door to the right of the dais and claiming the key Kroger handed to him.

As the door swung open, a familiar, if unwelcome figure greeted them. A small hollyphant in a sharp hat hovering bound by a cruel chain above a pit of what appeared to be blood. Sentry groaned in frustration and slumped his shoulders. “Fuck, of course we accidentally rescued the useless inspector....Of course we did.” He muttered, but the strain of seeing Sarevok again and the crash after all the adrenaline that had coursed through him as he ended him kept Sentry from expressing further disappointment. “Astarion, can you let her go so I don't have to deal with it? I'm too tired to gloat about being right...” “Not to worry, darling, I can do it for you.” Astarion neatly slipped by and began to undo the chains. “So...I suppose this means that dear Sentry was right about those murders, hmm?” He gave a falsely pleasant little smirk. “Yes, yes....No need to rub it in....” She huffed. “At any rate, you came just in time...they were planning to sacrifice me to Bhaal....” A shudder coursed through her yellow-gold flesh. “Any way, this is far above my paygrade, this sort of thing is hero work...I trust you can handle it from here?” “Just like The City Watch to be utterly useless.” Jaheira shook her head as the little creature flew from the room. The party crossed the hall to the door on the opposite side of the room and Sentry pushed the door open, peering slowly inside. Seeing a small office at the back, he made his way towards the desk, examining the papers and books strewn across it. One in particular caught his eye and his fingers brushed over it before he shakily raised it to read.

“Oh Orin...” He whispered, biting his lip. His mind reeled with memories as the story on the paper revealed itself. She was Sarevok's child the whole time...the spawn of a twisted union with his own daughter. His stomach turned just thinking of it, and then the manipulation, he would have let Orin die if father hadn't preferred her over Helena. This whole time, his sister was a pawn on Sarevok's board, this entire time he had groomed her, twisted her to his will. Sentry supposed that accounted for her changed attitude towards him near the end. He was only dimly aware of the rest of the party searching the room, Astarion looking for gold or something valuable, Kroger for anything of use in healing, Jaheira likely for old remembrances. All the while, Sentry stood there, reading and re-reading with disbelief as memories of Orin troubled his already reeling mind. His little sister...

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candlelightdiaries · 5 months ago

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This blog is likely going to have more than one post per day. I just got a lot of thoughts, ya know?

I just had an amazing spiritual experience with a friend of mine who is pagan, and I think I understand a little bit better what serenity feels like. We were drawing tarot cards to see what our topic of conversation should be after our AA meeting tomorrow morning and she pulled a card and I lit a candle on my alter then pulled the tower. At first I was scared because I was like “oh shit, more crazy shit is about to be happening in my life, idk if I can handle this”. I started reflecting to her about how I’ve been having these mini mental breakdowns lately and how overwhelmed I feel about change, and how stressed out I’ve been even just thinking about the concept of my higher power. I told her that I’m afraid I’m not a witch or pagan because I really want to be. I’ve always felt drawn to it. I told her about how I don’t know what is right and what is wrong to believe and while I know there is no right or wrong but I’m scared there is. I’ve had so much stress and change lately but I didn’t realize I needed to get thi out. I feel like she is one of the few people I can talk to about the Powers That Be because there aren’t a ton of pagans/witches in AA, at the very least that I know about in my area. I left the candle on the whole conversation because I wanted to invite the Powers That Be into the conversation. I felt such a sense of peace and continued to meditate after we ended the call. My friend said she would help me as much as she can on my journey into a spiritual practice and it feels so good to know that I’m not alone in figuring this out. I’m so stuck on doing everything “right” that I’m keeping myself from actually practicing my beliefs. I need to start reading the books that I have on witchcraft and paganism and actually figure out my beliefs and what my options are. I like having something organized and structured to go off of when it comes to the Powers That Be but I think I need to accept that I need to make my own structure. That doesn’t mean I can’t have help from those around me but I don’t want to be afraid anymore. I want a sense of comfort from my higher power and to not feel alone in a spiritual sense. I don’t want a “me vs them” attitude, I want a “we’re in this together” attitude with the Powers That Be.

I sat and watched the candle after we got off the phone and the flame remained steady. This made me feel a sense of comfort, knowing that things would be okay and the Powers That Be were and still are with me. Drawing the tower card feels like a blessing. I thought that our conversation tomorrow would have to be about more shit that’s going to happen in my life, but in reality I just needed to talk about the chaos and change that is going on currently in my life, I just needed to let it out today. The right time for the conversation was tonight and I am so thankful to the Powers That Be for guiding me and helping me to be open with my friend, because it has helped me so much. Thank you, whatever is out there.

I feel like I could write forever about this. I have so many feelings and thoughts but I think it might be best to just have a quiet night to reflect. I feel like I’m in this meditative and spiritual state and I don’t want to lose it because it feels amazing. My friend and I are going to meet sometime soon one-on-one to talk more about this and I’m actually really exited to. I want this to be a fun journey of learning and finding my beliefs.

What I’ve learned tonight is that I am not alone with my thoughts and there is so much value in sharing them with other people. I am so grateful for my friend and I’m grateful to whatever is out there that I will come to believe in. It’s okay to not know what’s going on and it’s okay to talk about those things. I have a taste of peacefulness and comfort and I want to keep it around. I got this, I am going to be okay. Maybe this is what I need to help give up control and follow the will of the Powers That Be. Goodnight.

#spirituality #AA #higher power #pagan #paganblr #rambling thoughts #Powers That Be #new witch #candlelight diaries #I wonder if this is what faith feels like #serenity #reflection #thanks for letting me share #witch #i love my friends so much #sobriety

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hamberder-km · 2 years ago

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An Invitation Accepted

Today I arrived at the manor of Lady Jamandi Aldori, Swordlord of the free city of Restov in Brevoy. I have been summoned here by my friend Orin Absalom (volume 3, page 281 and beyond) who passed along to me, during my most recent stay at the Monastery Breksta, a flyer promoting a venture to reclaim what Brevoy refers to as 'the Stolen Lands'. I bring along with me Noelle Roen (volume 4, page 103 and beyond) from Breksta and Orin has brought his friend Mina Bellflower, a sprite with the most impeccable of manners. I look forward to hearing the stories she has to tell.

The four of us were, thankfully, seated at the same table. With us were also seated the following individuals: a Human noble: Maegar Varn, a pale Elf: Jaethal, a Gnome: Tartuccio, and a Halfling: Linzi. Of most interest to me was Jaethal who's skin is even paler than mine and who's silver eyes very closely mirror mine own. Linzi and Noelle seem to me to be two kindred spirits. Tartuccio seems to have little time or care for anyone else, even maligning the importance of our host. Maegar, as many in his position are wont, is polite enough but very sure of his own worth and importance. Through the course of the meal the four of us came to know those we would be exploring the lands to the south alongside us a bit better.

About Maegar, we learned, that he is the 3rd son of a swordlord who is hoping to use connections he has previously made with the Nomen, centaurs in the Stolen Lands. He hopes to found a city, Varnhold, in the lands and to expand the name of his family in any way he can. He and Mina formed the beginnings of a camaraderie as she also has associations with the Nomen.

Linzi exudes a love for life, greatly enjoying food, music, and all that the world has to offer. She and Noelle are of the same soul and I look forward to reading the novel that she writes about Noelle's journey into her own.

I genuinely hope that I will never hear the name Tartuccio again after this meal. The man is a brash and dismissive fellow who loves the sound of his own voice. If you meet him, ask him about his travels to the city of Absolom and you will have your hours filled for you. Lastly, Jaethal is a mystery that I hope to unravel at some point in the future. She says little about herself and is quite defensive of where she came from as if to avoid further harm. As I have tried to in the past, I hope to provide whatever succor I can to this fragile soul, should we cross paths again. She says that she is looking for someone named Andrial. She says the name with much importance, but no explaination... perhaps I shall keep mine own ears perked should I hear the name in the future.

As dinner wound down, the Lady Aldori bid us a good eve and said that tomorrow we shall all receive specific requests or instructions. She honored me greatly by allowing me to play the Ballad of Choral the Conqueror for her and the gathered crowd as she departed.

#pf2e #pathfinder kingmaker

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morethanjustmediocremusings · 2 years ago

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How Epidemics Have Unexpectedly Changed My Life

Taylor Abouzeid Dr. Ruszczycky WGS 302-01 16 March 2021

Approaching a class essentially focused on the HIV/AIDS epidemic, I was honestly very intimidated. While I have always been curious about AIDS, I have never been privy to a space where it could be openly discussed. Therefore, I was highly uneducated on the subject, and if I am being honest, I was terrified of my own ignorance of the subject. As a queer woman I felt like a “bad” member of the LGBTQIA+ community due to my lack of knowledge in the area. I am so thankful that this class has given me the safe space to begin learning about such an important topic.

One of the most interesting concepts I have engaged with this quarter was the caricature of the “Truvada Whore,” as discussed in the Gonzalez reading (27-47). This subject had initially gained my interest because a close friend of mine had recently started their own journey with Truvada for PrEP. Their journey began a few months before this class and until then I had no clue of the stigma that surrounded this small pill. The Truvada Whore is described as gay male who goes on Truvada for PrEP with the intent of having lots of “unprotected” sex with many different partners, and through this action can proliferate with spread of STIs within the community (Gonzalez 27-47). By expanding my knowledge even further, I selected this reading for my in-class presentation. I was better able to start to understand the stigma my friend had to face daily being of PrEP.

Through the Gonzalez reading I was also able to discover many parallels between the HIV/AIDS epidemic and our current Covid-19 pandemic (27-47). The same scapegoating that had occurred with the start of the AIDS crisis has occurred today. With the AIDS crisis, gay men were targeted for their “unsafe” actions, they faced ats of hatred and more what felt like a target upon their back every day. Today, we have seen this same group stigmatization with Asian communities. Asian-American hate crimes have skyrocketed (Mai), and even in my hometown, local Chinese businesses have had to close due to a hatred of their community. It is through fear tactics that we can see the rise in hatred continue. Labeling Covid-19 as a “Chinese disease” (Vazquez) was horribly reminiscent of the common labeling of AIDS as a “gay disease.”

Another point of interest of mine throughout this class was in the Alexander reading “Bathhouses and Brothels: Symbolic Sites in Discourse and Practice” (221-249). I found the discussion of gay spaces to be absolutely fascinating. Prior to this class I has zero knowledge on this specific aspect of queer history. Personally, I found it terrifying to read about the targeting of queer spaces as sites of disease. While, yes, I can admit that the closure of such sites could be seen as beneficial for the community at large, the city mandate was a political intervention that I felt was unnecessary. In general, I have found the existence of such safe spaces for queer individuals to be difficult, and for such habitats to be taken away was shocking.

Although not directly applicable, with our current pandemic many safe queer spaces have once again been taken away from community members. We have seen Covid-19 disproportionally affect queer, disabled, POC and the total removal of these spaces just adds to their hardship. While many other sites of community resources have been reopened during the pandemic, I have still seen the permanent closure of many queer businesses, and subsequent safe spaces, in my own community. In such a time of peril, the removal of community spaces could not be more detrimental.

My final aspect of this course, and the thing that struck me the hardest, was seeing how close to home the AIDS epidemic was for so many individuals. When speaking with my mother for my HIV/AIDS interview I was heartbroken to hear the stories of her friends and loved ones. In the past I couldn’t even begin to comprehend just how much of an impact the AIDS crisis had on everyone, even on those outside the queer community. In recent years, like many, I have often found myself watching RuPaul’s Drag Race (RuPaul and Bailey). There have been numerous contestants on the show that share their story of HIV/AIDS and speak to their personal effects, and how those around them have reacted to their test results. Until this class, there is no way that I could have begun to understand the magnitude of their statements. I feel now, more than ever, that their courage and strength to share such intimate information is highly powerful for informed audience members.

While it is hard to tie this realization to just one reading, I accredit most of my emotional impact to the viewing assignment “How to Survive a Plague” (France 2012). The people that spoke and the stories they told were so real. To see their lives affected in such a monumental way was disheartening, their strength inspired me to continue my learning process. So many individuals gave everything they has to the cause, and for me to go so many years without appreciation now encourages me to continue learning myself and educating those around me of their efforts. Similar to how almost everyone could find a close relative or friend of a friend who had a story with HIV/AIDS, we all have connections to someone who has experienced a pandemic related hardship.

This course has changed my life. Gone are my days of thinking Dallas Buyers Club (Valee 2015) was the epitome of AIDS education. I now know that I have just begun my journey into the exploration of HIV/AIDS. Never before have I felt so passionate and attached to a course. I intend to continue my exploration alongside my peers, and I even have a scheduled call over Spring break with a few family friends who have been directly impacted by HIV/AIDs. I have made new connections with people I had never expected, I have found a community though my path of learning, and to my new friends I am eternally grateful.

Works Cited Alexander, Priscilla. “Bathhouses and Brothels: Symbolic Sites in Discourse and Practice.” Policing Public Sex: Queer Politics and the Future of AIDS Activism, by Ephen Glenn Colter, South End Press, 1996, pp. 221–249. France, David, director. How To Survive A Plague. Alexander Street, ACT UP, TAG, ProQuest, 2012. Gonzalez, Octavio. “HIV Pre-Exposure Prophylaxis (PrEP), ‘The Truvada Whore," and the New Gay Sexual Revolution.” RAW: PrEP, Pedagogy, and the Politics of Barebacking, by Ricky Varghese, University of Regina Press, 2019, pp. 27–47. Mai, H.J. “Asian Americans Experience 'Far More' Hate Incidents Than Numbers Indicate.” NPR, NPR, 11 Mar. 2021, www.npr.org/2021/03/11/975592502/asian-americans-experience-far-more-hate-incidents-than-numbers-indicate. RuPaul, and Fenton Bailey. RuPaul's Drag Race, Logo TV, VH1, 2009. Valee, Jean-Marc, director. Dallas Buyers Club. Koch Media, 2015. Vazquez, Marietta. “Calling COVID-19 the ‘Wuhan Virus’ or ‘China Virus’ Is Inaccurate and Xenophobic.” Yale School of Medicine, Yale School of Medicine, 12 Mar. 2020, medicine.yale.edu/news-article/23074/.

