#but i remember this day SO CLEARLY. i remember where i was who i was talking to who told me etc etc

[piastrixpole]

spinning into love - oscar piastri

pairing: oscar piastri x reader

genre: smau, written

faceclaim: buseksc

spinningaroundrecords just posted!

our new stock is here just in time for the holidays ft. our employee's recommendation wall curated by yn

liked by user3, user45, user27 and 3,419 others

user1: damnn yn's got taste

user2: do you guys have the chappel roan record in?

->spinningaroundrecords: we do!! in coke bottle clear and the coral anniversary addition

Yn had always wanted to work somewhere in the music industry. She lived, breathed and sleeped the euphoria of discovering a new favourite artist or record. From the moment she could remember, the thrill of discovering a new song, a new band, or a hidden gem in the deep corners of an album was enough to make her feel alive. It wasn’t just the act of listening; it was the feeling of music that consumed her. The electric pulse of a bassline, the bittersweet strum of a guitar, the raw, vulnerable emotion in a singer's voice—it all gave her a sense of connection to the world that she couldn’t find anywhere else. Since she wasn't the most musically inclined herself it she was extra passionate as a listener to compensate for it.

So, instead of focusing on creating music, she threw herself into the art of curating it. She spent hours browsing record shops, digging through stacks of vinyl, and chasing after obscure releases from up-and-coming artists. She was a listener, a connoisseur, someone who appreciated the artistry and emotion that went into every note.

It wasn’t long before Yn’s obsession became more than a hobby; it became her life. After years of working in different parts of the music industry—interning, managing small acts, or just helping set up gigs—she finally landed her dream job at Spinning Around Records. The record store wasn’t just a place to work for her—it was a sanctuary, a place where she could live and breathe music every day. And now, she was a permanent fixture there. She helped curate the store’s staff picks, hosted events, and even started her own little side hustle recommending records to people who had no idea where to start.

Today, Yn was standing by the store’s employee recs wall, carefully adjusting the placement of a few albums. It was a busy December afternoon, just days before Christmas. The store was filled with people rushing in for last-minute presents, some browsing, some frantically trying to find the perfect gift for that one person who seemed impossible to shop for. Yn loved the holiday chaos. There was something magical about the way music could pull people in, especially when the world was a little colder and people needed a soundtrack to their lives.

As she was straightening out the stack of vinyl, the door chimed, and Yn looked up, expecting to see the usual rush of people coming in from the cold. Instead, her gaze landed on a man—tall, with messy brown hair, wearing a jacket and jeans that somehow looked effortlessly stylish if it weren't for the drawstring style to the jeans. He was scanning the shelves, clearly out of his depth, a look of slight panic in his eyes as he searched for something among the rows of records.

Yn smirked to herself, watching him for a second. She knew that look. He was the kind of person who was very last-minute with his Christmas shopping.

“Can I help you find something?” she called over, her voice friendly and easygoing.

The man’s eyes shot over to her, and for a second, he looked a little startled, as though he hadn’t expected someone to speak up. He quickly recovered, flashing a smile that was just shy of sheepish.

“I hope so,” he said with a small laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m looking for a gift... for a friend. Not really sure where to start.”

Yn raised an eyebrow, noticing the slight hesitation in his voice. “Are they into music?”

He chuckled, looking almost embarrassed. “Well, yeah, but I don’t know what kind of music they’re into. He's picky...and plays a lot of piano ”

Ah, so he was one of those shoppers, Yn thought. The kind who had no idea what their friend liked, but was determined to get it right. She could work with that.

“Well, I’ve got a few ideas,” she said, pushing away from the shelf and walking toward him. “Do you have any idea what kind of vibe you’re going for? Do they listen to anything specific, or are you just looking for something cool?”

“Uh... cool is good,” the man replied, clearly relieved that she wasn’t judging him for his lack of knowledge. “Maybe something a little indie, or a bit retro? I’m just trying to find something that’ll stand out, you know?”

Yn's smile widened. “I’ve got exactly what you need.”

She led him over to a nearby display of albums, her fingers dancing over the spines of the records as she pulled a few out. “This one’s a personal favourite of mine," she hands him a copy of Dogrel by Fontaines DC "if you want something indie that might surprise him, this would be a good choice or if you want more of a classic album then I'm always going to recommend Grace by Jeff Buckley if he doesn't already have it. No collection is complete without it! .”

As she handed him a few records, she couldn’t help but glance at his face, noticing the way his eyes lingered on the artwork. There was something oddly familiar about him—like she had seen him somewhere before.

“Do you... work here?” he asked, finally taking a breath after looking over her selections.

Yn blinked, then laughed. “No I just give recommendations for fun and know where everything is...Yeah, I do. I’m Yn,” she said, holding out a hand. “I basically live and breathe music. If you’re really stuck, I’m your go-to.”

He shook her hand, his grip warm and firm. “Oscar,” he replied. “And... I think I might need more than just a go-to. I need expert advice.”

Yn grinned. “Well, lucky for you, I’m exactly that.”

Oscar hesitated, looking a little sheepish again. “I’m actually getting this for my friend. He invited me over to his family dinner, and... I need something that shows I’m not just a complete disaster at picking presents.”

Yn’s brow furrowed slightly, intrigued. “A friend? Who’s the lucky guy?”

“Charles,” Oscar said, a small smile tugging at his lips. “He’s... I guess you could say we’re not exactly from the same world, but he’s been super kind. I’m just trying to make sure I don’t look like a total fool showing up empty-handed.”

Oscar nodded thoughtfully, looking down at the records she’d picked out. “I think these might actually do the trick.”

“Glad I could help. Just don’t show up without one of these,” she teased, before adding with a wink, “and maybe don’t tell Charles I’m the one who saved your Christmas dinner reputation.”

oscarpiastri just posted!

family dinner

tagged: charlesleclerc, arthurleclerc, alexandrasaintmleux, leo

liked by charlesleclerc, landonorris, arthurleclerc and 691,203 others

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charlesleclerc: Always room for you at the table, mate. You’re family now. 🍷🎄

alexandrasaintmleux: So happy to have you with us! Next time, I’m picking the wine, though🫣

arthurleclerc: My nephew👨‍🍼

messages!

yourusername just posted!

life lately🎼🎧

liked by oscarpiastri, yourbsf, user45 and 2,134 others

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yourbsf: Bestie, you’re just casually glowing in every single pic?? Teach me your ways immediately. 😭✨ ->yourusername: It’s all the good vibes and late-night playlists 😌

user45: Not me zooming in to see what books and records are in the background 👀

user89: Can we talk about how Oscar Piastri is casually in the likes?? 🧐

->user34: Right?? What’s he doing here lol. ->user77: Someone’s a fan of more than just F1, it seems. 👀

user777: This is such a vibe—are you starting a Pinterest board for us, or what?

user90: “Life lately” but make it the main character of a coming-of-age film. 💿✨

oscarpiastri just posted a story!

[pic 1:🎶 ] [pic 2: Bake Off Ready?]

twitter

discogs!

profile: oscar81

recently added....

pools to bathe in ~ the japanese house

salad days ~ mac demarco

midas ~ wunderhorse

f1gossip just posted!

rumoured new wag yn ln was spotted at dinner with oscar piastri. could this be the mysterious record girlie behind his soft-launch posts?

liked by landonorris, arthurleclerc, yourbsf and 32,407 others

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user4: lando in the likes? he's so messy i love him

->user3: and arthur, they defo know something

user15: so when’s the hard launch? paddock debut in Aus or a Valentine’s post? place your bets, people

user11: i give it two weeks before he posts her blurry silhouette holding a coffee cup

yourbsf: @yourusername no way haha

->yourusername: 👀

oscarpiastri just posted!

now i'm lost in your melody

liked by landonorris, mclaren, charlesleclerc and 765,091 others

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yourusername: JEFF BUCKLEY?? i've taught you well☺️

->oscarpiastri: saving my music taste since we first met🧡

charlesleclerc: so this is who i have to thank for my present 😉 bring her to the next family dinner son i approve

->oscarpiastri: will do dad 🙂⬆️

landonorris: ok lover boy

mclaren: we can't wait to meet yn🧡

->yourusername: me too admin!!🧡

user7: sleeping on the motorway tonight

user29: love IS real

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

𝓛𝓪𝓼𝓽 𝓒𝓱𝓻𝓲𝓼𝓽𝓶𝓪𝓼

Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader, Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader (past)

Summary: After last years incident you don't know if you can move on, but Wanda shows you how real love feels.

Word Count: 1.1K

Warnings: Hurt/comfort, Nat cheats

AU: Pietro is alive :D

Author's note: Merry Christmas! I wasn't planning on making another fic for Christmas, but I was listening to Christmas music while wrapping and well here you go~

Snow was gently falling in New York making everything feel more magical. All the decor was up, the tree fully lit at the Rockefeller center and people were bustling more than usual to get their Christmas shopping done. 

You were trying to pick a gift out for your secret Santa, Wanda. Tony did this every year for his holiday party. You really weren't in the mood for it this year, but you were trying…after last Christmas things didn't feel as magical. 