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atlabeth · 3 years ago

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everything happens for a reason part 3 - zuko x fem!reader

I feel so much, I get carried away

part 2 | masterlist | part 4

a/n: enjoy the fluff in this chapter bc its not gonna last

once again for reference - this chapter takes place 2 years after the last one so y/n is 11 and zuko is 12

warning(s): eating/food, but otherwise its pure fluff

wc: 3.3k

chapter title comes from carried away by madison beer!

i ran out of kid zuko gifs so i had to make my own smh if you want something done you gotta do it yourself

The young friendship only flourished after that fateful day. Zuko and Y/N began spending almost all of their freetime together between Y/N teaching him about her culture, their usual talking in the hallways, and finding ways to hang out together outside of her schedule. She was absolutely delighted to be teaching Zuko though, so she always made sure there was time for her self proclaimed academy.

Y/N was constantly busy around the castle, so in order to hang out they had started waking up extra early — the pair had become experts at sneaking around the castle with the first rays of the sun. The gardens were a favourite because of its availability, and of course, the turtleducks. It also gave Y/N a chance to bend outside of healing, something that they began to take advantage of as they got older.

Sparring sessions became a regular between them as a way for Y/N to get some practice with martial bending, Zuko to experience fighting against a waterbender, and just another way for them to spend time together. Of course, they had to keep it as quiet as possible to avoid alerting anyone of their presence, but that became the least of their worries over time.

They each pushed each other to be better, and with Y/N’s healing skills, they were able to walk away every morning without any injuries. But after discovering a very unfair advantage that the prince held, she decided that morning sparring just wasn’t enough.

(“Firebending gets stronger in the morning,” he had told her after a particularly brutal blast resulting in some emergency bending on Y/N’s part to extinguish a tree. “My teachers always say that we rise with the sun.”

“Well,” she had said with a smile. “We rise with the moon. You just signed yourself up for some late night sparring sessions.”)

Y/N had truly started to come into her own. It had been two years since her capture, and though she had in no way made peace with her life in the Fire Nation, she was trying to take advantage of it as much as she could. Even though she despised being at the beck and call of nobles and guards, she couldn’t deny the opportunities it gave her to hone her abilities. Her healing had improved tenfold and her martial bending wasn’t too shabby either. Between all of the time spent with Zuko and practicing her bending, she was able to distract herself from her dim reality.

But the world was a cruel, cruel place, no matter how much she tried to ignore it. It didn’t treat souls like Zuko and Y/N kindly, a fact that they would soon become aware of.

In the moment though, Y/N was more focused on not getting burnt.

She twirled to the side as a small flame shot past her, just barely managing to dodge it as she bent a stream of water out from the pond and sent it at Zuko. He turned it to steam as he blocked it with his own fire, which he then sent back at her with a combination of a punch and a kick. Y/N raised her hands and bent up a large wall of water from the pond, and with a small grunt on her part, sent it flying towards Zuko. He tried to conjure up his own fire shield in an effort to extinguish the water once more, but it was too little too late and he ended up getting knocked to the ground and completely drenched.

Y/N couldn’t stop the giggle that fell from her lips as Zuko wiped water off of his face, sputtering incoherently while he pushed himself up. “Did you really have to do that?” he complained.

“You know I do.” She grinned as she walked around the pond to his side, cracking her knuckles before she began to bend the water out of his clothes. “This was in the morning, too. Admit it, I’m getting better!”

He cracked a smile of his own. “You really are. I just wish that you getting better didn’t end up in me getting soaked every time.”

She bent the water she had extracted from his clothes back into the pond and held out her hand to help him up from the ground, which he took gratefully. “That just makes it more fun.”

As she helped pull him up, Y/N found herself more than a little transfixed. The rays of the rising sun shone down on him perfectly, and the smile still on his lips made her feel flutter bats in her stomach.

Y/N didn’t know when she had started seeing Zuko in a different light than usual. When his laughs became melodious, his smile like a ray of sunshine on its own, his company coveted. While she was usually able to trade verbal jabs with him without a second thought, doing her self-assigned job of keeping him humble, something had changed in the past year.

They grew steadily closer over the years after they had met, but one event in particular all but pushed Zuko into her arms.

Ursa’s banishment.

Of course, they didn’t know that she had been banished. No one aside from Ozai knew the true nature of her disappearance — to her children and the other inhabitants of the palace, it was just that. A disappearance.

It was suspicious, yes. All in the span of a day, Princess Ursa vanished, Fire Lord Azulon mysteriously perished, and Ozai took his place, but nothing could be done. It was a somber day for every servant — Ursa showed them a kindness that couldn’t be found anywhere else in the palace, and to rub salt in the wound, a man just as cruel as Azulon had risen to the throne.

Zuko was devastated. He had always been close with his mother, and the only thing she had given him before leaving was a short goodbye and a kiss. He was angry beyond belief at the abandonment, and that anger overshadowed his grief.

Y/N tried to help him, but he lashed out at her.

“Your mother is still here and she loves you! Mine left me like I was nothing. Don’t try and say you know how I feel.”

“But my father is gone. I do know how you feel Zuko, and I want to help you, but I can’t help you if you keep pushing me away.”

“…you don’t know anything.”

It hurt, but she knew he needed space. She gave it to him, letting him brew alone and take out his anger however necessary, but let him know that the door was open when he was ready to talk.

He did — he had apologized for what he said and she accepted, and Zuko ended up spilling every emotion he had to her over the next few weeks. She listened, offered advice when she could, and made Zuko feel a little bit less alone in the scheme of it all. It was a horrible experience, but it brought them closer together, and the prince was eternally thankful that he had a friend to help him through the ordeal.

The night that he came to her room, admitting that he was hurting and asking for her help — Y/N thinks that was the moment she fell for him. She cursed herself at the time for developing feelings for her only friend in the palace, but over time she learned to cover them up. She had to remember her place.

She understood her role, but it got harder and harder to keep up with it the more time she spent with Zuko — this moment was no exception.

“Yeah, yeah. I just hold back because I don’t want to burn you.”

“Liar!” she exclaimed, hitting him playfully on the shoulder. “You forget that I can heal myself if anything goes wrong. Besides, I know you’d never burn me. I trust you.”

Zuko smiled and smoothed his clothes back down, the only sign of their sparring session now gone. “Good, because I trust you too. No matter how many times you totally drench me.”

She snorted as she started to walk back to the palace. “Like I said, that just makes it more fun. And as fun as it has been completely crushing you in combat, duty calls.”

He sighed, giving a reluctant nod as he started to follow her — then his eyes lit up, and he grabbed her arm to stop them. “Wait, how much work do you have today?”

Y/N thought for a few seconds then shrugged. “Dunno, it varies. I got stuck working with Jaysa all this morning, so that’s going to take forever, I have my usual healing lessons with Master Rika after, and then I usually just end up going around with whatever else comes my way for the rest of the day.” She grinned and lowered her voice as if the subject of the matter could somehow hear her. “I’ve been working on a dress for my mother in secret because her birthday is coming up soon, so the free time I get between my shifts that isn’t spent with you has been going towards that.”

Zuko gaped. “You’re making her a dress all on your own, with no help? How?”

She held up her hands with a proud smile. “These things are good for waterbending, sewing, and hitting best friends.”

He gave her a sideways grin at that. “I’m your best friend?”

Y/N snickered and rolled her eyes. “Yeah, dummy. You’re like, the only person that likes me in this whole nation. Of course you’re my best friend.”

“Well…” he started. “Would a best friend like to break the rules even more tonight?”

Her eyes lit up in turn, completely betraying her excitement despite her attempt to look nonchalant about it. “That depends — what d’you have in mind?”

He grinned and leaned forward, dropping his voice to a whisper as he spoke in her ear. “So, after you finish work for the night, we…”

It was a struggle to get through all of her work after the plan that she and Zuko had formulated — sure, they broke the rules all the time. The basis of their entire friendship was breaking the rules, but this was going farther than they ever had before. Y/N wasn’t thinking about the consequences though, she was thinking about the journey — that was her first mistake.

She had rushed through all of her chores with Jaysa, hardly paid attention in her healing lessons, and made quick work of the rest of her day until she was finally able to meet up with Zuko at one of the various servant entrances that she had shown him.

“You’re finally here!” he exclaimed, his body buzzing with nervous energy. “I thought you were never gonna come.”

“Some of us actually have work to get done, mister crown prince,” she joked as she bumped his shoulder with hers. “But that doesn’t matter — let’s get going before someone catches us! I don’t want it to get too dark either.”

“It’s gonna be fine,” Zuko reassured. “My dad is in war meetings all day, no one is going to catch us. Now come on!”

Zuko pushed open the door, grabbed her hand, and began to pull her along. A laugh fell from her lips as they ran, unable to stop herself from casting a cautionary glance behind them as they got farther from the palace. Y/N tried to push her worries out of her mind — like she had told Zuko earlier, she trusted him.

That was her second mistake.

It was surprisingly easy to sneak past the guards around the wall and just as quick to get through Royal Caldera, and before Y/N knew it, they had arrived in the city.

It was nothing like she had ever seen before.

The village she had grown up in was miniscule compared to anything in the Fire Nation, and she was especially awestruck upon entering the city. As home to more middle class citizens than anything, it was a bustling marketplace filled with workers and nobles alike — if she hadn’t been preoccupied with the stars in her eyes, she would’ve been able to see the way Zuko was absolutely beaming at her.

“Come on!” he exclaimed, grabbing her hand once again as he began to walk — at a much more moderate pace than their run here — down the streets. “There’s so much here that I wanna show you. Have you ever been out here?”

She shook her head, allowing herself to gawk at her surroundings while they went down the street. “We aren’t really allowed to leave the palace since we’re technically still prisoners, just… ones that work. My mother always had to give her money to one of the other servants so that when they went out to buy their things, they could pick some stuff up for us as well. This is all totally new.”

Once again, a frown found its way onto Zuko’s face, but only for a split second before he pointed at a stall opposite to them. “Oh— there’s a fruit stand! Come on, you have to try this.”

Y/N let Zuko pull her over to the stand, looking at the array of fruits on display while Zuko conversed with the merchant. A few silver pieces later and they were walking away with a basket of produce — miraculously, the prince hadn’t been recognized, so she figured he wouldn’t need a disguise. Third mistake.

“Here,” he said, offering her a mango from the basket. “You haven’t lived until you’ve tried Fire Nation mango.”

She took the fruit from him and bit into it, her eyes immediately widening as she turned on Zuko. “Tui’s gills, this is delicious! You’re telling me that you people just have this on hand but we don’t get any of it?”

He shrugged and took a fig from the basket as Y/N wiped some juice off of her chin. “There’s a reason I’ve helped you break into the kitchens so many times. Now, where do you wanna go next?”

The pair spent the next couple of hours browsing the marketplace, enjoying their day on the Fire Lord’s coin. Zuko was more than happy to show Y/N parts of his culture after all she had taught him, and she was more than happy to experience it. They had been able to buy lanterns for the upcoming Festival of Szeto, purchase their own blends of tea leaves, and of course Zuko insisted on getting fire flakes and gummies.

(Y/N thought he was insane. Why in the world would the Fire Nation want to make food that hurt them on purpose? She was going to stick with her newfound love for mangoes.)

But Zuko hadn’t even brought her to the best part yet.

“Can I open my eyes now?” She asked, her anxious tone betraying her curiosity.

“Now you can.” Y/N was met with Zuko’s grin and as she focused on the stand in front of them, she had to make a conscious effort to not gape.

Zuko had brought her to a sewing stand with all the threads, fabrics, and silks that she could dream of in all kinds of colors. She immediately rushed forward, unable to stop herself from running her hands over and through each and every piece of material — she was in a seamstress’s heaven.

“I take that as a sign you like it?” Zuko asked happily.

“Oh, definitely,” she confirmed, still completely caught up in all the choices. “This is so much better than all the material we’re given to work with!”

“That’s why I brought you here. I thought you could get some stuff for yourself, and some stuff to help with the dress you’re making for your mom. I don’t really know how sewing works, but I thought that this was one way I could help.”

“That is so sweet of you!” she gushed. “Thank you so much — you should probably get around to some of the other stalls because I… I think I’m gonna be here for a while.”

Zuko laughed and fished out of a couple of golden pieces then set them in her hand. “That’s okay. I’ll meet you over by the steps; we can watch the sunset together.”

They nodded as parting gifts and each was enveloped in their tasks; Y/N beginning to ask the merchant questions about everything at their stand and Zuko off to entertain himself for a few more minutes.

Soon enough, Y/N had her own small bundle of silks and fabrics, her mind already going off in a million different ways of how she could incorporate it into the design. She found Zuko sitting on the steps and as she took her own seat next to him, he handed her another mango.

“Did you find everything you wanted?” She nodded and hummed gratefully as she accepted the fruit, taking a bite as her eyes fell on the skyline in front of them.