Last Year

“Come on Tasha! We're gonna be late if you take any longer on your make-up!” You playfully called out. She smirked at you through the mirror. 

“Don't worry Detka, we'll make it.” Her sultry voice wrapped around you. You looked her over as she stood; a tight short black dress, tights, heels to match. Her hair was pulled into a fancy braid she'd mentioned the name of earlier, but you couldn't remember it. 

The party was in full swing by the time you two arrived. You were in fact upset about it because Natasha knows how you hate to be late because of your anxiety. As soon as you set your gift on the table for secret Santa Natasha was gone in the crowd. Interacting with the boys and Maria. You frowned, but went to grab some finger foods and a drink while you found the twins and Vision. The three of them are talking about experiencing Christmas for the first time. 

You sat yourself next to Wanda with the boys across the table on another couch. The four of you talking for a bit before you realized Natasha hadn't come to find you. 

A pout covered your mouth as you got up, “I'll be back guys I'm gonna go check on Tasha.” You excused yourself making your way through the crowd of people, looking everywhere until in the corner of your eye, her dress caught your eye. Your head turning and the glass in your hand falling with a sharp crash to the tiled floor. 

Natasha was kissing Maria. 

You were noticed by many including Natasha who looked like she had regret on her face. Not for the kiss itself, but because she was caught. 

You walked out of that party and didn't look back. 

Present Day

You got yourself ready, looking over yourself in the mirror and then at the clock. You'd be a little early which was perfect. You grabbed your gift for Wanda. It was perfect for her. It was a few different things. 

Tony never had limits on how much to spend. If you got him as your secret Santa you could expect a car or a new place to live.

You got there, hugging Tony with a smile. “I'm surprised you decided to actually come. You even have your gift!” Tony said surprised. You gave him a roll of your eyes. 

“Yeah I wasn't sure if I'd come at first after last year I felt sick thinking about it and about seeing her. I gave her my heart Tony…she gave it away. I decided if I did come this year then…I'd give it to someone special…” you explained to him. Tony was like your annoying older brother. You told him a lot of your problems and he was happy to listen. 

He gave you another hug, a nice tight one where you could smell his cologne clearly, making your nose scrunch up a bit.

“Go get her.” He whispered before letting go. 

It was hours into the party. You'd spent the whole time with the twins. Vision had gone off to talk with Tony at some point and now it was time for secret Santa. You got up, grabbing your gift to Wanda and you were surprised to see she had you as well.

The two of you laughed, deciding to go find her old room in the tower so you two could have a quiet moment to open each other's gifts. 

You both sat across from each other, she was cross legged in her usual black skirt and thigh highs, a low cut tank top and a dark gray cardigan fell off one shoulder that she kept fixing. Rings adorned all her fingers, some having multiple. You smiled as you gave her your gift. 

“Open yours first Wands.” You insisted, making her giggle which had your stomach doing flips. Biting the inside of your cheek to try to hide the effect the witch had on you. 

She opened up the bag that contained a few wrapped gifts. 

“You didn't have to get me so much.” She said with her honeyed accent. 

“I couldn't decide…they all felt like they were perfect for you.” You saw the barely There blush that covered her cheeks as she refused to look up from unwrapping. 

You'd gotten her a new mug that said village witch with a little graphic of a witches hut, the smoke coming out of it a ghost. The next gift was a variety pack of different teas from around the world. The last gift you'd gotten her was a new set of tarot cards. 

“Oh y/n! These are amazing and I love them! I can't wait to try the teas and you're getting the first reading with this tarot deck.” She said, leaning forward to hug you tight. “Now it's your turn!” She squealed excitedly. 

You smiled, taking the gift from her, opening it up, your jaw dropped. You just stared for a minute, speechless before looking up at her. 

“You��you made me a burr basket?” you asked dumbfounded. 

You'd asked Natasha for boo baskets and burr baskets and she never got them or made them and it hurt every time. 

“Yeah you kept talking about them so I wanted to make you one. I hope I did it right. I watched a bunch of tiktoks on making them and how others had them.” She rambled out. 

Tears welled up in your eyes, there was a blanket, slippers, flannel pj's pants, a face mask, eye mask, a little holiday squishmallow, lip balm, your favorite perfume, and some seasonal chocolate. 

“W-Wands…I…i don't have words this is…I…” you physically couldn't form words. You looked up at her and realized the only thing you could do to say thank you was kiss her. 

You moved the gifts out of the way, crawling forward and letting your lips brush against hers, when she didn't pull away you pushed into her, letting your lips pressed together. Your hand cupped her cheek as her lips started to move against yours. 

When you both needed air you pulled back just a little, your foreheads touching. 

“I wasn't expecting that as a thank you, but I won't lie…I've been wanting you to kiss me like that since I came to America…” she confessed. How had you not noticed what was right in front of you this whole time?

“Wands…would you do me the honor of being my girlfriend?” You ask softly.

“I thought you'd never ask.” She practically growled before kissing you again. 

This wouldn't be like with Natasha. You knew this was different. You could feel it. 

She was your someone special.

[mostly-marvel-musings]

Shooing skills

A/N: This was random! Hope you enjoy reading it :)

Pairing: Tony Stark x Wife! Reader

Warning: Jealous Tony = Hot Tony.

.

“I don’t know how you do it!”

“Huh? Do what?”

Tuning back into the conversation you were already done with, you tapped your shiny rock that sat on your ring finger against the glass of champagne you held, hoping the person opposite you would get the hint and leave you alone.

Apparently not.

Either he was too dumb to catch on or chose to ignore it completely and continue with his brazen flirting. The guy —whose name you hadn’t bothered to remember had cornered you, leaving you no room to escape, and you felt obliged to speak to him considering the donation he’d pledged.

“You’re literally an Avenger, and you’ve organised this event, plus I heard from someone that you paint too?” He went on, leaning closer in a way that bothered you.

“Umm. Yeah. Just a little..” You shrugged, eyes skimming across the room, looking for your man who was nowhere to be seen.

“You’ve got it all, Y/N. You’re truly an amazing woman.”

“Well, thanks. You’re kind.” You chuckled awkwardly, rubbing your bare shoulder which the man took as an opportunity to let his obviously lust-filled gaze roam all over your body.

“Any guy would be lucky to have you. Say you’re not seeing anyone, are you?”

“Erm—”

“She is. Rather she was seeing me, for a year. Then I gave her that stunning rock which you haven’t noticed, and then she married me exactly thirteen months ago.”

Relief spread through your chest as a smile made its way to your lips, a firm tug pulled you closer against Tony Stark, your terribly handsome husband. The glare that guy was subjected to was much deserved as you watched him straighten up and clear his throat awkwardly.

“Oh! Tony, I—I mean Mr. Stark I had no idea—”

Tony dismissed him with a wave of his hand, using the other to bring your left hand up to his lips for a soft kiss.

“Don’t go bothering people’s wives now.” He called out, rolling his eyes as the fully grown adult of a businessman stumbled into a waiter before disappearing into the crowd.

“Nice shooing skills.” You straightening the bowtie he wore, smiling as Tony continued to eye the man who’d just hit on you.

“Thanks.”

“Though you made a mistake, dear husband.” You murmured, turning to him as he held onto your waist possessively.

“What?” For a flash second, Tony tensed up, unsure where you were going with this.

“You married me fourteen months ago.”

Exhaling in relief, he gave you a winning grin, leaning in for a kiss which you happily returned.

“Baby, in my head we were married the moment I laid eyes on you.”

“Such a liar.”

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes. Finishing your drink, you shook your head before Tony pulled you closer, clearly feigning hurt at your reaction.

“You don’t believe me?”

“Tony, I literally had to drop so many hints before you finally mustered up the courage to finally ask me out.”

It was true. It took him months to admit to his growing feelings towards you before he finally knocked on your door one day to ask you for dinner. “The team is out for the night and I was wondering if you were the sort of person who eats dinner?” Were his exact words as you recalled. It was cute and rather hilarious watching Iron Man all flustered.

“Hey! I can’t be a genius when it comes to all things. Give me break! Besides, you agreed to marry me. Not Mr. Random Romeo over there. Me.”

Giggling, you pressed a kiss to his stubbled cheek, watching his eyes narrowing as he spotted that man wandering along the halls again.

“Yes, I did. My hero.”

It was kinda hot watching your husband get all jealous, not something you’d see often considering most people were well aware of the fact that you were Tony’s girl.

“Why do you attract these schmucks?” Tony wondered out loud, grabbing your hand as you made your way through the crowd. It would be a long night and messing with your husband never seemed like a better idea.

“Mm. Believe me, I keep asking myself the same question some days.”

[fluentmoviequoter]

Between the Holidays

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!neighbor!reader

Summary: Tim drops by the day after Christmas, and your family leads you to make an unplanned confession.

Warnings: fluff, meddling family members, OOC Tim

Word Count: 1.0k+ words

Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Rules

“How?” you mumble as you pull wrapping paper shreds from your kitchen cabinets. “This is what I get for hosting.”