“I had a really great time today, Zuko. I really can’t thank you enough for taking me out here. I… I think I forgot what it was like to feel like this.”

“Like what?”

“...happy.” She paused for a second before allowing herself to meet his eyes. “All the time I spend with you in the palace… It’s one of the only times that I really do feel happy. And being out here today, getting to walk around where I wanted and buy things and just— I feel free, Zuko. And that means everything to me.”

She felt the heat rush to her cheeks and she turned away. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to go on like that—“

Zuko gently reached out for her hand, drawing her attention back to him and the soft smile on his face.

“Well… I care about you. You’re nice to me, and you take time out of your day to help me which you don’t have to do. This is just me trying to pay you back for all you’ve done to help me. We can do this more often — whenever my dad’s busy.”

Her own smile grew on her lips and she nodded as she laced her fingers with his. “I care about you too. And.. I’d like that.”

Y/N leaned her head on his shoulder and together, they watched the sunset over the city.

There was no place either of them would rather be.

Y/N and Zuko made their way back to the palace as quickly as they could after realizing how late it had gotten. Y/N was sure that she was going to get the talking-to of her life after what she had done, but she was almost giddy after what had just happened. She could deal with any of Kura’s consequences later — right now the only thought in her mind was the feeling of Zuko’s hand in hers.

The night had been nothing short of perfect. She had felt freer than ever before out there in the city with Zuko, and knowing that he reciprocated the feelings she had for him was enough to make her heart burst. She cared for him, and he cared for her.

Of course, there was that nagging question of how they would continue now that their friendship had morphed into something more, but once again — it was something she would deal with later. Her fourth and final mistake.

But as a guard turned the corner, Y/N realized she might not get the chance. She quickly let go of Zuko’s hand and tucked it under the bundle of fabric, hoping that the gesture of affection had been missed by the man.

If he had noticed, he showed no sign of it. He stopped in front of them, a gruff voice speaking from behind the mask with words that made her heart stop.

“Prince Zuko, the Fire Lord has requested an audience with you.”

haha OOPS

perm tag list: @dv0412 @siriuslyslyslytherin @maruchan77

ehfar: @chandies-sideblog @persica27

atla: @marianne1806

#zuko x reader #zuko x you #zuko x y/n #zuko fic #zuko #avatar #avatar the last airbender #avatar fic #avatar the last airbender fic #atla #atla fic #zuko avatar #sadie writes

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mistressemmedi · 3 years ago

Text

Måneskin: "Different from whom?"

Greetings from Miley Cyrus - phenomenal numbers.

The streams of Zitti e Buoni are growing by the second, and ahead of Muse, on the top of the English charts, twelfth in the Spotify Global Chart. We almost tripled followers after Rotterdam (from 1.4 to 3.3 million, ed). Contagious and universal madness: T-shirts and merchandise sold out in 10 minutes. Like records, tickets for a tour that adds dates and expands on maps. They are even looking for us in festivals where the Rolling Stones have played. - Thomas

After the whole cocaine scandal that was started against us from France, which was later denied by my drug test, in Spain there people have been making murals with my face saying "No drugs". Some tweets made us laugh: «Congratulations, Italy! I have never been so sure that four people have fucked each other ". Miley Cyrus started following us. "You are great". “You are more” . - Damiano

From rags to riches - what a story

It was only 2016, and we were playing in restaurants, on the streets, in via del Corso (famous street in Rome). Damiano without a microphone, Thomas's guitar with broken strings, Ethan drummed on a cajón. At the occupations of the high schools in Rome (Kennedy, Virgilio, Mamiani) we had our first gigs and half an hour of fame, between those who criticized us and those who said "these guys are so cool". One of the rare times in which they offered to pay us to play - 50 euros each - we offered that money to those after us, in exchange for the chance to play during their time slow, as we knew there would have been a bigger crowd. We already understood then how it worked. That visibility was worth more than the money. We still think so ». - Victoria

The intimacy of rock - Choice of a genre

Music allows is this miracle which allows one to talk about very personal and private topics, even difficult and delicate ones. They are and remain deeply yours, but at the same time they become a confession that reaches a wider audience, and in this passage which is like a delivery, they also find their place in you, their elaboration. They are overcome, they are accepted. One moment it feels aggressive, one moment later a (soft) ballad. It's very cathartic. - Damiano

Against panic - The stage as therapy

I have suffered a lot from anxiety and panic attacks, it is a problem that I have worked on thanks to a course of psychotherapy, to my friends and family. Playing has helped me not to let myself be paralyzed by my fears, not to be limited in my private and professional life. I have learned to accept, to live with this side of me. I don't hide it. I no longer feel ashamed. - Victoria

This belief that only crazy people go to the psychologist is widespread ignorance. Nobody is born learned. And it is often difficult to understand why we are here, let alone the derivation and direction of our desires. It is a long and legitimate journey towards one's clarity. - Damiano

Essere fuori di testa – Ma diversi da loro (Be out of your mind - But different from them)

Already feeling a strong passion for something that is not a 'regular' profession but an artistic language, it puts you on a level where you're an anomaly, and while you're neither superior nor inferior to others, it places you in the condition of what breaks the mold but you're also being at a loss, leaving it to you to be bold and to take risks, hoping that they will pay off and land you somewhere. "What good is it if you don't stand out on your own?". You want to give it an aesthetic to your artistic dream, but to others it boils down to " You dress differently! You must be gay! ”, I'm 22 now and it makes me laugh, but at 17 it had an effect on me too. - Damiano

The beauty of being unique - Of believing in that and defending it

After all, we are all different not because we want to be alternative but because really no one is the same. Justice is being judged on what you do and not what you are. Justice is equality, respect, beauty. - Ethan

Fluid sexuality - Pride is freedom

We appreciate heels on men, we kiss each other, we have an open, extended mind, and we are proud of it. The horizons become vast, beyond the oppression of conservative families. With information on the web, knowledge is enriched and with it the possibility that minorities will be fewer and fewer, because majorities will be fewer and fewer. This will lower the volume to insults and bullying. If social networks can reach a village of 50 souls to reveal to someone, who is afraid of the darkness, that someone has felt that same fear.. There is no longer the need to give it a name, to define that "something" to fear, to brand it with labels that only limit you. Definitions have always had this effect on me. Gender should not even be considered in a person's judgment. Let alone orientation ". - Victoria

Sexism - A culture to be dismantled

Emma (Italian singer) dropped the bomb:" When I went to Eurovision, they insulted me over a pair of shorts. Damiano - half naked and in heels - was never criticized ". The judgment against women is constant, ferocious, and demeaning (if I have a lot of sex I'm cool but Vic a whore, where I show myself strong I'm a leader she is domineering and pain in the ass, who is successful because only because of her looks [and not the hard work she puts in]). As a male I am privileged, the harassment I suffer is not comparable to that experienced by a woman, the comments on my aesthetics are focused only on my aesthetics and do not insinuate anything about my professionalism and my competence, while women are victims of this kind of thinking in a systemic way. But I did find myself in a situation, out of nowhere, with someone who, pulling close to her for a selfie, started licking my face ... "What do you want, did you ask me?" Consent exists, and it is a must ». - Damiano

To grow as a person - The only rule to follow

For me, to conform is the total opposite of educating oneself, and the asphyxiation of one's expression (of freedom). Fortunately, I did not suffer heavy bullying, to the point where I felt I needed to change to adapt to how others saw me. But the matrix of who I am and the aggression that marks me is the same. If I'm a kid who dances and loves dolls, then allow me the freedom to do so. I used to be a kid who wanted long hair and played with Barbies. My friends, as a teenager, looked my long hair and teased me: "You have to find yourself a girl with a short hair to make up for it". My grandparents took the dolls away from me and said: “Stop it, they're not for you” ». - Ethan

“I was six and I already could not tolerate the distinctions between masculine and feminine. I've always had strong ideas about how I wanted to be. I refused things typically defined as feminine as a child, and they made fun of me for skating, for playing soccer, for not wearing skirts, for giving myself the chance to be as I wanted to be. I suffered a little, as I was bullied, but I had courage to stay true to myself, and today thanks to that courage I know that I could have been much more hurt, or I would have risked leaving the most important decision to others: the one about being just me". - Victoria

Love - music and girlfriends

I've been married to music for the past 20 years. I cannot wait to celebrate our golden wedding anniversary. - Ethan

Everyone goes through their own experiences, sometimes it's good, sometimes it's bad, but it's never other people's business." - Thomas

When, for the first time, I developed feelings and attraction for a girl it was a bit disorienting because I had never had the courage to go beyond the limitations I had imposed on myself. For society, being heterosexual is the norm and therefore often one automatically pegs himself in that way, giving up the freedom to experience many different shades and facets of love. Once I got over the initial insecurity of having to question one's own certainties, I lived my sexuality in a very natural and free way, as it should be for everyone. - Victoria

I had paparazzi under my house morning and night. So, after four years of relationship, I finally revealed her name. I still have the paparazzi under my house morning and night, but at least I don't have to hide anything anymore. - Damiano

The value of the group - Protecting each other

But the real relationship, the real family, is between us. Our band. We believed in it from the first day, even before calling ourselves Måneskin (moonlight in Danish), even before Ethan drew a giant moon, on the poster for our first concert. We share everything, even the pain of the tragedy of Seid Visin, who committed suicide at 20 because he was a victim of racism. Being a group is what we should all do together: stay united and not retreat in the slightest in the face of abuses generated by a distorted vision of someone "being different|. - Thomas

Non ho l’età – like Gigliola (It references Gigliola Cinquetti who won both Sanremo and Eurovision with her song "Non ho l’età" which translates to Not old enough)

Before us, the only one to win Sanremo and Eurovision together was Gigliola Cinquetti (in 1964). Is there is something for which I feel I am not yet old enough for? No, honestly no. Maybe for kids. I'll be honest, I'm not enough to be a dad. - Damiano

Reached the sky - What fears still remain

We are more than in the dream, we have conquered the dream. To fly high this high, there is the risk is to fall and get hurt, but we will try not to end up like Icarus, who burns his wings with the sun. Everything is in our hands. And this - somewhat presumptuously - reassures us rather than frighten us ". - Damiano

(ORIGINAL INTERVIEW IN ITALIAN)

[Please note that I have changed some words or structure sentence, trying to make it so that the interview made more sense lol - I skipped the first two paragraphs, which was basically the interviewer gushing over how pretty the band is lmao (relatable).

Any mistakes in the translation are sorely mine, nothing was proofread, so apologies in advance]

#maneskin #ethan torchio #damiano david #victoria de angelis #thomas raggi #i'm off to drink some wine lol

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jangmi-latte · 4 years ago

Note

Hi Chii! This is for the TWST ANNIVERSARY, and scenario format is fine. Main focus line is Silver: “You want to study together? You work really hard.” Next character is Riddle: “Have you been to the library yet? You should definitely stop at least once sometime. There are a lot of books you’d fine useful there.” Oof, that was a lot, and hopefully I did this right, if not I can always resend it if you’d like! ~🍒cherry nonnie

╰──➢ “ You want to study together? You work really hard. ”

❥ cherry nonnie, is everything alright? you’ve been making me smile from your asks but i understood you on your first ask <3. may our waiters, silver & riddle rosehearts, treat you with this anniversary special dessert!

“Oh, hello there.”

He greeted you with a gentle smile; no it wasn’t Silver, it was his father. You-- a young-second year no older than seventeen -- bowed at the older mage in a sign of respect.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Vanrouge! I assume Silver already told you about my arrival?”

“Of course he did,” tittered the old fae as he let you in. “He surprisingly woke up earlier than he usually does.” Lilia led you towards the lounge of their shared home within the Valley of Thorns.

“Oh, one more thing--” he opened the door to the lounge, “--avoid the second floor for now. Malleus is still asleep. We wouldn’t want to disturb him. Though, I trust you and Silver to keep it down with whatever you two plan to do today.”

You nodded, going inside after thanking him. Your eyes scanned the room in wonder. The Valley of Thorns’ common interior design always held dark colors. The only exception is when one of the home’s residents is light-colored, y’know? Like, tousled silver hair scattered on the couch arm, maybe even a white turtleneck hugging his figure, his aurora-colored eyes closed for the world not to see, and his pinkish lips slightly open while soft even breaths blew out.

And Lilia said he woke up early, yes?

“Silver,” you whispered out, looking over the door while folding your lips and looking back at the young man on the couch. “Silver,” you called out louder, nudging the said man until he groaned and opened his eyes.

As his eyes came to view, you leaned forward, waving at him with a closed-lip smile. “Good morning-- or should I say afternoon?” you giggled. Silver blinked, and blinked, and blinked. His brain slowly processed what happened until he recognized your face. Jolting up into a sitting position he rubbed his eyes as he muttered, “I fell asleep...again?”

“Nothing I’m not used to. But I’m glad you actually waited for me.”

You sat on the windowsill across from him, and while you looked at the horses at the nearby stable, you heard him shuffling from where he sat. Still looking a tad bit drowsy, he watched as you swung your legs back and forth. “I wanted to ask for some help. You’re the only one who I can approach since, well, you’re the only one I’m closed with. I also believe you’re great at teaching.”

Confused, Silver stood up from the couch and stood beside you on the window, “You’re saying?”

“I want to study with you when it comes to horseback riding. I really need to ace my exam,” you said, gulping as you watched one of the horses run around freely. You were never confident around horses. Not that they scare you, it’s just because of their boisterous behavior. They can kick and probably trample over you if you don’t handle them properly.

“You want to study together?” Silver mumbled, glancing at you while you nervously glanced at the horses.

“If it’s no trouble, Silv. I just really need some help.” Your eyes met his. He could sense your determination despite the worry and nervousness in your system. He doesn’t doubt his horseback riding skills, yet he knew himself that he has more training to do. Maybe, both of you can learn something new together.

“Alright,” he agreed, “Let’s head to the stables.”

The height of the horses baffled you. Horses are no stranger to the Valley of Thorns yet you never actually got a chance to come near one considering you never even needed to. Each horse held their own distinctive color; white, brown, black, spotted, and there was even one with a long white mane and a thick tail. It was beautiful.

Silver caught sight of you staring at one of the attractive horses their stable owned. It was his horse. “Do you want to ride Cloud?” His hand caressed the horse’s snout -- the mammal exhaled as a response to the touch.

“Cloud?” you repeated, reaching out to gently touch her soft mane. “She’s so beautiful...”

“She’s a rare Gypsy Vanner. A gift from father when I first rode a horse. You could say she’s become a friend of mine,” Silver shared, and while you listened, a smile stretched on your lips. “Then you must really be fond of her,” you said.

“We grew up together, so to say.” Silver cleared his throat and opened the stable door, his hand tightly held the reigns as he let Cloud out of the stable. The way she lightly neighed, her little shakes of relief, and the way she nudged Silver made you giggle yet feel weary. What if she doesn’t like you? What if she ran too fast?

“Don’t be scared. She doesn’t hurt anyone,” Silver reassured as he adjusted the saddle. “Anyways, what is your exam about?” You followed him towards the equestrian facility (the place where horses are trained), walking beside him as you eyed Cloud.

“Just basic horseback riding training. Cantering, galloping, trotting…” you explained. Not that hard, yes? You don’t need to have Cloud jump over bars or make her do tricks. Just basic running techniques to pass your exam. Silver, is no doubt, surprised. It’s really simple. But what if you held another horse?

He hummed, letting Cloud stand steadily, he reached out for your hand and led it towards the horse. “It’s important that the horse knows you. They need to trust you in order to listen to you. I don’t want you to make the same mistake I did before.” Your hand felt Cloud’s soft fur around her neck. It exhaled in delight, signifying that she knows you and would most likely trust you.

“What did you do?”

Silver looked away embarrassed, he vaguely remembers the day like it was just yesterday. How could he forget the fact a horse nearly sent him flying just because he rode it immediately without even acknowledging the fact it’s a wild horse. Thanks to the Great Seven, Lilia and Malleus were there to calm the horse down and grab him before he got severely injured.

“It’s nothing… Come, I’ll help you up.”

Oh, to be aware of one’s touches must be quite a delight to both parties. You hooked your left foot around the stirrup while Silver held your hand as support while you lifted yourself up the horse’s saddle. Once you’re sat, he immediately kept Cloud steady as he looked up at you. “You good?”

You nodded, smiling down at the horse. “Good girl,” you cooed.

Silver looked at the path ahead of you, he wondered -- should he ride behind you or hold the reins until you got the hang of it? You’re still a beginner and he could either lead you properly by riding along or just standing by. When he was young, Lilia would ride behind him on the horse and he would just learn by watching him handle the reins.

Think, Silver, think.

“Are you getting up? I really don’t trust myself with the horse when you let me handle her alone…”

There’s the answer.

And now he’s behind you with his hands on yours as you both hold the reins. Cloud was trotting on the dirt as gently as Silver ordered her to do. Though with your obliviousness -- more of just being focused on his guide -- you failed to notice the fact that the young man behind you is enjoying your company.

You would squeal out loud if Cloud decided to go faster or tightly hold onto his hand and lean on his chest if you felt like falling off. It was hard not to find you adorable. And yet you’re still determined to learn. Back in NRC, he, Riddle, and Sebek would often yell at each other if one decides to flop. It’s not easy to handle horses, and yet you’re here handling Cloud well. Someday, you’ll ride another horse with confidence and just by yourself.

He tried to hop off the horse and let you handle Cloud on your own, maybe you aren’t the slickest or the fastest of learners, but you sure could control a horse now. Silver’s instincts were just as fast as he trained himself to be, almost running by your side when Cloud gets too excited with running.

He stayed so alert.

Hell, he didn’t even doze off in a while.

“You work hard,” he praised you after you were able to halt the horse’s running smoothly. Both of you sharing a grin before proceeding with the next course. Hours and hours of practice, and you’re learning.

Lilia even forgot what in the living fuck he was boiling as he stared outside at the both of you. “Now, Silver didn’t tell me he had a little date.”

╰──➢ “ Have you been to the library yet? You should definitely stop at least once sometime. There are a lot of books you’d fine useful there ”

“I thought you would know the way around the Rose Kingdom since you live here,” Cater teased as he looked out the window of the train he and Riddle sat in. The younger boy scoffed and crossed his arms.

“I barely go out of my home. I’m even surprised you know the place more than I do. I know the area but not how to go there.” Riddle sighed, looking down at the phone on his lap once he heard it ring from a message.

A message from you.

That’s right; the only reason Riddle is heading somewhere with Cater was that you offered to visit a historical museum with him. The purpose of this little trip was for you to learn something in terms of magical history. Where’s the fun in just sitting down and reading in your bedroom when you can experience the said history hands-on?

Cater was there to accompany Riddle throughout the journey and would most likely explore his own way while you two converse about whatever question and lesson you had in mind. You knew Riddle was one of the top students in his school. You also knew he wouldn’t refuse an opportunity for him to teach you something he knows.

When the train stopped, both students went off and down the museum just a few blocks away from the station. In front of the said museum was what Cater called: Riddle’s date. No, it was, in no way, a date. It was a simple study session. “Just in time, as always.” You stood up from the bench you were sitting on and met the two guys halfway. Cater had waved at you while Riddle looked at the exterior design of the museum.

It was a museum dedicated to the Queen of Hearts.

Riddle has been there a couple of times already. He has learned to love the place; though it's been a few years since he last visited.

"I'll leave you two here. There's a mall near this place and I wanna look around. See ya, Riddle, y/n!" Cater waved as he walked away. Riddle’s eyes moved back to you, watching as you looked at the museum, "Let's head in!"

You thought, again, thought, that the museum would be bustling with people left and right considering how popular it was in the Rose Kingdom. However, the moment you entered its walls, there were only around fifteen to twenty-five people inside — for the most part, you were in the main lobby.

"What are your concerns about?" Riddle began as he looked up at the huge statue of the Queen of Hearts situated in the middle of the lobby. Astonish were thee as you read the description of the queen.

'The Queen had only one way of settling all difficulties, great or small. 'Off with his head!' she said, without even looking around.'

"She was very powerful, indeed," he said whilst he looked at the decoy of the queen's crown situated in a case. "Those who looked at her, or even heard her name, are terrified."

"What magic does she hold?" you asked, circling the statue as Riddle followed behind.

"She holds great physical strength. As you can see—" Riddle pointed at the statue, "—she was big. Though some would label her as fat due to what Alice said, but in our school, she was mighty. I do wonder how she was able to grow so strong." He walked ahead of you and towards a painting. In that painting held the Queen of Hearts while she played croquet.

"Not only that. She aced in croquet and she ruled over her kingdom for how long. You could say she held authority no one could handle. Not even her own guards and husband."

As he spoke, your legs brought you over the hallways that held marvelous paintings of the queen. He was just by your side the whole time. "You did say you were in a dorm that's named after her, yes?" you asked, looking over at him.

Riddle nodded. "The statue you saw in the main hall was the same statue that's near our school's entrance. It's only proper for her to be standing there. She is one of the Great Seven after all."

"And you're the dorm leader in that dorm. You also have her rules applied to your very dorm. Tell me, Riddle. Do you admire her?" You both stood in front of another glass case. This time, holding the Queen of Hearts' sceptre. A heart with a gold staff, not even a single speck of withering is shown. It looked so expensive and very antique.

Riddle was quiet after you asked the question. Looking at him, you noticed how he stared at the queen's sceptre. Just above that sceptre was another painting of the queen, it was her on her throne with a villainous smirk on her face. It sent shivers down your spine.

"I do."

You faced Riddle once again. He had a serious expression on his face as he faced you. "She's the reason why I became the dorm leader that I am today. It was by my own choice to follow her rules and her doings. Not only for myself but for the sake of my dorm."

"Riddle..."

His voice held the authority of a dorm leader you never got to hear — considering as you go to different schools. You don't know how he is as a dorm leader, but judging by how he looked at the queen's painting, it's enough to convince you that he, Riddle Rosehearts…

Is the King of Heartslabyul.

The glass case that held the sceptre had a small hole — big enough to fit a hand or two — with a note above: 'Touch with precaution'. With a little bit of hesitation, you reached out and touched the sceptre. Warmth seeped through his hand as Riddle, too, reached out to touch the sceptre only for it to land on your hand. You both froze, staring at each other in surprise. It was he who pulled away first, cheeks painted as red as the hallway's walls.

"H-Have you been to the library yet? We should definitely stop at least once sometime." He coughed out, looking away from you. "There are a lot of books you’d find useful there. Didn't you say you wanted to know more about the queen's history based on your topic for your exam?"

And he walked ahead.

Your hand slowly moved to your chest after you let go of the sceptre. Looking down to your feet as you chuckled to yourself. Folding your lips as you covered your mouth and looked back at Riddle's walking figure.

The Queen— well, King — of Hearts may have a temperament. But he sure can be admirable at times when needed…

"Are you coming or not?"

#twisted wonderland #riddle rosehearts #silver twisted wonderland #twst silver #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #twisted wonderland silver x reader #diasomnia #diasomnia x reader #heartslabyul #heartslabyul x reader #twst imagines #night raven college #twisted wonderland scenarios

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lilith-of-rivia · 4 years ago

Text

The Bard’s Sister

Geralt X Reader

Part 2

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Masterlist

Summary: Geralt of Rivia and his long time travel companion Jaskier find themselves in Jaskiers home land. A place Geralt had not only never seen nor heard of. Jaskier is ready to reunite its his family after traveling and exploring the world for 20 years. The one person he missed the most was his baby sister (Y/N). Who he hadn't seen since she was 5. The journey is long, but the pay off is grander then they would ever be able to predict. This is still part of our introduction to the main characters and their personalities in this story. Next chapter will be more about (Y/N) and Geralt. I know I am trash at summaries.

I would like to state that I do plan on adding a pregnancy in the future to this story. (I know Geralt is steril. Just bare with me and the story line I’ve created) I just wanted to let eveyone know because I would hate for someone to get attached to the character and story only to have a plot line they do not like for themselves. I know not everyone like pregnancy plot lines but I’m such a sucker for dad!Geralt.

Trigger warnings: Cursing

Pairings: GeraltxReader JaskierxSister!reader

Word count: 6,369

(Changed from 3rd to 1st person)

The sun was high in the sky, it was nearly two in the afternoon. The garden below the large windows of the castle was shining brightly. The birds chirping, children playing in the river that ran through the center of the city. Life was good. The sun was shining a little brighter today. It was because Jaskier was finally home.

I hadn’t realized how much I missed him till he was back. After breakfast, we walked around the castle’s courtyard. He and Geralt introduced me to their horses. To my pleasant surprise, Roach took a particular liking to me, as did her owner. He was nothing like the rumors. There were many times that I traveled out of our borders into the western part of the continent, and every time people had nothing but cruel fowl things to say about the poor witcher. Sure he wasn't perfect, but no one was.

“Would you like to see my studies?” I asked as we walked down the long corridors that lead to three separate staircases. I glanced between the two men that were on either side of me.

“Your studies?” Jaskier asked looking down at me. I couldn’t help but smile.

“I told you in my letter that I’ve been working with a man over the last couple of years. He has trained me well. But I have many books, drawings notes all sorts of stuff that I’ve written about the world outside of our home.” We approached the base of the three staircases.

“I’ve never seen a castle so big in my life.” Geralt’s sultry voice flooded my ears once again. I couldn’t help but smile up at him. He was so polite. He never turned his nose at us. I knew he didn’t have a very positive history with others like us. Yet he sent no judgment towards myself or my parents. He just listened, followed, and learned. I had never met someone so open to the world yet so closed off that the same time, and we’ve barely even begun to get o know each other.

“Our mines are some of the richest you’d ever see in your life. From coal to diamonds. Nearly 85% of all ores get mined and sent out to the rest of the continent.” I started walking up the staircase on the far left, the stairs led up a long corridor that was open and bright, the mountains that shielded us from the rest of the world in perfect view. Both were still by my side. I stopped at the first picture that hung on the wall.

“That’s my great-great-grandfather, he only recently passed but he started all of this.” I looked towards Geralt. He was listing intently, his eyes on me as soon as I looked in his direction. I knew Jaskier knew our history so I wasn't too worried if he was paying attention or not.

“He came here from Termieria with his 6 younger brothers. The mines here had been closed for many many years. The town was completely deserted. There was a serious necrophage problem that no one wanted to deal with, so they just up and left. Leaving the plentiful mines full for someone else.”

“Necrophages?” Geralt questioned his eyebrow tiling in curiosity.

“The people who inhabited the lands before we did, had not known of the creatures. Didn’t properly bury the dead. My grandfather wrote in his journal that when they got here the streets were lined with bodies that had been drug out of their shallow graves, crypts had been broken into. His best guess is that a flue came before the people fled, killing many in a short period.” I started walking ahead of the two men, down the hall towards my room. I pushed the door open walking in placing my books on the night table as they followed in slowly behind me. Their eyes wandered over every inch. Jaskier started wandering through the room looking at every picture on the wall. Most of them were sketches, mostly of him. Or the people he sang about in his ballads. He grabbed one off the wall and laughed softly.