Your family is slowly waking on the morning after Christmas, the younger ones still enamored with their gifts, and the older members looking for something to keep them awake for another day of festivities. Everyone gathers in the living room to drink coffee and cocoa before the doorbell rings.

“Who is that?” your cousin closest in age to you asks.

“No idea. Breakfast is almost ready; I’ll be right back,” you reply.

Opening the door, you don’t expect to see your neighbor Tim.

“Good morning!” you greet with a smile. “How was your Christmas?”

“It was alright. Had to work, but we all went out for Chinese last night. How was yours?”

“Good, good. Nice to have everyone together again.”

“I brought you this,” Tim says, lifting a brown pie box from the bench beside your door. “Someone delivered over a hundred to the station, and I thought it was your favorite.”

Smiling, you read the flavor label. “It is my favorite. How did you remember that?”

“Who’s at the door?” your father calls.

You mouth an apology to Tim before asking, “We’re about to have breakfast, do you want to join us? At least let me send some home-cooked food home with you.”

“How can I argue with that?”

“Come on in.”

Tim steps into your doorway, and you close the door before leading him toward the kitchen.

“Who is this?” someone inquires. “Your boyfriend?”

“Boyfriend?!” your father repeats incredulously.

“I didn’t know you had a boyfriend!” your cousin says. She moves closer to whisper, “Good job.”

“No,” you try to interrupt but get cut off by several family members simultaneously.

“How did you meet?” your grandparents wonder.

“Why weren’t you at Christmas yesterday?” someone else asks Tim.

“He probably has his own family,” your cousin suggests. “He could’ve brought them, though, we have room.”

“Why didn’t you tell us you were seeing someone?”

“How long have you been together? Have you discussed marriage, kids?”

“Is that pie?”

“What do you see in each other?”

“Stop!” you yell. “This is Tim. He is my neighbor, and if he was my boyfriend, you would have successfully scared him away already, so thank you all for that. Now, if you will please let me get him some food, I would appreciate it.”

“In my day, we didn’t cook for someone unless we intended to do it for the rest of our lives,” an older relative mumbles.

You lead Tim into the kitchen and out of their invasive sight. After you set the pie down, you drop your head against the fridge and sigh.

“I am so sorry,” you tell Tim. “Help yourself to whatever you want and feel free to go out the back door and jump the fence.”

“So, you’re telling me you don’t want to cook for me for the rest of our lives?” Tim asks.

You groan, and Tim lays his hand on your back. You lean into his touch, getting closer to him without thinking.

“Sweetheart!” someone calls. “We found your boy- your neighbor’s gifts under the tree!”

“Why are there so many- oh.” Your cousin walks into the kitchen with several presents in her arms but stops when she sees you standing close to Tim. “Maybe I’ll just leave these here.”

She sets them beside the pie and then returns to the living room, where their muffled conversation is still clearly about you and your handsome neighbor.

“You know, I was thinking about having them over next Christmas, but I think I’m done hosting for the rest of my life,” you tell Tim. “There are your presents, and I’ll pack up some food.”

“Why are there so many?” Tim asks, moving with you.

You shrug and answer, “I saw things that made me think of you, and I wanted you to know that you’re cared about, that you’re loved.”

Slowing your movements, you realize what you just said. Your family seems to fade away as you turn toward Tim. His brows are raised as if he expects you to say more.

“I didn’t tell them you were my boyfriend or that I have feelings for you,” you explain. “But I’m not going to lie to you and say I don’t.”

“I was expecting to just drop off the pie and go home,” Tim says.

“Yeah, well my family should have a shared PhD in making things awkward and ruining things.”

“Awkward, yes. Do you think anything is ruined?”

You put a lid on the glass storage bowl containing Tim’s breakfast before you face him. “I don’t think that’s my decision, considering I’m the one who essentially just admitted I’m in love with you.”

“Is breakfast ready?” your dad yells before saying something suspiciously like, “Ow! I was only asking.”

“How long is your family here?” Tim asks.

“They leave tomorrow afternoon. Please don’t tell me you can hear them at your place.”

“No, no, at least I don’t think so. But maybe you should come over after they leave, and we can make some plans for New Year’s Eve.”

You hesitate, then ask, “Are you saying you feel the same?”

“I’m saying that I’d rather show you.”

“I’ll be there. Enjoy your gifts and your breakfast and wish me luck.”

“You’ll be fine.”

You put Tim’s gifts and breakfast plate in a bag before you lead him back toward the door.

“I don’t buy that they’re neighbors,” your mom murmurs.

Tim stops and turns toward your family, who are all staring at him.

“Respectfully, she already told you that we’re neighbors and she doesn’t want to talk about it,” Tim reminds them. “When there is something to tell, it’s her decision about when and how to let you know. Enjoy the rest of your holiday.”

Hiding your smile, you close the door behind Tim. Your family drops the subject of Tim Bradford, at least in front of you, as you serve breakfast. Your holiday looks brighter, however, because Tim Bradford said you would call the shots when there was something between you. Not if, when. And starting tomorrow night, he has plans to show you what that means.

[eurydicees]

oh dont apologise i loved your essay 😭 and i 100% agree with everything. Theres such a innate theme of choices and consequences in wicked the musical and its so fascinating to me how choices made by all the characters have such profound consequences at the end. And fiyero’s choices are no different in the way they alter the trajectory of multiple characters.

He is really the only one i can think of who sacrifices everything for elphaba and does it all willingly. How do you like elphaba and then dislike the one character who was ready to give up his whole life and everything that came with it for her 😭

Twitter is very binary in that regard honestly, and its such a shame that they miss out on some pretty interesting character analysis about their favourite characters bc they decide to be so rigid and weird about other characters who had an impact on their faves. Couldnt be me lol, making multiple threads about a character you hate. I also think something else is at play here but dont wanna say it publicly lol but given your other responses i think you’d probably agree.

And yes totally agree about dividing the film in two parts - i can only hope the film watchers stick around for part 2 and see fiyero’s whole arc

thanks for the ask! also i wrote another fiyero ted talk. if i were like charles dickens or whoever and i was getting paid by the word to write about fiyero, i could be so goddamn rich btw.

anyways, choices and consequences!!!!! like that's the whole thing!!!!!!! and the way our choices affect and change other people!!!! fiyero isn't an exception to any of that!!!!

you're so right that fiyero is truly the one who makes the ultimate sacrifices for elphaba. like glinda loves elphaba, she absolutely does. but she isn't able to take on the work and life that elphaba chooses in defying gravity.

when it comes to the things that are most important to her, glinda prioritizes comfort and reputation over, like, morality and principle. and the thing about glinda is that she actively makes this choice. she chooses not to go with elphaba. she wants elphaba to succeed, but she's not brave enough to join her. in order for glinda to find the bravery to take up the work elphaba starts, she has to lose everything that actually matters. and she has to be complicit in her own losing of those things.

fiyero loves elphaba to the point of sacrificing all of those things that glinda can't resist. the day with the lion cub, and elphaba's general influence on him, changes fiyero profoundly in a similar way that she affects glinda, but fiyero finds the bravery to act on all of that. the difference is that he doesn't get the choice to go with her until mid-act 2 after wonderful.

in thank goodness, there's that one exchange between fiyero and glinda where they say smth like "you just can't resist all of this" "well who could?" "you know who could, and who has." and he's talking about elphaba, he's talking about how she had all the love she ever wanted at the tip of her fingers when she met the wizard, and she chose to let it go because she saw the ugly parts of the wizard's world. and this exchange is so clearly boiling it down to "elphaba resisted the temptation of being universally/publically loved and glinda did not." which tbh is something so in character for a person who has never had that, and a person who has always had that and thus doesn't want to leave it behind.

ok i was going somewhere with this but i don't remember where. just. fiyero isn't a perfect character. and for SURE the choice to erase gelphie's romantic subtext from the book when adapting it for broadway was an act of homophobia. but if we're just looking at musical canon, fiyero is brave enough to give up everything first to save elphaba, then to go with her, and then to protect her. and so-called elphaba stans don't think that's good enough. which is CRAZY to me.

also like. he's literally not the comphet love interest. sorry you didn't mention that but i keep seeing people throw those words around and like that's not what's happening here guys. elphaba loves him. she sings a whole song about it. multiple, even.

comphet implies that she mistakenly thinks she loves him because society has molded her into believing that's how she should be (fyi if anyone's experiencing that, it's glinda but i digress). elphaba, who notably has never been able to comply to the mold society makes for women, because she's never been pretty white woman enough to be afforded a place in that society? you mean that elphaba?

guys elphaba just...loves him. that's all there is to it. she loves him when she realizes he's more than he thinks he is, more than the airs he puts off. she loves him when she feared he might have changed, she loves him when he proves he did change--for the better. she loves him when he sticks by her, when he chooses her. she loves him when he's a fucking SCARECROW. ("go ahead, touch, i don't mind" "you're still beautiful" lives in my head rent fucking free).