“Who is this supposed to be?” I walked over to him and laughed softly, my cheeks turning a soft shade of pink.

“That, that uh was my first sketch of Geralt.” The sound of his name got his attention, he was trying to be polite and not snoop. Although I didn't care if he wanted to look around. He walked away from the door over to Jaskier and me. He lingered behind me, very close behind me. I could feel his body heat on my back and his warm breath on my face as he peered over my shoulder at the parchment Jaskier was holding.

“How old were you when you did this?” Jaskier asked.

“Eighteen, maybe nineteen. It was after your first balled about your adventures with Geralt that started to spread like wildfire. I went to a tavern one night with a friend and someone was singing it. I was intrigued by the song and asked them who they sang about. I was told they didn't write the song, our very own Prince had. So I listened to them play it over and over. I asked around the and so see if people knew what the famed witcher looked like. I got conflicting answers from nearly everyone I asked.” Geralt reached his arm over me, his hand gently brushing my arm, sending chills down my spine. His hand grasped the paper as he looked at it closely.

“They got the hair color right. That was about all. Some people have some very wild depictions that I drew, but none in any seriousness.” The particular one they were examining was nothing like Geralt. They got everything wrong but his hair color. Many people said he was a scrawny young lad with the strength of thousands of men, making him easier to blend in with the crowds. Granted this was very early on in my brother and the Witcher’s adventures together so not many people had paid close attention to the witcher.

“You drew what people described?” Geralt asked.

“Yes, some people tried to pay me but I told them to give it to the needy. I traveled with Serena for a couple of weeks right after I turned nineteen, we didn't venture far past the mountains but it was enough.” I couldn't help but frown at the memories of the people in the towns scowling and sticking their noses in the air when I asked about the Witcher and my brother.

“Can I see the other ones?” Geralt’s question took me by surprise.

“I don’t know…”

“Oh come on, you're very talented (Y/N), let him see them,” Jaskier said and shoved my shoulder playfully. I smiled softly at him but shook my head.

“It is not that I’m self-conscious of my work, it’s the depictions of Geralt outside of our Kingdom, for the most part, were cruel and inaccurate beyond belief. I only drew them because I was wasting their time asking questions. I honestly don't know why I kept them.” I nervously rubbed the back of my neck, the idea of Geralt seeing those ugly, horrendous, depictions of himself made my stomach turn. He didn’t deserve the hate he received. I never understood why people despised Witchers the way they did. I only experienced it outside of our kingdom. For some reason, whether it be our pure lack of monsters or the abundance of sunshine, my people seemed happier. Less judgmental than the outside world. I was grateful to live in such a kind and caring place, but it does get rather dull after a while.

“I’d still like to see them.” Geralt said softly as he handed the parchment back to me. I sighed slightly uncomfortable with the idea, I took the parchment and hung it back up on the wall.

“Let’s make a deal,” I said turning to them both.

“Oh boy.” Jaskier teased.

“I’ll show you the drawings if you let me paint you now, so I have an accurate model. Not just words.” Geralt’s eyes looked over me, his arms crossing over his chest. A small smirk formed over his lips as he watched me intently.

“If you want to draw me so bad, just ask dove.” The nickname nearly threw me off my feet. My heartbeat quickened at a rapid pace and I couldn't even look him in the eye. Jaskier snickered and pulled out a chair by my desk. He was enjoying this way too much. I cleared my throat swelling thickly.

“T-that I uh..” I had never been one to not have words. According to my parents, I talked too much. Just like my brother. Yet here I was gobsmacked and wordless. I grumbled under my breath moving to the desk Jaskier was sat at and made him move. He got up and I sat down. I opened the top hatch of the desk, lifting out folders and files of archives. Some containing spells, some more drawing, history of the continent, and even monster facts that I knew I wouldn’t ever need. I placed the folders on the floor. Jaskier grabbed a few and moved to my bed plopping himself down kicking his feet up. My head snapped over to him as he put his dirty boots all over my fresh linens.

“Jaskier. If you don't get your boots off my bed, I will castrate you.” I warned turning back around rummaging some more. I heard him kick off his shoes. Geralt chuckled behind me.

“Fiery are we.” He teased but I ignored him. Finally, at the bottom of all my work, I found the folder. I held it up to him, not wanting to watch his face as he looked at the disgusting depictions of himself.

“Thank you, dove.” His lip was right next to my ear. I felt frozen.

I couldn't tell if it was genuinely just a flirt or if this was directed to me. Sure I had heard the rumors of the witcher and his many women of the night, including the sorceress Yennefer. But this seemed different. I snapped back to reality when he let out a low chuckle. I turned around and stood up, peering over his arm to see what one he was looking at. This one was particularly nasty. His eyes were slanted like snake eyes, large fangs protruded out of his mouth, and his hair was a crazy mess. His eyes were blood red, his nose crooked from supposedly being punched so many times. His face was littered with so many scars he had scale-like skin. I remembered the man who gave me that description.

“I met this man in a tavern in Solveiga, it’s the furthest I've ever been from home.” Jaskier stood up walking over and looking at the drawing Geralt was studying carefully. I didn't know why he was spending so much time on such a cruel piece.

“He said you came through a few winters prior, he and a bunch of the townsmen had gathered some coins so you'd get rid of a Striga. I knew was lying the moment he opened his mouth.” Geralt looked up from the payment, his eyes meeting mine.

“Why do you think he's lying?” I took the folder from him, and just as I expected the parchment below the picture he was looking at was full of my notes. Every time I traveled and spoke to people about it. My brother or his companions took incredibly detailed notes, I never wanted to forget anything. I took the parchment out before handing him the folder back. I began to read the notes:

“This man takes me for a fool. No more than some silly girl. While he sits here and tells the tale of the Wolf he seems to be forgetting the incredibly important fact about Strigas, they only hunt during a full moon. He keeps saying that the beast was hunting their people every single night, slashing children, men, women, animals, every night for months. He’s using it to fuel the people's hatred of the witcher. He’s attempting to claim that they sent for him as soon as they knew of her presence. Claiming the witcher waited nearly three months before coming to discard the beast.” I flipped the page over scanning the meticulous notes.

“He said the beast was killed on a new moon, he said he remembers it so vividly because of the lack of moonlight while he escorted the witcher to her crypt. I may not be a witcher, but I am not stupid. The man is trying to make matters worse by lying through his crooked yellow teeth. How dare he tarnish a name for the sake of his prosperity.” Geralt chuckled at the last part making me look up at him, he had an amused smile on his face, his eyes twinkled as he looked at me.

“Why are you laughing?” I tilted my head to the side slightly and he just shook his head, putting the folder of parchment into the desk. He knelt and began picking up the rest of the folders neatly placing them inside the desk where they came from.

“Because you got so mad that someone lied about me, yet you at the time were not even sure I was a real thing-“

“Person.” I quickly corrected him. His eyes glanced at me, he didn't move his head as he continued placing my papers where they belonged.

“What?” He asked.

“You called yourself a thing, you're not a thing Geralt. You're a real living breathing person.” His eyes found my own again. My heart raced as he studied my eyes. I had never seen anything so beautiful. His eyes were like hot pools of gold and honey. The complexity of the colors was mesmerizing.

“And I wasn't only mad that he was lying about you, I was mad that he was lying in general. About something anyone could disprove if they just picked up a book on monsters.” I noticed the parchment with the drawing he was just looking at was on my bed. I grabbed it to put it back on the desk. Geralt's strong hand gently grasped my wrist stopping me. His other hand gently grabbed the parchment from my hand.

“I’d like to keep this one if you don't mind.” I looked at him shocked.

“Why that one?? Of all the ones I've done you choose one of the most inaccurate and the crudest?” It made no sense to me. Why did he want that? Was it some fun game of his to think he was just some stupid monster?

“Because it shows your talent in a way the others don't. And besides, you got my nose perfectly. No one can do that.” I sighed heavily not liking the idea of him possessing such a cured drawing that was drawn purely on lies.

“Fine. Keep it.” He smiled vicariously. I’d let him keep every single one if he smiled like that all the time. The smile quickly vanished when Jaskier came back over with the first file he took. The one he had been studying was full of my notes on herbology and alchemy.

“You are incredibly smart (Y/N), I felt as though I was reading Yennefer’s notes.” A huge smile spread across my face at his compliment.

“Thank you, Jax.” Geralt was now walking around my room, hands tucked under his arms as he studied the drawing and notes hanging on the walls. Some drawings were of monsters, some of the random people I’d met on my short travels, some maps I’d drawn up so I’d remember where I wanted to go when I had the chance.

“Your talent is very wide-ranging, little dove. I have to say I’m very impressed with your knowledge.” That blasted nickname nearly kicked me off my feet again.

I looked out my window noticing the sun was getting lower in the sky.

“If you'd like to get new clothes I’d suggest we do it now, it’ll be dark soon and the shops close earlier in the week.” Gertrude turned to me, nodding his head.

“Please. These pants are so tight I’m afraid I may lose my legs.”

We walked down the street. The sun was close to setting in the sky. The cool air kissed my bare chest as we walked. It was a comfortable silence between the three of us. For the first time in my life, I felt comfortable in silence. I hated the quiet with most people, it left room for negative thoughts, negative energies. Most times when it was unbearably quiet when I was present was because I was shut down from talking by the people around me. I know they meant no harm, I knew I had a lot to handle at times. I was just lonely. Board. I only had a few true friends. Most of the people I grew up with were married and with children now. I spent a lot of time alone, I liked being alone. It gave me space to think about the world. The world outside my small one.

We approached the seamstress, walking through the wood door. A small bell rang in as we entered. Hildi walked out from the back, a bright smile on her face. She was a sweet older woman, not much older than my mum. She had been running this shop for as long as I could remember. She was the best seamstress in the country in my opinion.

“Princess (Y/N)!! What a lovely surprise!” She walked around the counter and hugged me softly. Her hands-on the sweater I was in. She made it for me many years back for a birthday gift. She always had the best gifts. Full of love. I did adore the woman. Her attention turned to the men next to me. Her eyes grew bigger, her hand gently coming up to her chest.

“My gods. The rumors were true. Jaskier!! How wonderful it is to see you again!!” Her hands wrapped around my brother who hugged her back. I couldn't tell if he remembered her or if he was just being nice. As she released him she looked at Geralt who was visibly tense, scared that she may try and hug him.

“You must be Geralt of Rivia!” He nodded.

“Rain!! Get out here!! And bring me my Witcher’s guide!!” Geralt's eyebrows furrowed at the mention of the book. He shot me a glance and I just smiled. A few moments later Hildi’s daughter Rain appeared. She was my age. We knew each other in school. She was never nice to me. Picked on me. Would make jokes about Jaskier not being around. I never told anyone, in fear people would think I was nothing but a stuck up princess. Her presence made me uneasy. I slowly took a small step back, inching closer to my brother. Rain’s eyes landed on Geralt. I could practically see the drool pooling in her mouth.

“Gods save me.” She moaned out. I had to fight off the urge to cringe at her outward burst.

“The tales are true then?” She looked directly at me.

“So maybe you weren’t lying all these years.” I scoffed and rolled my eyes.

Hildi was very blind to her daughter's cruelness. After her husband passed away it was just her and Rain. She’d do anything for her. I understood that. She was a devoted mother and wife. I knew how heartbroken she was. She walked to Rain and took the book from her hand and grabbed a quill that had been dipped in ink. She turned to Geralt, a very soft smile on her face.

“Would you sign this for me?” His eyes bulged out of his head.

“Y-you want me to sight your book?” I held back a giggle at his shock. He truly wasn't used to being appreciated.

“Yes, please. If it is not too much to ask. Your stories were what got me through my husband’s death. Had it not been for the ballads and tales of your great bravery I may have not made it through.” Geralt’s shoulders softened at her words. He nodded his head and walked over to the counter. She opened the book to the first page and he scribbled down his name before giving her a soft smile. She gently placed her hand on his arm and squeezed.

“You are truly a great hero here Geralt. If our country had a mascot, you'd be it.” Jaskier chucked lowly at her comment making me swat the back of his he’d. He hissed in pain and looked at me. I glared at him.

“Do not ruin this for him,” I whispered.

Hildi turned her attention back to me and smiled.

“What can I do for you today my dear?”

“Well as you can see, Jaskier has a sore taste in fashion and also doesn’t understand sizing. I was hoping you could fit them in some better, more comfortable garments. Maybe a set of nice clothes for my party as well?” She gleamed. She hurried around her counter, grabbing a piece of parchment and measuring tape. She came back around and wasted no time in messing the two men. I sat down at a table by the window and watched as she rummaged through somethings in the back of her store.

“So you're like a real witcher?” Rain’s voice caught my attention. She was leaning over the counter, her dress pulled down, the cleavage of her breasts on clear display as she dumbly curled her blond hair in her fingers.

“No. I'm a fake one.” Geralt said back unamused.

“But like are the rumors true?” She asked leaning even further over the counter. She was trying so desperately hard to get him to look down her dress. But he was simply uninterested. I felt my heartburn with envy. I hated that it did. He wasn't mine, he was nowhere near it. But the thought of him looking at her like that made my blood boil.

“Rumors about what?” He took a step back from the counter slowly making his way over to where Jaskier and I were.

“Ya know. About your huge cock.” Jaskier and I both choked on our spit. My hand flew over my mouth to keep my laugh in. It was a good thing her mother’s hearing wasn't all that great. Geralt looked visibly uncomfortable. He sat down in the chair next to me, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. Jaskier and I were both trying to get ourselves under control after her question. She was completely unfazed. She thought she was hot shit.