when she has her breakthrough "okay. fuck this world that has never been good to me, if you want me to be wicked, i'll be wicked" moment, it's because she loses fiyero. she gets betrayed by nessa, and she fails dillamond, and she loses fiyero--and it's then that she loses sight of what good she had begun fighting for. it's a love for fiyero that drives most of no good deed (broadway songs of all time btw). like sorry but you dont sing someone's name like that if you don't love them. that's just musical theatre rules. trust me i was a theatre major.

anyways. sorry for that detour. back to the point. twitter treats everything as so black and white which is crazy because this is a revisionist musical about how evil isn't black and white. like?????? whatever. imagine being so bitter about a character you dislike that you want to change fundamental pieces of your favorite character so that he isn't relevant.

look. gelphie is great doomed yuri and i support that so hard. but dont try to tell me fiyero isn't deeply important to elphaba and to understanding elphaba's character. tbh the love triangle here isn't fiyero choosing between glinda and elphaba. it's more like elphaba choosing between glinda and fiyero and what either of them represent to her (glinda and working within the system, or fiyero, and abandoning it).

and hot take maybe but like ultimately--as someone who has never been conventionally accepted, as someone who has been hunted down to be murdered, as someone who has been the victim of a smear campaign and propaganda against her character/intentions, all of which was in part driven by glinda--she was always going to choose fiyero.

i respect gelphie shippers, i do. in another world, maybe one without the wizard, they could've been so happy together. i'm with y'all. but given canon, even if all others fall, i will be the last fiyero defender standing. god i hope movie-only fans watch part 2 and at least learn to RESPECT him. at the bare minimum. please. please. please.

[cruyuu]

I have to talk about the epilogue (Yuuji part only), you guys, especially after that official art drop because I'm going crazy.

Here, we clearly have Yuko (who we know has a crush on Yuuji) accidentally meeting him in Sendai. This whole moment is romantically-coded, and we even have the usual hints and nudges (such as Yuuji saying he heard where Yuko had been from Nobara) that it isn't truly one-sided either. Key point is that Yuuji loved snow and that he still loves it, and not only that, but that they meet in his hometown when it's snowing. I was informed that Christmas in Japan is kind of like a Valentine's Day so we can all assume this could be a soft nod to a future romance of two people who once knew each other, right? Right????

Yuuji said he loved snow. Yuko specifically says that it's bright, and that it reminds her of him.

Interestingly, the scene of the land filled with snow which is shown reminds me of this:

In the anime this scene is so well-done. The complete darkness of the night around Yuuji is replaced with a shot of Yuuji standing in the middle of a bright, snowy field.

I just find it interesting how on the nose it all is. It practically confirms that yes, that truly is Yuuji's soul that Mahito saw back then, but also, that Yuko is really into him, so much so that she sees who he really is.

So, we have the perfect set up, the perfect time to bring about any sort of confirmation if Yuko will be his romantic interest (because why the nudges if that's not the case) and what's up with the frequent mention of snowing (and them meeting in Sendai, of all places?). Remember that it's also basically love day in Japan, it practically has it all.

And then...

I'm trying my hardest not to ugly laugh right now as I'm writing this but I'm failing. I'm wheezing and I sound like I'm choking. My friend keeps texting me over and over that Gege's insane and at first I thought she was just going crazy over the official art but then... I finally realized why she repeated that over and over after I've read the epilogue.

See, Gege had the perfect opportunity to drop some romantic (or hell, any vibe really) official art of Yuko and Yuuji here. Maybe them just walking the streets of Sendai side by side while the snow is falling, idk, anything. They easily could've done it considering they had everything on the silver platter and it would've made sense. Plus it'll be romantic as hell too.

Why is Yuuji– “Snow is special to me”– dancing in the falling snow with Sukuna, happily laughing while Sukuna appears to be leading the dance? Is this a deleted scene from 265? Is this a joke? Is this confirmation that this is why to Yuuji snow is special? Does this mean that yeah, actually, Yuko's crush will forever be one sided and that all of that between them was nothing? Is Yuko supposed to be a stand in (mirror) for another character... a character who Yuuji promised he'll always live with, no matter if the world rejected him?

Is sukuita real? I can now say it is lmfao. In the episode featuring Yuuji being with a girl who has a crush on him (meanwhile Sukuna's sharing a moment with Uraume) the official art drop is of them... together. Dancing. On love day.

[mattyriddlesbitch]

Just A Game (Chapter Ten)

Mattheo Riddle x F!Reader

Warnings: Fighting, cussing

The rest of the weekend after the party was a blur. It felt too long and too short at the same time. Mattheo must’ve been hiding from you. You couldn’t find him around the castle at all.

You barely remember what happened that night. You remember drinking and dancing with your friends. You remember being shoved in a small closet with Mattheo and his lips on yours. You swear you remember hearing ‘I miss you too’ coming from him, but you can’t remember if that was your imagination.

Maybe you should stop drinking.

The feel of his lips haunted your days and nights. You had trouble sleeping and your mind would trail off, replaying that moment over and over.

You wondered if Mattheo had the same problem. Maybe that’s why he was hiding from you.

You knew he couldn’t escape you today though unless he skips class, which isn’t uncommon, but you were nearly praying he wouldn’t skip today.

You made it early to Herbology, taking your seat and nervously scribbling on your parchment. Why were you so nervous? Maybe because you drunkenly kissed the guy who sits next to you and he’s been avoiding you. You found yourself in an internal argument with yourself, only coming out of it when the other students started taking their seats too.

Mattheo was still nowhere to be seen as class started. You were a little frustrated now. It had been days. You just wanted to talk to him. That could also be why he was hiding from you, he knew you wanted to talk to him about the other night.

Suddenly, he came strolling into class about 10 minutes late, taking his seat by you like normal. He didn’t even look at you, but that was normal now.

The class was dragging on. You were patiently waiting for class to end so you could have a chance to talk to him.

The second you were dismissed, you shoved your stuff in your bag to make sure Mattheo couldn't get away from you this time. He was already almost out of the door by the time you even stood up. You weaved between the other students that were leaving to get to him. You finally caught his arm in the crowd of students, making you both stop as he turned to face you.

Another student ran into you from your sudden stop, making you stumble into Mattheo. He caught you and helped steady you.

“Watch where you're going.” The boy who ran into you said with a nasty attitude.

“You watch where the fuck you're going.” Mattheo spoke up before you even could. And as soon you turned around to face the boy, you saw Mattheo shove the boy away from you.

“She's the idiot who stopped in front of me!” The boy said, shoving Mattheo back.

“Watch your fucking mouth!” Mattheo spat back, stepping forward to hit him, but you grabbed his arm again.

“Mattheo.” You said his name to get his attention to stop him.

He stopped and glared at the boy before turning back to you.

“Yeah, obey your little bitch there.” The boy said, now with an amused tone.

Before the boy could even walk around him, Mattheo turned back to him quickly and punched him in the face with a loud crack. The sudden move and noise made you gasp and cover your mouth as you watched the boy fall to the ground.

“You ever call her a name again and I'll fucking gut you, understand?” Mattheo asked as he leaned over the boy.

“Mattheo! Enough!” You said, pulling him away by his arm, away from the crowd of students gathered around to watch the fight.

Mattheo let you drag him away without any resistance as he glared at the boy before turning back around to walk with you.

“Please don't hurt people for me again.” You said to him as he finally looked at you.

“He was a fucking prick! You should've let me.” Mattheo said, still clearly heated.

“Please, Mattheo.” You stopped walking to face him, making him stop to face you too, his hands now shoved in his pockets.

He exhaled sharply out of his nose. “What do you want?” His eyes flicked to the grass between you two instead of looking at you.

“I was kinda hoping to talk about Friday night.” You said, still looking at him, hoping he would look at you again.

He rolled his eyes, looking at you for a second before looking to the side. “It was just a game, (Y/N). That's all.”

“But you said you missed me.” You shifted on your feet, feeling your face heat from embarrassment now. Maybe you read it all wrong.

“I was drunk. I say stupid shit when I'm drunk.” He shook his head as he looked back at you.

“So that was a lie? And the kiss?” You asked, fidgeting with your hands in front of you.

“We were playing ‘7 Minutes in Heaven’, the whole point is to make out. Alright? I was playing the game.” He said, his face neutral.

“Oh.” Your gaze drifted down for a moment before looking back up at him. “I guess I misread it.”

“Yeah, guess so.” He said, sighing and looking back to the side.

“Why were you avoiding me this weekend?”

“(Y/N), just stop. Just stop. It was just a game. Don't read so much into it.” He said, shaking his head again, but refusing to look back at you.

“Right. You're right. It was just a game.” You said, looking back at the ground.

He stayed there for a few seconds before walking off back towards the castle.

“I meant my ‘I miss you’.” You called to him after a moment.

You saw him stop walking for a second before he continued, leaving you behind yet again.

Chapter 9

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[cayleeuhithinknott]

matt knows how much you hate to see christmas end.

the christmas tree stands in the corner of the living room, twinkling softly with its white lights and a few stray strands of tinsel that somehow ended up there after all the decorating chaos. you’re sitting on the couch, staring at it like you’re saying goodbye to an old friend. matt’s on the floor by the tree, already halfway through unboxing ornaments, carefully placing them back in their little slots.