“Common witcher. Tear me apart. Show me the real monster you can be.” That sentence made my grip on the chair so tight I thought I could’ve broken the arm in half. I probably could have if I did not have any self-control. I’m much stronger than I look.

“Do not call him that.” I hissed. My teeth were clenched so hard I was sure I was breaking them. Her eyes flicked over to me. She looked me up and down trying to size me up.

“Call him what? A witcher. Honey are you dumb. That’s what he is.” In a second I was inches from her face. I could feel my blood pumping thru my veins.

“Do not ever call him a monster again.” I was a bit shocked at how mean I sounded. I had never been this angry with her before. I wanted to punch her stupid smile in more than anything.

“(Y/N)..” I heard Jaskier’s voice behind me. He was very close to me. My hands were balled in fists at my sides. My knuckles were turning white with how angry I was.

“I promise you, studying princess, he's been called worse.” She smiled cheekily at me and her hand came up and she attempted to pat my face like I was a dog. My reflexes were much faster than she realizes. I grabbed ahold of her wrist in an intron grip. I began to squeeze and bend her wrist back away from my face. Her face contorted in pain. She wasn't expecting me to be as strong as I was.

“I said-'' I squeezed harder, and she gasped slightly as she tried to pull her hand away. “Do not call him that.” I threw her hand away from me before turning around and walking by the window. I hadn't realized both Jaskier and Geralt were standing behind me.

Moments later Hildi came out completely oblivious to the scene that just took place. She had a cloth sack filled with clothes and placed them on the counter.

“Alright, dearly that’ll be 45 coins.” She said as she wrote down the total in her book. I stood quickly pulling the amount from my coin purse and putting it in her hand. I smiled at her as best I could, Jaskier grabbed the bag of clothes.

“If something doesn’t go right, bring them back.”

“Thank you Hildi, very much.” Geralt said a charming smile on his lip. He gently shook her hand kissing the top of it.

“Thank you, Geralt. It was a pleasure meeting you. Don’t be a stranger.” She patted his cheek as a mum does. I turned on my heels and walked out of the shop. The cold air hit my hot face. My blood pumped slow and hard through my veins as the anger disappeared from my body. Jaskier came out of the shop and threw his arm over my shoulders leaning into me.

“Thank you.” He whispered lowly, Great not being very far behind us as we walked to the castle.

“For?”

“Defending him. Many people don’t realize how much he’s heard throughout his lifetime. I’m glad I’m not the only one who wants to help.” I turned to him and smiled. I leaned into his side hugging him gently before, turning around walking backward as I looked at Geralt.

“If you would like, I’ll show you both to your rooms, and you can change. We can then have tea in the garden and I can draw you.” A soft smile graced his lips, his eyebrow rising softly.

“You seriously want to draw me?” I nodded my head and stopped walking, but he didn’t. He kept getting closer and closer till he was a few inches from me.

“Yes, Geralt I do. You have a special spot in my heart, not just because I believe you are a true knight. And many people are just too scared to admit that, but also for keeping my brother safe all these years. You deserve to feel appreciated.” His features softened as his eyes searched my face before settling on my own eyes. His hand gently came up and he moved a small piece of hair from my face.

“A deal is a deal, little dove.” I felt as though my soul was being sucked out through his hand. Every fiber in my body wanted to pull him closer to me, to show him love, and tenderness. Something I knew he never actually had.

“Good, follow me,” I said with a smile.

After I showed them to their rooms; my brother’s old room not far from my own, and Geralt’s which shared a wall with my room, I went down to the garden. My easel, charcoals, and paints were set up on the table as they came down from changing and freshening up. Geralt looked more beautiful in clothes he could breathe in. his attire was so simple yet he made it look like the finest silks and jewels. It was a soft cotton button-down, it was loos on him, his pants were tight, but in a way that allowed him to move and feel free. I could tell by the way he walked he felt much more comfortable and in his element.

“You look like you feel better,” I said with a smile. Even Jaskier changed. A white shirt. And some black pants. He looked as he always did when I was a kid. The obscene choices in fashion were only adopted after he left home.

“I do.” I plainly said, a small smile on his lips. He and Jaskier sat down and I poured them tea. They both snacked on a few fruit tarts while I began sketching the background of the garden. allowing them to eat and not have to sit still just yet.

“So...while I draw maybe you could both share a story?” I glanced behind my paper and looked at the two. Jaskier smiled and leaned back into his chair fixing his hair and popping open a few buttons for the portrait.

“What story do you want to hear?” Geralt asked. Leaning back, his shoulders relaxing, a small piece of hair fell from the bit that he had tied back. It looked deliciously messy. It made him look disheveled, nearly like he was right out of bed.

“Wait!” I yelled and grabbed his hand gently, pulling his hand back softly.

“I like it. Keep it.” his hand went back down to his leg to rest. His eyes watched me for a few minutes. I studied their faces beginning my base sketches.

“What story shall we tell her Geralt?” Jaskier asked as he closed his eyes and tilted his head back to the sky, the last of the light kissing his skin.

“We could tell her about the Djinn?” Geralt said back, glancing at Jaskier before looking back at me, a coy smile on his face.

“A Djinn?? I’ve only ever read myths about them. You encountered one?” My curiosity was blossoming, the urge to get more details about the creatures I had been taught about.

“Geralt here was going onto day gods knows what on no sleep. He was beyond grumpy.” Jaskier tilted his head back up and looked at me with a smirk.

“The git said my singing was like a pie with no filling!!” I couldn’t hold back my laugh. It was much louder than I wanted, not very ladylike at all.

“Oh… I may have to steal that one.” I said in between giggles, whipping my eyes.

“I was hoping to use a wish from the Djinn to help me sleep. But unfortunately, your brother got in the way.” As Geralt spoke I moved into his details on his face, my eyes traveling all over his beautiful face. From the way, his brows arched to the cute little dimple on his chin. His face was beautiful. Some scares were prominent enough that I could see them if I looked hard enough he had one on his cheek, it looked newer than all the others, the skin being a bit lighter than the rest of his skin.

“What did he do this time?”

“He decided that because I told him I no longer appreciated his singing that he would take the Djinn away from me till I took back what I said.”

“And let me guess, you didn’t take it back?” I glanced at him from behind my easel, he was watching me closely, his eyes slanted like he was studying a pray.

“No. No, he didn’t. And I almost died!” Jaskier shouted dramatically causing my eyes to drift from Geralt over to him.

“Don’t be dramatic Jaskier,” I mumbled, putting down the charcoal I had been using. Now turning my attention to the paints I had in front of me. I started mixing the colors Id need for Geralt’s skin tone.

“No, this time he’s right. He did almost die. Unfortunately for Jaskier, he refused to let go of the vase the Djinn was in. While we tugged on it, the lid came off. Maybe the Djinn knew I was a witcher and its curse wouldn’t work on me, or maybe it was just annoyed at Jaskier. Either way, it attacked him.” My eyes were focused on the painting, brows furrowed as he spoke. I waited a moment for him to continue but he didn’t.

“I’m listing Geralt, please continue,” I said my eyes moving to his, the colores pooling in my head as I prepared for what pigments id be using to paint them.

“I don’t want to interrupt.” I shook my head a soft smile on my face.

“I will,” Jaskier said as he sipped his tea, looking at me.

“The Djinn attacked my throat. Made it swell, I was coughing up blood.” My painting stopped as I looked at him. My stomach sank a little as he spoke. I knew Jaskier had been put in harm’s way before but hearing the first-hand accounts made my stomach ache.

“Geralt took me to an elven healer that wasn’t too far from where the river bed was. Unfortunately for me, he couldn’t help me. But he knew of a mage that could help.” My hand started to paint again, filling in the sketch with colors on Jaskier’s face as he spoke.

“We can skip over those details Jaskier.” Geralt huffed crossing his arms over his chest.

“Why? Don’t want my baby sister knowing that we had to sit threw an entier orgey just for you to speak to the mage?” Jaskier snickered looking away from me to his friend,

“Jaskier, shut up.” Geralt grumbled. His eyes avoided my own when I went to look at him.

“An orgey?” I had heard the word but hadn’t ever fully understood what it was.

“What’s that?” I questioned looking at my brother. His head fell back as he cackled.

“Oh dear sister how you’ve been so sheltered from the world.” My cheeks flushed red at his words.

“Jaskier don’t be rude,” I mumbled grabbing a fine liner brush from my pile. Adding some final detail into Jaskier’s blue eyes.

“It’s when a very large group of people get together in one room and have sex.” The blood rushed to my head at his words. I could feel my ears turning red. My brother was right. I had been sheltered about sex in my family. I didn’t have friends who I could talk to it about, and never really had anyone in my life I was willing to have sex with.

Unlike many women my age I never viewed my virginity like a sacred rose that no one could touch, I just wanted it to be lost to someone who deserved it. No someone I was forced to allow to deserve it.

“Oh look at how red she is.” Jaskier snickered standing up and poking my sides. I smacked his hands away glaring at him. He was now able to see the nearly completed painting. All I had left was my Geralt’s eyes and some details in his hair.

“Gods (Y/N), this is amazing.” He whispered his hand on my shoulder. I smiled softly, swallowing the spit that had gathered in my throat thickly.

“Thank you, please sit down and continue your story.” Jaskier did as I asked.

“The mage was Yennefer. She helped me. Saved my life. The mage and I may not get along, but I do owe her my life.” I smiled softly as he spoke of the mage I had heard so much about.

“I’ll be sure to thank her myself if I ever come across her,” I said with a smile. My attention turned back to Geralt who didn’t look please at the topic of our conversation. His eyes were on his leg that bounced slightly. He was anxious.

“Geralt love, I cannot see your eyes. That’s nearly all I have left.” At the sound of my voice, his head tilted up so he could look at me in the eye.

I smiled sweetly at him. I broke eye contact as I added in the different hues of orange and a bit of red. Some gold flecks showed themselves in his inner iris. The depth of the color was so enchanting. I could paint just his eyes forever. I finished with his hair after a few minutes of silence. Both men just enjoying the warm afternoon air. They both looked relaxed, peaceful, safe even.

“I’ve finished, boys,” I said whipping my hands on my apron. I stood up and turned the easel around to the two. They both sat up straight, eyes wandering all over the painting.

“You, my dear sister are beyond talented.” Jaskier mused looking at me, a bright smile on his face.

“We both are.” I smiled at him. Geralt was still examining the painting, his eyes flicking over every inch of himself. I couldn’t tell if he was pleased or not. It made me nervous.

“I know the hair isn’t perfect. I’m still trying to get the brush technique down-”

“It is perfect.” Geralt interrupted me, a smile on his face as he looked at me.

I smiled back at him, my heart beating a little quicker.

“Can I keep it?” Geralt asked.

“Seriously?” I asked him.

“Well, actually it’s probably best you keep it. I don’t have a home, so I wouldn’t want to ruin it…” I smiled softly, taking a step closer to him.

“I’ll keep it safe but if you ever have a place that you want to keep it, ill get it to you,” I said, softly stroking the stray strand of hair behind his ear. His face tilted up as he looked at me.

“I think I’m going to turn in for the night boys,” I said gathering my items in my hands.

“What about dinner?” Jaskier asked.

“I’ll grab something from the kitchen, I’m quite tired. I need a bath. I’ll see you both in the morning.” I said hugging Jaskier goodnight. I turned to Geralt, courage surging through my veins. I bent down and placed a soft kiss on his cheek.

“Goodnight Geralt.” His cheeks turned a very, very soft shade of pink, but only for a moment. Our eyes locked again.

“Good night, dove.”

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thelegendoftelezia · 2 years ago

Text

The Mark of a Soulmate

Legend of Zelda Skyward Sword fan-fiction

Updates? It’s a surprise

Chapter Archive

Description: Asuriel has been raised on the Surface her entire life. Completely oblivious to the world above the clouds, she prepares to fulfill her duty of being an attendant to Hylia. What will happen when her world is changed forever?

Chapter twenty:

Word count: 6362

So, some of you might have noticed that it has been a few weeks since the last update. I have been dealing with a lot of writer's block, and afterwards I was saving up what I was writing for a special occasion. Specifically today, June 16th. Why, you may ask. Because it's my birthday! And what better way to celebrate than by uploading the longest chapter I have yet written? I thought it was a good idea. Anyway, you probably want to read what happens next, so prepare yourselves, I had a lot planned for this chapter. I would really appreciate reading what you think of this since so much changes.

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The moment the battle began, Asuriel could sense the mounting tension between the two. It was as if this fight was about more than the location of the Gate of Time. Similar to Link's first fight with the demon lord, Ghirahim approached him with his arm outstretched, however this time there were daggers floating beside him.

Aiming for the demon's right side, Link made a quick strike against him. The sword was caught and for a moment, Link struggled to pry it away from Ghirahim. His second attempt was more calculated, but it was again blocked. This time, the demon lord did not easily give up the sword and snapped his fingers, causing the whirring daggers to shoot towards Link and effectively forcing the boy to release to sword to dodge them.

Although the situation was different, Link's ability to adapt aided him to avoid injury. Even as Ghirahim prepared to launch the sword at Link, the hero anticipated the direction and dodged it.

It was obvious to Asuriel that Link had grown since the beginning of his adventure. When she met him, he was shy, naive, and unsure of himself. He had needed her help to get to his first temple, and she had continued to aid him the entire time. In fact, he probably would have perished if she had not intervened at his first encounter with Ghirahim.