“you know we don’t have to do this right now,” he says, glancing back at you. his voice is gentle, but there’s a teasing edge to it. “we could just leave it up forever. make it a, uh…year-round christmas tree.”

you smile faintly, hugging your knees to your chest. “don’t tempt me.”

matt smirks, turning back to the tree and plucking off a glittery snowflake ornament. “seriously, though. if it’s making you sad, we can wait a few more days.”

you shake your head. “no, it’s fine. it’s just…” you trail off, shrugging. “i don’t know. it’s stupid. christmas is over, and now everything feels kind of… boring again.”

he pauses, looking at you over his shoulder. “boring? come on, we have so much exciting stuff coming up. like, uh…” he pretends to think, tapping his chin dramatically. “laundry day. cleaning the fridge. oh, and let’s not forget the thrilling saga of returning that sweater your aunt got you.”

you laugh despite yourself, rolling your eyes. “wow, can’t wait.”

he grins, clearly pleased with himself, and turns back to the tree. “see? i’m full of great ideas.”

but as he continues taking down ornaments, you can’t help but feel a pang of sadness. the cozy glow of the tree, the scent of pine, the warmth of the holidays—it’s all disappearing too quickly. you stand up and walk over to where matt’s sitting, grabbing an ornament and turning it over in your hands. it’s one of your favorites, a little ceramic reindeer with a chipped ear.

“remember when you dropped this last year?” you ask, holding it up.

he glances at it and groans. “don’t remind me. you acted like i’d broken a family heirloom.”

“well, it’s cute,” you say, placing it gently in the box. “it deserves to be treated with care.”

“noted,” he says, shooting you a playful look. “no more reckless ornament handling.”

you smile, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. matt notices, of course he does, and sets down the strand of lights he’s untangling.

“hey,” he says softly, nudging your knee with his. “what’s really going on?”

you shrug, sitting down next to him. “i don’t know. i just… i love christmas. it’s my favorite time of year. and now it’s over, and everything feels kind of empty.”

he watches you for a moment, then leans over and bumps your shoulder with his. “you know, it doesn’t have to feel empty. we can keep some of the christmas magic alive.”

you raise an eyebrow at him. “oh yeah? how?”

he grins, his eyes lighting up with that mischievous sparkle you’ve come to know so well. “well, for starters, we could leave the tree half-decorated just to annoy everyone who visits.”

“matt.”

“or,” he continues, ignoring your tone, “we could eat christmas cookies every day until, like, march. just drown our post-holiday sadness in sugar.”

“matt!”

“or,” he says, turning to face you fully now, “we could just look forward to next christmas. because you know it’s going to be even better than this year. we’ll get an even bigger tree, put up even more lights, and—get this—we’ll start watching christmas movies in october. we’ll go full christmas overload.”

you laugh, finally feeling the weight in your chest start to lift. “october, huh? that’s a little extreme, even for me.”

“oh, come on,” he says, grinning. “you know you’d love it.”

you shake your head, but the smile on your face doesn’t fade. “maybe. we’ll see.”

he leans back against the couch, looking up at the tree. “besides, christmas isn’t just a day, you know? it’s a vibe. and i’m pretty sure we can keep that vibe going as long as we want.”

you glance at him, your heart softening at the way he’s trying so hard to cheer you up. “you’re such a dork,” you say, nudging him lightly.

“but i’m your dork,” he shoots back, winking.

you roll your eyes, but there’s no denying the warmth spreading through your chest. somehow, matt always knows exactly what to say to make you feel better.

together, the two of you finish packing up the ornaments, working in comfortable silence with the occasional joke or playful jab breaking the quiet. when the tree is finally bare, matt stands up and stretches, offering you a hand to help you up.

“ready to drag this thing out to the curb?” he asks, nodding toward the tree.

you sigh, but there’s a smile on your face now. “yeah, i guess so.”

as you both wrestle the tree out the door, leaving a trail of pine needles in your wake, you can’t help but feel a little lighter. christmas may be over, but with matt by your side, you know there’s plenty to look forward to—this year, next year, and every year after that.

a/n: 2 posts in one day wow! i stole @strnilolover little sparkly divider sorry!!! anyway im sad christmas is over so im projecting it onto this😍

tags: @sturniolo04 @admeliora94 @claireezz10 @snuffbut @frattboychris @marrykisskilled @mqttittude @purpledragon222

[everlastingdreams]

The Weeping Monk x Fem!Reader : Forged Of Fire Chapter 30

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Story Summary: Raised under the tiranny of your own family, and forced to steal to earn your keep, you struggle to survive. Born from a Fey mother, and a Manblood father who wanted only sons, you are forced to hide your Fey side. When you are ordered to steal from Father Carden by your half-brother, Cassian, your life spirals out of control and you find yourself at the mercy of the Weeping Monk. The life you knew changes drastically when Cassian betrays you in the cruelest of ways. A trade is made, a promise is broken, and a debt must be paid.

Chapter Title: A Vow Of Devotion

Notes: !!!!Extra warnings for this chapter added !!!!

Trigger warning for this chapter: !!!!This chapter very briefly mentions the memory of a child abuse attempt. It also mentions the memory of a SA attempt. Neither of them involve y/n and neither of them are descriptive. !!!!

Warnings: Angst. Hurt. Trauma bonding. Intrafamily violence. Depression. Self-harm. Suicidal thoughts. Violence. Torture. Gore. Pining. Trauma. Self-Flagellation. Manipulation. Strong Language. Blood. Misogyny. PTSD. Spicy and smut parts. Slight redemption arc. Lima/Stockholm syndrom-ish. Childhood trauma.

Other warnings: Jealousy. Forced Marriage. Forbidden Love. Romance. Slow-burn. Found Familly-ish. Comfort. Fluff. !SMUT and SPICE!

Word count of this fic: +250K

Chapter:  30/47

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The warmth inside the cave had successfully dried most of your jacket, the warm sun would do the rest as you rode a little behind Gawain and Lancelot. Percival was seated in front of Lancelot and had not said much since leaving the cave and neither had Lancelot. It was Gawain who kept the conversation going by trying to inform the three of you how things were among the Fey these days. Lancelot sometimes replied to him and it showed that he knew more of Fey customs than anyone had expected. There had to be things he remembered of his past and things he had learned after having hunted the Fey for so long, it was not unusual for one to become quite knowledgeable on the subject of that which they spend most of their time on. You had not said much in the past hours, the afternoon sun was warming your back as you just listened to Gawain talk about Nimue.

“She would not want you to weep for her.” Gawain said to Percival.

Percival snapped his eyes away, clearly not happy to hear that. “The paladins made her fall and drown! Why can I not weep?!”

Gawain tried to explain that it was only meant to comfort him, “Percival, I did not mean that-”

“I hate them! I hate them all!” The boy snapped.

Lancelot tensed up behind him but tried to mask the reaction by readjusting how he was seated. Then Percival threatened to dismount, but he prevented it. “Percival.”

Percival hated that others would see the tears that threatened to blur his vision again, hearing about Nimue and how she had died was too much for him.

Lancelot held the boy seated securely in front of him, lowering his voice to calm him, “No one here will mock you for weeping. Mourn your friend without reservation.”

Gawain gave a reassuring nod towards Percival when the boy looked at him again. “My words were meant to offer comfort, they were not meant to upset you.”

“Fine.” Percival sighed, shaking the outburst from his shoulders.

Relief washed through all, Gawain chose a different topic to speak about. This time he spoke of the time where Lancelot had tried to burn him alive in a mill, and when you looked at the Ash Man for an explanation he kept his eyes straight ahead.

“He never told me that.” you bitterly said.

Gawain looked at you. “He does not appear to be a man of many words.”

There was still no eye-contact from the culprit. “And certainly not when it could bring him trouble.”

Lancelot scoffed, finally breaking the silence, “I had my orders. They wanted you, Green Knight, because you had killed many of the paladins. The Church was pressuring Father into capturing those with the strongest influence among the Fey.”

Gawain smiled, finding it amusing. “I suppose I could take it as a compliment.”

“I did capture you.” Lancelot still sounded proud of that achievement.

Gawain tried to temper that pride. “Yes. After a lot of effort.”

Percival found it the perfect timing to speak up on the fight he had witnessed between them, telling Gawain, “He fights faster than you.”

Lancelot turned his head the other side, hiding the victorious smile from the knight upon hearing the child sound so impressed.

Gawain send Percival a look, “Who’s side are you on, boy?”

That cheeky child grinned at the knight, knowing exactly how to get on his nerves.

Gawain shook his head, not giving either of them anymore attention. “We should stop at Crowgrove and acquire supplies, unless we wish to starve on our way to Gramaire.”

“Very well.” Lancelot agreed on that plan, he looked back at you, “Do you still have the pouch I gave you?”

A bad feeling sank itself into your stomach, quickly you searched your satchel. The pouch was no longer in there. “I don’t… I’m sorry. My father must have taken it.”

“It is not your fault.” he quickly said, then looked at Gawain. “We could trade?”

“Trade what?” Gawain asked.