Link must have grown a lot in the Eldin Region. Asuriel had traveled with Impa most of the way. Once they were reunited, she had again taken the lead, but the hero still had to navigate his way through much of the area, as well as fight the Scaldera without help. He continued his journey through the Lanayru desert without help, and Asuriel could only imagine what kind of monster he had battled deep in the old mines.

In one, smooth motion, Link knocked aside the floating daggers and managed to land a blow. The demon lord appeared to be uninjured, yet he continued by summoning four daggers instead of two.

In contrast to Link, Asuriel's first encounters with Ghirahim had been... interesting to say the least. Their first three interactions almost ended with the death of a friend, and waking up in a camp of undead Bokoblins wasn't exactly much better. But, something had changed significantly in the demon's behavior towards her. At the Gate of Time, he had threatened her, but not long after, he took it upon himself to see that she recovered from her injuries in the Ancient Cistern. Then, there was the incident on the Sandship.

The fight was becoming more serious. Ghirahim now wielded two swords as he approached Link with long, confident strides.

On her birthday, Link has brought Asuriel to Skyloft for the first time. He introduced her to a few of the denizens and gave her a tour of the island. Ghirahim's gift, although smaller, was more meaningful. He had compiled the spells that she had learned into a journal, much like his own. He also gave her an earring as a reminder of the first time they really enjoyed each other's company. They had almost kissed that day.

Link was not fairing as well now that the demon fought against him with swords. The chilling sound of steel against steel rang through the room as Link struck against his opponent with all his might, yet to no avail.

The night of her birthday, Asuriel had walked to the Spring and found Ghirahim there. Was it really chance that brought both of them to the same place? But, he had demanded that she leave everything behind and allow him to resurrect Demise, something she could never do. When she fled the spring, she ran into Link. He comforted her, he told her that everything would be alright. She could hear his voice clearly in her head.

"We'll get out of this mess, together."

Together.

Ghirahim made a quick slash across Link's left shoulder, causing him to stumble back.

Link didn't ask her to leave everything behind.

Another hit to the Hero's side had him clutching the wound with his free hand, partially bent over.

Link didn't attack or hurt her friends.

The hero dodged the next swing, but the sudden motion threw him off balance.

Link didn't just care for her, he loved her.

The demon lord raised his sword to finally cut down the hero when an invisible force slammed into him, causing him to stumble. That one moment of hesitation was enough time for Link to raise his sword and slash it across Ghirahim's eye, knocking him back a few steps as one of his sword flew out of his hand. The demon covered his eye with his hand and Asuriel could feel his anger permeating through the room.

"... Enough of this foolishness... I am Ghirahim. Demon Lord! I doesn't matter how powerful your sword is... you are still nothing... Not just a human... A human child! And yet you prevail! You filthy Scamp! You have awakened a wrath that will burn for eons! I swear to you, whatever it takes, I will drag you into an eternity of torment!"

His demeanor changed almost immediately back to his flamboyant expression.

"And you, girl, I have given you every opportunity to willingly come to me in peace. I will grant you no such luxury the next time we meet."

The demon lord departed in his usual manner, leaving Link and Asuriel alone in the Fire Sanctuary.

"Link, are you alright? Those wounds look like they hurt, let me take care of them."

Now that the magical barriers were gone, the girl rushed to Link and moved to place a hand on his side to heal the cut when he caught her hand. Carefully holding her hand in his, he guided it to cup his cheek.

"I think I'll be okay for a little while longer."

He moved forward just enough so that their noses brushed against each other. Asuriel began to speak before Link cut her off.

"Are you sure, you might-"

"Hey."

He did his best to give her a pleading look.

"Please?"

In return, Asuriel sighed dramatically before softly whispering, "Alright."

The hero closed the distanced between them and Asuriel met his advances by reciprocating the kiss. She could feel his strong arms pull her closer to him, and there was no where else in the world that she would rather be at.

Fi was mentally shaking her head as they walked into the chamber that housed Din's Flame. Link had handed Asuriel's glove back to her and they were holding hands as they continued into the next room. The sword spirit hoped that he would see how much of a distraction he had allowed Asuriel to become. It was not Asuriel's fault that she liked Link, but Fi simply could not understand how she felt. The girl had been granted the capacity to love, a luxury not often bestowed to the servants of gods.

When they exited the sanctuary, it was late in the afternoon. Both Asuriel and Link agreed that they should return to Skyloft since the volcano was a very uncomfortable place to sleep and there was no reason to stay. To celebrate the final upgrade of the Master Sword, Link flew Asuriel to the Lumpy Pumpkin where they enjoyed a bowl of warm soup. Later, when it grew dark, the hero brought her to the top of the waterfall, where they laid down next to each other and looked up at the stars. Asuriel could feel herself drifting to sleep as Link put an arm around her and was also soon asleep. But, although he rested deeply, his dreams were troubled.

He was standing back in the Skyview Spring, facing the door. A bright light shone behind him, and when he turned around, he saw Zelda. She had her back to him and was looking down into the water in front of the seal.

"Link... Do you know what will happen if you do not let Asuriel go?"

"Let her go? I don't understand."

"I will tell you about her, and how Hylia chose her soulmate. When Hylia looked at a person, she was able to see farther than their appearance. She could learn things about their character; she could understand what that person was like. In choosing a partner for Asuriel, Hylia searched many souls until she found some that would suit Asuriel. There were two spirits, very different, yet both were good matches."

Even as Link walked up beside Zelda and peered over to see her face, she kept her eyes trained on the still water of the spring.

"In the end, Hylia left the final decision up to her."

Zelda was silent for a moment, as if trying to find the right words to say to her friend.

"Link... Asuriel's spirit chose Ghirahim. I don't understand how the threads of fate that connect the three of you could have been so easily tangled by circumstance, but it is imperative that things are set straight. That choice is a part of Asuriel, it became core piece of her being. Forsaking it would have disastrous consequences."

Link felt a tear slip down his cheek and fall into the spring, creating a ripple in the otherwise still water.

"Do you know what you have to do, Link?"

Asuriel woke before Link, just as the sun was peeking over the horizon. The early morning light reflecting on the snow-white clouds tinted them with vibrant shades of pink and orange. Shifting slightly, Asuriel turned to lay against Link and rested one hand of his chest. She very much enjoyed mornings, and she was glad to spend one in peace with the person that she loved.

The only thing that she missed was the sound of birds sweetly singing in the branches of the trees, but Link's steady, rhythmic breathing brought her the same comfort. Behind her, the flowing of the waterfall could be heard as the water cascaded from the small pool above to the lake below.

Asuriel's attention was brought back to Link when suddenly jerked and woke up.

"Is everything alright, Link?"

"Um, yeah. There's just something I have to talk to you about."

"What's the matter?"

They both sat up and Link rose, helping Asuriel up afterwards.

"I can't tell you here. Can we go to the Faron Woods?"

"Sure. Are you... okay? You look a pale, are you unwell?"

"No, can we just go, and then I promise I'll tell you."

"Very well."

Link flew faster than his usual leisurely pace, clearly wanting to get to the woods as soon as possible. They landed on the viewing platform in the middle of the woods.

"What's going on, Link. Whatever it is, I'm sure we can get through it, together."

"That's just the thing, we can't."

"What do you mean? Of course we can."

"No, this was a mistake. We shouldn't be together."

"I don't understand. Why are you saying this now?"

"I didn't realize it before. Your soulmate is Ghirahim. Not matter how much we want to be together, no matter how much I love you, it's not meant to be. When you were created, your spirit chose Ghirahim. It's only because of these circumstances that you like me."

"But-"

"No, Asuriel. I'm sorry, but there is no alternative!"

Link didn't mean to shout at her, but the words slipped out before he could stop them. The corners of the girl's eyes pricked with tears as she stepped back, going down a few stairs.

"Well, I guess I should, um... I should go."

Her voice faltered at the last syllable as she turned and ran into the Deep Woods. Her legs carried her to the Skyview Spring where she collapsed on her knees in front of the seal, sobbing uncontrollably. The tears she shed blended with the waters of the spring as the morning slowly faded into afternoon, followed by evening, then nightfall. How could she have been so foolish to believe that she could ignore her fate. She had tried to take a different path, but that only ended in misery. An overwhelming feeling of loneliness swept over her. Link no longer could keep her company and she hadn't any idea where Ghirahim was. He was probably angry, and he should be; Asuriel realized that she had been absolutely terrible to him. He gave her beautiful presents, he provided her with meals, and he went out of his way to entertain her. Had she thanked him, even once? Asuriel was ashamed of the answer.

If only there was some way to rewind and meet the demon lord again.

Eventually, Asuriel got to her feet, knowing that she could not stay at the spring and cry forever. After all , she wasn't completely alone. She determined to travel to the Halls of Faron and stay with the dragon until she could figure out what to do about Ghirahim. Maybe there was a chance she could fix this; she could at least try.

As usual, Faron's subjects welcomed Asuriel warmly and some came up to speak with her as she made her way to see the dragon. The parella were overjoyed to hear that she might be staying for an extended period of time and were already preparing her room by the time she reached her destination.

"Greetings, Asuriel. What brings you to my halls this night?"

"I... need your help. I'm afraid that I have made a grave mistake and I seek guidance, and a place to stay if you will have me."

"Dear child, of course you may stay. Tell me what has you so worried."

"Well," Asuriel removed her glove and held up her hand for the dragon to see, "you might want to sit down for this one."

When Asuriel finished telling Faron everything that had happened between her, Link, and Ghirahim, the dragon assured her that she would not be forsaken for her mark or her actions.

"It may have come as a shock to me considering all I heard about you and Link, but I do not think any less of you. And you know that Link did the right thing, even if it caused much grief for both of you. Considering these circumstances, I do not know if you will be able to find love in your heart for Ghirahim."

"What?"

"However, that doesn't mean that we can't fix that. The two of you met under vastly different circumstances than was anticipated by Hylia. As much as dislike that demon, I know that forsaking your bond with him will eventually end in your destruction, due to the nature of the bond. I am willing to help you two, but only because I care about you."

"Then what can be done?"

"In order to help restore your bond, I will temporarily erase your memories of the past events since Hylia descended from the sky. I will not remove them, but I will conceal them deep within your mind until you are ready to remember them. This will allow you to meet Ghirahim again and establish the relationship you were supposed to."

"Are you sure I will be able to remember everything when you decide I'm ready?"

"Yes, you have nothing to fear."

"Then I agree to this. I trust you, Faron, and I thank you for your aid."

"I can't believe I'm going to help you get together with that obnoxious demon, but I will not go against the will of Hylia. Are you ready to get started?"

"Yes, I believe I am."

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It had been three days since Asuriel began her stay with Faron. She helped the dragon much like how she used to work with Impa. The girl stayed in her usual room close to the southern entrance, waking just before dawn to begin her day of work. In the mornings, Asuriel would train in the art of magic with Faron. Together, they worked in strengthening her shield and quickening her reflexes. In the afternoon, the girl would help with smaller tasks such as gathering some of the native flora for food or even collecting plants from the forest for food or medicine.

However, that day Asuriel had a different job. Due to the increasing numbers of monsters that had been mysteriously gathering in the forest, Faron concluded that it would be best to flood the woods to get rid of the infestation. It was Asuriel's job to warn the kikwi's and see them safely into the Great Tree with provisions for a few days before the flood that would occur that afternoon.

She was very glad to spend time with her childhood friends, Oolo, Loopsa, Machi, Erla. It had been a while since she had an actual conversation with them, and it brought her peace to see them again.

"So, do you have any idea who it is?" Oolo, gestured to the black diamond pattern on the back of Asuriel's hand.

"No, unfortunately not. Faron says that I knew him, but something happened and she had to erase that part of my memory."

"Whoa, it must have been pretty terrible. But don't worry, I'm sure that you'll find him again."

"Indeed."

She set down the basket of berries she had been carrying up the tree.

"This should be the last of the food. If you find there is a shortage, I will be able to go and enough to last you through this flood."

The girl and the kikwi looked out on the woods.

"Remember when we used to play her when we were younger, Oolo?"

"How could I forget?"

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"Found you!"

A five year old Asuriel smiled brightly and pointed at the baby kikwi that was disguised as a blade of grass. Looking around at the exclamation, she got up and waddled over to Asuriel.

"Kwee, you found me again. You are good at this game."

"Thank you, Oolo. If you count to thirty, I'll go hide now."

With that, she scampered off to find a place to hide, tripping a little over the long skirt of her dress as she went. Going from the entrance of the woods by the temple to the patch of grass in front of the Viewing Platform was not a short run for a child, but Asuriel managed to make it there just as the kikwi got to thirty. The girl just made it onto one of the lower platforms on the great tree before Oolo came into the clearing.

Asuriel laid flat on her stomach and watched over the edge as the kikwi poked around the forest floor for signs of her playmate. Of course, she found none. The young girl giggled quietly to herself at her success as Oolo left to look in another part of the forest. Asuriel waited a few minutes, but with nothing to do, she quickly became bored and got up to follow the kikwi. When she turned around, she discovered that she was not alone. Behind her, arms crossed and eyes stern, Impa towered above her.

"There you are. It's time for your lessons today, she should have been back at the temple by now."

"I'm sorry, Impa. I didn't mean to cause any trouble."

The Sheika's expression softened and she knelt down to the girl's level.

"Are you ready to go now?"

"Okay."

Impa straightened and took Asuriel's hand in her own.

"Impa... next time, could you play hide and seek with us?"

"Of course, Asuriel."