“I still have my daggers.” Lancelot suggested.

Gawain pointed out a problem, “If we offer a merchant there one of those daggers, it will get us unwanted attention. They have the symbol of the Church on them, do they not?”

Lancelot nodded disappointed. “Then what can we trade?”

“We’ll see what we can do once we are there.” The knight sighed, not having an answer to that problem yet.

A loud scream coming from the left of you startled all, Lancelot by reflex held up a hand to signal the rest of you to stop. More screams traveled through the forest fast, you could hear people run.

Gawain spotted the origin of the sound. “Paladins. They are chasing two Fey women into the woods.”

The knight began to ride towards the sound, Lancelot called out to him, “Green Knight, we shouldn’t. If they see us alive-”

“You should not, but I do. I will not ignore their call for help.” Gawain was firm on that and gave the Ash Man a disappointed look. “My people need me. Ride ahead, I will find you.” The knight left no room for debate and rode towards the danger.

Lancelot sighed, swallowing down the curse he wished to emit. “Percival, dismount and ride with her until I return.”

“But-” Percival did not want to miss out on the action.

“Now.” he told him.

He helped the boy slide down from Goliath, and whilst you helped Percival up on your horse Lancelot put his bow into his lap then spurred Goliath on into a gallop. What you didn’t understand was why he wasn’t riding in the same direction Gawain had gone in.

“Do we have to just wait here?” Percival sounded appalled.

You didn’t plan to wait and see if they came back alive or not, even though they had clearly thought you would. But there was a child with you. “It’s dangerous…”

Percival looked back at you, reading the truth right out of your eyes.

“Fine. But we don’t get too close and we stay hidden, understood?” you knew that it was a risk with the boy’s unpredictable character.

When Percival promised not to take risks, you rode in the direction that the sound came from. By the time you were almost close, you could hear a fight going on. You halted the horse, dismounted and hid with Percival among the bushes and trees. Gawain was at a distance, fighting a group of paladins while two young Fey women and him were cornered by a rock formation. It was not a fair fight, five against one, Gawain was defending more than he could attack.

“Percival, I need to help him. Swear to me that you will stay hidden!” you held him by the shoulder. When he did not answer right away, you gave him a little shake. “Percival?”

The boy nodded. “I’ll stay out of sight.”

“Good lad.” you cupped his cheek for a moment, then quickly moved through the bushes towards the Green Knight.

Gawain noticed you approaching and looked both relieved by the incoming help, and annoyed that you had chosen to engage in battle.

You drew your sword and stepped into the sight of the paladins, one turned to look your way. Another was charging at the knight, that paladin’s plan was ruined when an arrow landed into the side of his neck and the force of it send him to the ground. Gawain looked around for a second, then continued to fight the other paladins who were clearly confused by the fatal arrow. You warded off the attack of the paladin who had noticed you by holding your sword vertically and swung your sword at him next, he evaded your sword but an arrow pierced itself into his chest and you stumbled back away from him. That had been too close for comfort, you looked where the arrow must have traveled from and spotted Lancelot up on the rock formation as he took aim again at the remaining paladins. He would not have a drop of blood on him whilst killing his former red brothers up from that advantage point. With the low supplies in mind, you grabbed hold of the arrow lodged into the paladin’s chest and pulled it free. Another had taken advantage of your brief moment of distraction to try and grab you from behind.

“I remember you!” he loudly exclaimed. “The Weeping Monk’s whore!”

You turned the arrow in your hand and with a quick backwards motion you stabbed the arrowhead into his cheek and pulled it free right away, blood splattered onto your shoulder and neck. It was nauseating but you did not falter, by turning into his hold you broke free and stabbed him with the arrowhead in the neck. Blood gushed out of his neck and you backed away to avoid getting it on yourself but you still felt the blood splatters land on your face. When you looked up, Gawain was delivering the death blow to the last paladin. The knight then noticed you and the state of your appearance, and what he saw must have startled him.

He called out to you, “Are you alright?”

It took you a few seconds to answer, “Yes.”

He turned to the frightened Fey women to talk to them and you approached them. They had been on their way home with their family when they encountered the paladins, they got seperated from the rest of them when they had run.

“They are not far.” Lancelot came from between the trees, having overheard the conversation. Percival was at his side.

The women cowered away in terror at the sight of him and it took Gawain some effort to assure them that Lancelot was no threat to them. You noticed the hurt in Lancelot’s eyes at witnessing their reaction to his presence.

Still, the Ash Man tried to help. “I can lead you to them.”

The women had their arms hooked together, seeking support and comfort with each other. They looked at you and Percival, and how you both had no fear of the one they so feared.

You saw it as a quiet request for your opinion. “We can help you. Lancelot can bring you to your family.”

“He’ll kill them.” The auburn haired woman said.

At that, Lancelot send his gaze to the grass, he had wanted to walk away but Percival took hold of his sleeve and wouldn’t let him. Someone needed to be his voice, for he would not be it for himself now you realized. You turned to the women.

“He saved my life, he saved Percival’s life. He just helped the Green Knight save you. Trust him to help you when he says he will, I promise it is worth it.” you spoke with fervor, then walked away to collect the arrows that had been used.

The women looked between the two men and the boy who had not expected you to speak so strongly for the former Weeping Monk. You heard a few sentences being spoken between them all, then Lancelot came to you just as you took out the arrow lodged into a paladin’s stomach.

“I am going to retrieve the horses, I will be back in a moment.” he informed. “We’ll lead them to their family and resume our journey afterwards.”

You were glad to hear it. “They are just frightened, they don’t know you like we do.”

He fidgeted with the bow, stealing the bloodied arrows from your hand. “I saw you fight. You are getting better.”

You picked up on that nervous note in his voice. “Truly?”

“Yes.” he liked to see that smile on your face. “We shall stop by a river so you can wash the blood off.”

Almost had you forgotten about the blood that had splattered onto your face. “That would be lovely. Oh, and uhm… that was impressive archery you displayed.”

“Thank you.” His eyes darted over your face, then he shook his head as if he wished to erase his thoughts and walked off.

The reaction was so odd that it left you a bit dumbfounded, Gawain began to walk towards you with Percival and the Faun Folk women and gave you a curious look. You shrugged your shoulders a little, acting like it was nothing important. Mere minutes later, Lancelot returned riding Goliath, the reins of the other horses in his hand. Gawain let the two women mount Gringolet and decided to walk beside them whilst Lancelot led the way. You rode beside Lancelot with Percival seated in front of you, watching how easily the Ash Man could find the rest of the Faun family. You wondered if your sense of smell would ever be that strong. He halted before he’d get too close and risk scaring away the Fey up ahead.

“They are over there.” he pointed to a spot further away with a lot of birch trees that had grown closely together.

Gawain helped the women dismount and walked the distance with them towards the spot that Lancelot had pointed out. Lancelot kept a watchful eye and saw the women reunite with their family, they all spoke to the knight for a little while. In the meantime Percival switched horses to ride with Lancelot again.

When Gawain returned, he walked past Goliath to mount his horse. “They asked me to thank you for helping them.”

Lancelot only nodded, still thinking about how they had reacted just by the sight of him and what they had said.

Gawain was grateful for the help. “And I am glad to see that you came to aid me, I did not know for certain if you would.”

“I swore to Percival that I would help the Fey where I could.” he said.

Gawain saw it differently. “I think you decided to help not because of a promise, but because you knew it was the right choice to do so.”

They shared a look amongst each other, and you knew the knight had made the right assumption.

Gawain leaned forward a little to look past Lancelot at you. “We’ll travel along the river to Crowgrove, so your dear friend can get that blood off of her. We do not want to alarm the villagers.”

“That bad, huh?” you winced.

Lancelot looked at you, a smirk formed on his lips when he decided how to answer. “It could be worse.”

Gawain rolled his eyes and straightened his back. “You would tell her she looks beautiful even if she would be drenched in mud from her head to her feet.”

The smirk vanished from Lancelot’s face and he looked ahead instead. Percival frowned for a second, then looked at the Ash Man from the corner of his eyes with suspicion. You knew what the knight was insinuating but ignored it just as you had done so when the paladins would share their opinions on the connection between you and Lancelot. Until last night he had not crossed that line, and he had only done so because he was consumed by grief. Gawain began to ride again, leading you back on the road to Crowgrove.

        About an hour had past before reaching the river. The plan was to stop for a moment, then continue along the river to reach Crowgrove. The chance to wash the blood off was not one you would pass up on. After tying the reins of the grey mare to a tree, you went to the riverbank and knelt down to splash water up in your face. Gawain and Percival took seat on the grass to enjoy the sun. Lancelot strolled over to you, watching the river’s stream as he stood a few steps away. Because of the warm sun, the temperature of the water was just right and a contented hum sounded from deep within your chest.

He had forgotten all he had come to say, the moment he saw that water drip along your neck his thoughts were diluted by invasive ones he could not stop. The warm river water mixed with your scent was pleasing his senses greatly.

You were in the midst of trying to wash the blood out of your sleeve when noticing that he was trying not to stare. The jest fell, “Here to make sure I clean myself well?”

Immediately he forced his eyes to the river. “Did Lord Leoric do so?” he blurted out.

It made you go quiet for a few seconds. Now you were the one staring at him.

“I am concerned.” he admitted. “You were locked in that room, told to bathe against your will… were there other matters forced on you?”

You shook your head. “Not the sort that you think may have happened. Lord Leoric saw me as an oddity for him to study, he wanted me to be perfect like a statue for display.”

He was relieved to hear it. “Forgive me for pressing the matter. When I was with the Red Paladins, I bore witness to the atrocities they tried to commit when they thought I was not there to see it.”

You looked up at him in shock.

He swallowed hard, jaw tense as he spoke. “Not all kept to the vow. I caught three of them, all on separate occasions, attempting to force themselves on women.”

He was not comfortable to speak of it, the memory visibly unsettled him to recall. You were very quiet while listening.

He looked behind him to make certain Percival was nowhere close enough to hear. “I did warn them that I would be unforgiving if I learned of such behavior. And I was.”

“You killed them?” you asked.

He gave a sharp nod. “A benefit of making them fear me was that no one dared to cross me. And even if they had told Father, I would have been forgiven.”

“Because you were his greatest weapon.” you concluded.

He hummed in agreement. When a silence fell, you could just sense that there was something he was holding back on saying.

It felt like it was a personal matter he had not spoken off. “Lancelot… not many would have reacted the way you did. The way you defended those women…”

He knew what you were trying to gently inquire about. “When I was around Percival’s age, I was made directly aware of how some abused their authority and strength.”

Your heart sank. “Did they…”

“One tried. I sensed his intent when he lured me into the woods where he then voiced it to me.” he quietly said. “My sword was quicker. I did not give him the chance to get closer to me. He was one of the first that met their end at my blade.”

Slowly you rose from the grass and got closer to him, not really knowing what to say to the memory he just entrusted you with.

He continued, very careful that no one else could hear. “I grew to know that I had to keep them in their place, and when I was put in command I let my opinion on it be known.”

You placed a hand on his arm softly. “Thank you for telling me, it can’t have been easy to do. Now I understand why you are so concerned that something of the sort happened to me.”

He placed a hand over the one you had on his arm. “Can we keep this between us?”

“I won’t tell another soul.” you vowed.

His thumb brushed along yours. “It was many years ago, but I will never forget the fear that went through me. I was fortunate to have my sword with me that day.” A sigh. “This is why I feared I had done an unforgivable thing last night.”

You put his worries to rest, “It was never your intent to hurt me and you haven’t. I’ve always known that you have morals, and I have no doubt that you would never do or allow such a thing.”

He was so relieved to hear you speak of your faith in his character. “Thank you, for saying that.”

You withdrew your hand slowly. “And if I have ever made you uncomfortable, by embracing you for example, I apologize. I will be considerate of -”

He was quick to assure that it had not been the case, catching your hand before it could fully leave him. “I trust you. Do not let what I just spoke of stop you from showing your warmth towards me.” He feared it would make you hold back on showing such familiarity again. “I have gone without it until I met you, now I fear I would mourn it’s absence greatly.”

It was such a sweet thing to hear, so surprisingly lovely that you were a bit stunned, a shy smile danced on your lips. “It’s uhm… I am very glad to hear you say that.”

He let go of your hand, suddenly becoming aware of how he had been absentmindedly playing with your fingers a little. Deeply he inhaled, exhaling an unsteady breath. “I should go and speak to Gawain, hear what plan he has for once we reach Crowgrove.”

Before he walked away, he picked up your jacket from the ground to hand it over and you gave him your sweetest smile while plucking it from his hands. Three full seconds passed before he walked to where Gawain and Percival where seated. You put your jacket back on and walked a bit further along the river with a plan in mind. By practicing on using your heightened sense of smell, you picked up on the sweet scent of flowers. There was just one problem, it came from across the river and you would have to walk over a fallen tree that laid across it. Carefully you climbed up on the thick tree trunk and tried to find the right way to balance your feet on it.

“What are you doing?” Lancelot stopped a few feet away, looking very, very confused. Gawain and Percival stopped beside him, looking rather curious to see what you would do or maybe even waiting to see you fall in the river and ruin your attire.

“Nothing, just let me do this. I’ll come back to this side in a moment.” you waved him away.

He brow arched daringly, you sensed what he would do and quickly moved over the tree before he could try to stop you, he was not fast enough to grab your arm.

“Dammit-” the curse fell out of him and he grimaced at his inability to prevent it, especially around Percival. “Get back here!”

You shouted back whilst slowly walking over the trunk. “Gods! I’m not going to drown in this river, Lancelot! Just wait there, it’s alright.”

“I like her.” Gawain had his arms crossed in front of his chest, highly entertained by the shenanigans.

A frown formed on the Ash Man’s forehead as he looked at the knight, but Percival moved and before the boy could take another step towards that tree trunk he had caught him by the back of his jacket. “Stay.”

With small effort, you reached the other side of the river and turned around with a victorious expression. Gawain looked proud, Percival looked envious and Lancelot was looking at you in a scolding manner. You turned in the direction of that sweet scent and found it’s origin in the form of purple flowers growing onto a rock on the ground. You plucked some, just enough for your purpose, then headed back to the tree trunk to cross the river again.

As expected Lancelot scolded you once reaching the other side of it. “We should not wander off. Must I remind you that the Church is looking for us?”

You ended his lecture by putting one of the flowers into his hand. “I am aware. Now have this.”

He blinked twice, then looked down at the flower in his hand. You did not wait for him to start scolding you again and went over to Percival to give him a flower too.

You hoped it would bring them some happiness in their grief. “A sweet smelling flower for a sweet boy.”

A pink hue came over Percival’s cheeks as he accepted the flower and brought it to his nose.

Lastly, you gave one to Gawain. “For helping us.”

The knight gave a polite bow of the head and took the flower from your hand. “I do not believe I have ever received a flower before. What a sweet lady you are.”

You grinned. “I am honored to be the first.”

Gawain went to his horse and put the flower in the saddlebag for safe-keeping. Percival was still smelling the flower, then stuffed it in the pocket of his jacket. By the time you looked at Lancelot, the flower you had given him was nowhere to be seen. Had he tossed it away for ignoring his scolding? Or did the flower smell bad to his more attuned heightened sense of smell? You walked up to him, reaching him just as he stopped by Goliath.

He was inspecting the saddle. “Gawain believes we will reach Crowgrove by evening. He knows the innkeeper there so we will have a place to sleep for a night.”

You failed to keep the disappointment hidden in your voice, “Did you not like the flower?”

A frown creased his forehead, he moved his cloak a little to the side and there sat the flower safely in the sheath of his short sword. He took it between his fingers.

“I thought-…” you stopped yourself.

He grew curious. “Did you fear I had disposed of it already?”

You had the most guilty expression. “Did you smell it? It has such an intensely sweet scent.”

He could smell them from across the river, but this endearing gesture made him withhold that information this time.

He carefully put the flower in Goliath’s saddle bag. “I have. You were able to detect the scent from across the river? Well done.”

The praise was nice to hear. “It’s still hard to separate all the scents and focus on the ones I wish to focus on.”

“With time, it will grow easier. I promise.” he said. “And to answer your question, yes, I do like the flower.”

He said it with such intonation, as if he just knew that you were waiting to hear his approval of the flower, or at least the gesture of it. You smiled timidly, happy that it had given him some joy during his grieving.

“It’s scent is as sweet as the heart of the one who gave it.” he complimented.

Your eyes slightly widened, did your ears trick you into believing that it was said in a flirtatious manner? A second passed before you regained control over your thoughts.

Gawain called out, “We should get going if we want to reach Crowgrove before the night.”

You stepped away from Lancelot and headed to your horse, unable to shake the feeling that something more than friendship had grown between you. When still living among the paladins, you had once truly believed that your presence around him had made him tempted to sin, he had that look in his eyes even just for the briefest second. Then everything went to shambles and it had been a whirlwind of events since then. His presence was definitely… titillating. But was it worth risking the loss of a friendship? For what? Lust? Curiosity? It was a fragile thing, friendship and trust, so strong yet so easily broken. He was a monk…he was a monk… he was a monk… and you couldn’t forget that. It was a large part of how he became who he was now.

Maybe there was attraction. And maybe you were afraid to expect more, for more was complicated, more could break your heart and it had been broken one too many a times already. To be greedy was to risk it all. Time would tell where this would lead to, all you wished for was that it would not lead you both on separate paths.

    ~~~♡~~~♡~~~♤~~~♡~~~♡~~~

  It was not a moment too soon when you reached the village. The sun had gone down and it felt terribly tempting to shut your eyes by the gentle swaying of the horse’s walk. That tempting feeling was smacked away by Gawain who swatted against your leg to keep you awake, it startled you so much that the small surge of adrenaline kept you awake enough to ride into the village. Percival, who sat with Lancelot on Goliath, had spend a few minutes talking to you to keep you awake. The boy had a way to visually describe how your limbs could look if you fell off of the horse if you fell asleep on it, it was helpful to keep you awake.