The five-year-old smiled up at her and walked with her back to the temple after explaining to Oolo that she was late for her lessons. When Asuriel's younger guardian pushed open the doors to the temple, she was greeted by the smiling face of her mentor and teacher.

"Good afternoon, Lothsiriel. Did you have fun playing with Oolo?"

"Yes, I did. I won four games of hide and seek!"

The girl held up four fingers to emphasize her number of wins.

"Tomorrow, Oolo is going to ask Machi to play, and Impa already agreed."

The old woman laughed softly.

"Oh, did she? Well, she'll have a hard enough time finding you."

"Indeed. I'll leave her to you now."

The younger Impa left, and Asuriel walked over to stand next to her older counterpart.

"Today, I am going to teach you a new bit of magic. Remember how we have been working on faire lights. Now that you have managed to keep your lit for extended periods of time, we will work on moving them around."

Impa created a light and Asuriel followed suite. Asuriel's appeared silver while Impa's shone a bright blue.

"Now focus on your light and imagine that it is in your hands. Very gently, push it."

Asuriel closed her eyes to concentrate and imagined her light in her hands. The image was shaky, but she could just make it. If only she could envision pushing it. Using mental commands to create magical outcomes was difficult, and before she could gather her thoughts into a coherent idea, her light dimmed and faded away.

"Don't worry, little one. This is a hard thing to learn. Try again."

Asuriel worked on moving her faire lights or the next hour. Progress seemed to come slowly, but she was still developing skills at an incredible rate. When Impa returned with some wild berries for Asuriel, the young girl proudly showed off her new skill.

After they had eaten, Impa led Asuriel to her room and let her change before tucking her into bed.

"Impa, can you tell me a story about the chosen hero of Hylia?"

"Of course, Lothsiriel.

This is but one of the legends of which the people speak...

Long ago, there existed a kingdom where a golden power lay hidden. It was a prosperous land blessed with green forests, tall mountains, and peace.

But one day, a man of great evil found the golden power and took it for himself. With its strength at his command, he spread darkness across the kingdom. But then, when all hope had died, and the hour of doom seemed at hand...

...a young boy clothed in green appeared as if from nowhere. Wielding the blade of evil's bane, he sealed the dark one away and gave the land light.

This boy, who traveled through time to save the land, was known as the Hero of Time. The boy's tale was passed down through generations until it became legend... But then, a day came when a fell wind began to blow across the kingdom. The great evil that all thought had been forever sealed away by the hero once again crept forth from the depths of the earth, eager to resume its dark designs.

The people believed that the Hero of Time would again come to save them... But the hero did not appear. Faced by an onslaught of evil, the people could do nothing but appeal to the gods. In their last hour, as doom drew nigh, they left their future in the hands of fate.

What became of that kingdom? None remain who know.

The memory of the kingdom vanished, but its legend survived on the wind's breath. On a certain island, it became customary to garb boys in green when they came of age. Clothed in the green of fields, they aspired to find heroic blades and cast down evil. The elders wished only for the youths to know courage like the hero of legend."

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Asuriel returned to Faron at noon to finish preparations for their stay in the Great Tree. The halls would be sealed off so they would not flood and the parella would not have to worry about things drifting into their homes, but the dragon did not want to leave the woods unsupervised in the more dangerous conditions. She and Asuriel would be staying high in the Great Tree until the woods were cleansed and everyone could return to their usual places. All the girl had to do was collect a few small items from her room that she would need before they continued. When she returned, Faron flew both of them to their places in the tree and proceeded to cause water to flow freely from the base of the tree, rapidly submerging the woods.

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"A report, Master. An unusual phenomenon is taking place in the Faron woods, making impossible to directly descend into them at the moment."

Link landed in the Seal Grounds and sighed with frustration as he felt the familiar shaking of the ground as the Imprisoned again began to break free. If he had a rupee for every time it inconveniently interrupted his mission, he would have three rupees. The past three days had been hard enough for him as it was. Watching Asuriel run into the woods as he had to stand and watch nearly broke him. Even though Zelda assured him he did the right thing, he wished they could have parted in a better manner. The pumpkin soup for Levias took a long time to prepare due to the large amount that was needed, but the information about the Song of the Hero was well worth it.

But, visiting Faron would have to wait until he could seal away the Imprisoned again. When the beast reared its head again, Link was ready to take it down! And, smash its toes. Groose even came up with quite a fitting name for it: Big Ugly.

The Groosenator turned out to be useful for both launching bombs at the Imprisoned and catapulting Link into the Faron woods. He landed with a loud splash in the water.

Wait, water?

Since when were the woods flooded. Link swam towards the Great Tree and decided to see if he could find out what happened. As he drew closer, he could faintly hear the sound of someone singing. Not just anyone, but Asuriel. Her voice carried through the hollows of the Great Tree, clearer than the crystal water that covered the expanse of the forest.

After speaking with the Kikwi Elder, Link swam to the base of the tree and followed the passages up until he came into a large room at its heart. The water there was deep, but a walkway ran through it, connecting two exits to the outside. In the very middle stood Asuriel. She was clothed in a long, blue gossamer dress. Her hair was braided around her head like a crown and held in place by a gold hairpin with a singular sapphire encrusted in it, bearing the symbol of the triforce of courage. Most importantly, she no longer wore the single white glove. As he approached, she stopped singing and looking over at him curiously. Before he could advance any further, there was a large splash as Faron leapt over the walkway and then emerged from the water again.

"Who dares to dip even a toe in my waters without my leave? Oh, I remember you. You're the young human who helped me recover from my injuries some time ago. Ah... Link, was it? Let's have a look at you... Yes, you seen a good deal stronger than the last time we met. And look at the sword. It's clear you have the spirit of the hero of the goddess. Let me guess... You swam all the way up here to try to get me to teach you the part of the Song of the Hero that the goddess entrusted to me? That's all well and good, but I can't go around giving away something that precious to every hero who flounder into my waters. No, I think that a final test is in order to ensure that you are in fact the one meant to hear this melody of mine."

Asuriel had completed so much work, and nothing needed to be done. Faron would have to create a task since there was no other way that she could possibly tell if he was the hero. The glowing triforce on the back of his hand could be a tattoo for all she knew. But first, more monologuing.

"This may be news to you, but some very irksome monsters have been overrunning my woods of late. Well, I decided that I had enough! The easiest way to deal with the awful things was to flood the whole woods. As it happens, almost every inch of greenery in the area is submerged. So it's here, in this flooded land, that I will test you. If you're up to completing the task I ask of you, I see no reason why I shouldn't reward you with the melody you seek."

The dragon nodded to Asuriel, who began to form a sparkling sphere of light that Faron sent up through the tree and split into eighteen parts, scattering them around the flooded woods. Link ran outside to the the arts fall lightly into the water around the tree.

"As you just saw, I have split the melody you seek among my many Tadtones and I have hidden them around the forest. If you haven't already guessed, Link, here's your task: take this score and collect all my little musical friends out there. You can use that score to figure out how many Tadtones are in each group. Find them, collect them, and bring them back to me. If you can do that, well, then I'll just have to see you as someone worthy of learning the Song of the Hero."

Link glanced back at Asuriel for a moment before beginning his search. It had only been three days since they last saw each other, yet she was so composed. The sight of her had almost made him cry, yet she was unfazed. It was as if she had forgotten everything that happened between them.

"Who was that, Faron?"

"That young boy is Link, you knew him before."

"Really? He probably thinks I don't care about him now. Could you explain why I don't remember him, Faron?"

"Of course, Lothsiriel. I'll introduce you when he returns."

"Thank you."

"In the meantime, I would like you to continue practicing your singing."

It was late in the evening when Link returned with all the Tadtones. He was soaked to the bone and had a nasty bruise on his forehead. Faron sang the melody as she promised and offered the boy a place to stay in the tree to rest before he left for the Lanayru Desert.

"Excuse me, Faron?"

"What is it, Link?"

"Why is Asuriel so... calm? Last time I saw her, she ran away crying."

"I know. She came to my halls in search of council and we agreed that she would stay with me for a time. However, in order to help restore her bond with Ghirahim, I needed to temporarily erase all of her memories pertaining to both you and him."

"So she doesn't recognize me at all?"

"No. I will restore those memories when she is able to handle them, but not now. And especially not when she will be in Lanayru."

"What do you mean? Why are you sending her there?"

"Because that's where you will be. Asuriel told me that, at the Gate of Time, Hylia ordered her to stay with you and help you. She cannot do that by remaining with me here in the forest."

"I remember that, but will she be alright?"

"She will be fine, but there is something that you need to be mindful of. You must ensure that there is not a repeat of what happened last time. You cannot let Asuriel fall for you a second time. Try to create opportunities for them to meet and see each other. I am aware that neither of us like him in the slightest, but we both care for Asuriel. The best way we can take care of her is by allowing this to happen."

"I understand..."

"Link, I know this will be difficult for you, but I trust that you will continue to do the right thing."

The hero remained in the Great Tree for two more days before announcing that he would be leaving. When he went to go tell Asuriel, he found her easily. She was sitting on the edge of one of the platforms, letting her legs dangle over the edge while humming an ancient tune. A couple of Faron's Tadtones were floating around her, happily bobbing and spinning to the melody in each of their turns. He came up behind her and coughed quietly to alert her of his presence.

"I will be leaving for Lanayru in an hour."

"Alright, where should I meet you to leave?"

"By the bird statue."

"Very well, then."

The girl rose and turned to leave.

"Asuriel... what were you doing?"

"Oh," she turned back around and motioned to the Tadtones that were following her, "I am teaching this group of Tadtones a new song. Why?"

"I was just curious. I'll see you in a hour."

With that, Link turned and walked back into the tree. He did not see the girl until he came out to where the bird statue was and found her waiting for him. She had changed into a shin length, dark blue dress that matched her hairpin, completed with a dark brown braided belt. His eyes flickered down to her ungloved hand before looking away. Every time her saw that mark on her hand, he felt like he was being stabbed. But, he knew what he was doing was for the best.

When they landed in the Lanayru Harbor, Link led Asuriel to the cave system where she and Ghirahim had first played their light games. After a few minutes of speaking to a Goron and looking around, he blew up a section of rock that was blocking the passage and proceeded through there. The skirt of Asuriel's dress blew to the side as they stepped into the open expanse of the Lanayru Gorge. The girl sat in the shade of a tall pile of rocks as Link searched the area for a key to a locked door that lay to their right.

He was about to tell Asuriel to follow him as he opened the door, but then he remembered what Faron had said about allowing for opportunities, so he asked her to wait there until he returned. He only hoped that the demon would be able to hold back his 'burning wrath' long enough to understand what had happened.

Asuriel sat with her back to the rocks as she watched the afternoon sun inch across the sky. She was thinking about using a little energy to create some Tadtones of her own when something caught her eye. A glimmer of red shone at the entrance to the caves. Asuriel got up and took a few steps towards it, but the light appeared to be no closer than before. She again moved forward, and this time, she could see the light move back. Suddenly, it disappeared, then reappeared further in the cave. Asuriel followed it until she was in a secluded section and the crimson light did not make a reappearance. There was a chiming sound that came from behind the girl that was quickly followed by a voice.

"Fancy meeting you here."

"Hello?"

Asuriel turned around to find a very strange person leaning against the wall, arms crossed.

"Can I help you?"

"Funny that you ask me that now."

"I'm sorry, do I know you?"

The figure seemed stunned, caught between an expression of complete bewilderment and an attempt to make a response. He laughed coldly and stood up straight.

"Come now, you can stop playing with me. Don't you remember what I told you?"

"I'm afraid that I don't. Actually, I can't recall anything that happened for the past few weeks. Faron told me that she had to erase part of my memory, did I know you before?"

If Ghirahim was at all confused, he hid it well.

"Since you don't remember me, allow my to introduce myself. I am Lord Ghirahim."

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Lord Ghirahim. Would it bother you if I introduced myself even if you already know my name?"

"Not at all."

"Well then, Lord Ghirahim, I am Asuriel."

"I am glad to make your acquaintance, Lady Asuriel"

Bowing a gesturing dramatically, he kissed her hand and smiled up at her before straightening.

"There is no need to call me 'lady'. Asuriel will do just fine."

"Then I insist that you call me Ghirahim."

"Fair enough."

"So, Ghirahim, what brings you to Lanayru?"

"Important business. And, may I ask what beautiful maiden, such as yourself, is doing here all alone?"

"I did not come here alone, my companion is simply exploring another section of the desert."

"Really, and what is his purpose in coming here?"

"Well, he's-"

She was cut off by the sound of Link calling her name.

"Asuriel!"

"Here, Link!"

The sound of heavy footsteps echoed through the cave for a moment until the young hero came into view.

"Greetings, Link."

Ghirahim smiled placidly as Link stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of them. The demon lord did not waste time in making moves. Somewhere in their conversation, Asuriel and Ghirahim had drawn closer together and were holding hands, which surprised them both as well as Link.

"Ghirahim."

Link acknowledged his presence, but it was all he could do to not grab Asuriel by the arm and drag her back to Skyloft.

"If you're ready, Asuriel, we will be continuing on, now."

"Of course, Link. Ghirahim, it was fun meeting you for a second time. I hope I'll be able to see you again soon."

"Of course, Asuriel."

Link took her free hand and began pulling her towards the exit. As Asuriel looked back at Ghirahim one last time, he blew a kiss towards her, which she pretended to catch and smiled as she held to her chest.

When she wasn't looking, Link turned his head and scowled and the demon lord, who smirked at him in return and playfully waved his hand in goodbye.

This was going to be fun.

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