Gawain rode closer to Lancelot. “Lancelot, it would be wise to keep your head down and in that hood. I have heard them speak of you here, let us not risk being found.”

He gave a nod. “I’ve been here before. I will remain discreet.”

“Shouldn’t you hide those?” Percival turned a little and pointed right at the markings of the Ash Folk.

“It’s dark now.” Gawain said. “The shadows are our friend and we should leave at dawn to avoid drawing attention.”

“Are you certain it will be safe for him here?” you asked.

“We will keep him safe.” The knight jested, until he saw the serious look on your face. “He will be safe. I promise.”

It had better be true. “Good.”

The knight spoke to Lancelot in a hushed tone. “She is as protective of you, as you are of her.”

Lancelot hid the smile underneath the shadow of his hood. “Ash Folk are rare. We should look after each other.”

Gawain gave a pensive hum and leaded the way to the inn, there weren’t many people still walking around most had gone to bed. The inn was quite large, and beside it was a large stable as well. At Gawain’s request, the horses were brought into the stable.

“Wait here. I’ll go and speak to my friend Samuel, the innkeeper, first.” The knight had said before heading into the inn alone.

A few minutes past before he returned, Gawain stopped beside Percival. “Two rooms, one night and we can have a meal. How do we divide the rooms between us?”

Lancelot was quick to answer. “Percival and her will share a room.”

“Good solution.” Gawain mumbled to him under his breath, sending him a knowing look.

“How so?” you said before putting much thought into it.

Gawain did not hold back on speaking his opinion. “I’ve known Percival for quite some time, Lancelot knows that the boy is safe with me. But he is not sure if he can trust me with you. And neither will he choose to share a room with you alone, it would be bordering on a sin.”

You saw Lancelot grow uncomfortable, especially when the boy looked up at him inquisitively. “The three of us could share a room again. We’ve done so before.”

Gawain pointed out the issue with that. “Somebody would have to sleep on the floor then, the rooms only have two beds each. And I believe we all need our rest.”

“Fine. Percival and I will take the other room for ourselves.” you gave in.

Gawain beckoned for all to follow. “Come. There are not many people in the inn still awake, we can have our meal.”

Lancelot did not seem too happy with what the knight had told you, but you saw no reason for him to be embarrassed. It was thoughtful that he would share a room with someone who was still somewhat of a stranger to you, so you wouldn’t have to.

“Thank you.” you quickly whispered to him as you walked into the inn, and saw Lancelot acknowledge it with a nod.

Gawain wisely chose a table in the corner for all to sit at. The barmaid was at his side almost instantly to ask what he’d like to have, and from the looks of it she was hoping he would choose her. But no, the oblivious knight chose the broth that had been freshly prepared that day. The barmaid turned to leave.

“Could I have some water?” Percival whispered to you, because he didn’t want to let the others find out he was to shy to ask the barmaid himself.

“I’ll ask.” you whispered back, then called out for her, “Ameli-”

Your voice faltered, you dropped your eyes to the table. Amelia… the memory of her dying in your arms in the dark, murdered by those who were send by Aldith. The barmaid had turned to see why someone was calling out the name, Gawain looked at you confused.

Lancelot stepped in, asking Percival, “Was there something you wanted?”

“Water.” the boy admitted after seeing the saddened look in your eyes.

“Some water for the boy.” Lancelot let it be known to Gawain.

The knight called the barmaid, Cecilia, over again and put in his request for water to be brought to the table. She smiled at him and Percival, assuring them she would be right back with some water for all. The moment she returned with the jug of water and tankards, you poured one full for Percival and then for yourself. To wash down that lump that had formed in your throat.

“You alright?” Gawain looked over at you.

You feigned a smile and gave a nod, hoping that was a good enough answer. But alas, the knight was perceptive.

“The eyes never lie, Ash Woman.” the knight said.

You kept the explanation short. “Amelia was the innkeeper that my father’s men killed when they came to capture me in her inn.”

“I am sorry.” He gave a sympathetic look.

“Yeah…” you avoided eye-contact with all and began to eat your broth the second Cecilia placed it on the table.

Gawain fixed his attention on the other two Fey at the table. “Samuel has promised to give me some necessities for the rest of the way to Gramaire.”

“Would he have some ointment for her arm?” Percival suddenly asked.

All looked at the boy, not expecting the considerate question at all. Your spoon had stopped midway to your mouth.

“I will ask.” Gawain said, patting Percival on the shoulder.

You managed to give a genuine small smile to the sweet boy next to you, musing, “What would I do without you?”

Percival looked so happy to be acknowledged in such a way, you took note of it to remind him of his accomplishments more often. You continued to eat your broth and the rest of the table ate mostly in silence. It was palpable that all were tired after traveling all day, and the days had not been easy.

Cecilia brought two bowls with sliced apples to the table, placing one next to Gawain and Lancelot. Gawain put it between Percival and him, while Lancelot put the bowl beside you. You took a slice of apple and took a careful bite, the juice dripped down your mouth a little by biting it and you wiped it away with your finger.

“These are good.” you told Percival and it made the boy taste the apple slices too.

Lancelot had his elbows on the table and you felt his eyes on you, you had nearly finished the slice of apple when he was still looking.

You picked up the bowl with apple slices and offered them to him. “Do you want to taste?”

Taste… his thoughts had wandered too far. He had to reel them in.

He blinked twice rapidly, cleared his throat, his answer came quite delayed. “No, thank you.”

Gawain was watching the interaction with curiosity. Lancelot was not aware of it, but you were. You fixed your eyes on the bowl of apples, trying to ignore the feeling it caused in your chest to have the attention of the heavens in Lancelot’s eyes.

The knight tried not to smile when he took a sip of water, he directed himself to Lancelot. “How did the Abbot come to know of your secret? You were obviously careful to not let it come to light.”

Lancelot tilted his head in your direction, answering in silence. Gawain frowned in confusion.

You narrowed your eyes at him. “What do I have to do with it? I never told the Abbot of what you were.”

Lancelot took a sip of water. “Are you aware that your markings glowed crimson in the forest when you used the Fey Fire to ward me off?”

“I-” you touched your cheek were your mark would be if it was visible.

“And you were sat atop of a horse, where the paladins could see.” he pointed out. “I did tell you once that there were rotten apples among the lot. I believe they told the Abbot.”

You got very quiet. They could have killed him, and it was because they had seen your markings and made the connection.

Gawain shook his head. “Loyalty is a word the paladins do not know of.”

Lancelot noticed your silence, his hand came to rest on your lower arm. “What is it?”

“They could have killed you.” you quietly said. “Because they saw my marks…”

He brushed his hand over your arm, then took a light hold. “You fear I blame you for how the Abbot learned the truth?”

It just didn’t sit well with you, things could have played out very differently. “If you hadn’t left when you did-”

“No.” he shook his head, giving your arm a squeeze. “Everything you did in the forest that day, was justified. If I had not left, if I had not helped Percival, we would not be here like this and my death would have been deserved for what I did.”

Percival was looking at Lancelot’s hand on your arm. You pulled your arm back and put your hands into your lap. Only then did Lancelot’s eyes dart to Gawain very quickly and away again.

Gawain cleared his throat. “Shall I ask for another serving of broth?”

“Yes.” you quickly said.

The knight proceeded to beckon for Cecilia and surprisingly enough charmed her into bringing another serving of broth for all. You were grateful for the distraction it brought.

        After the peaceful meal, a modest sack of needed matters was gifted to the knight by the barmaid, Samuel had kept his word. Then Gawain led the way to the rooms that had been offered. They were a decent size, not small, just right. A small table stood against the wall with a chair, some supplies to write and read. Two comfortable looking small beds and a wardrobe to store some clothing. It was enough to accommodate you for the night. Percival followed you into the room after you both wished the others a good night. The boy chose the bed closest to the wall and let himself drop down on it, arms splayed open like a bird in flight. The bed by the window would be yours for the night, you draped your jacket over the foot of it.

“Percival, no shoes in the beds.” you told him.

The boy got out of the bed. “I’m hungry.”

You swiftly turned. “You just ate…”

He shrugged his shoulders meekly. “Sorry…”

“You could ask Gawain?” you suggested.

“Could you ask?” he winced a little.

It was clear he feared being denied. You gave a nod and steered him with you to the room where Gawain and Lancelot were, knocking on their door twice.

Gawain opened the door, you could see that Lancelot was sitting on one of the beds in the room. “Problems?”

“Yes. Big ones.” you jested. “Our young knight is still hungry.”

Gawain sighed a little, but was understanding. “Still growing. And the war has been the hardest on our young ones. Come, Percival. I will ask Samuel for something to eat.”

The knight stepped outside, closing the door behind him and beckoned for Percival to follow. You returned to your room and took place at the table, putting your satchel down on it and taking out your journal. Carefully you dipped the quill in the ink, then began to write down the events that had transpired again. It felt freeing to write it all down, and you felt a bit more comfortable sharing details at the discretion of the pages. After only a few sentences, you heard the door creak open and abruptly turned to see who it was.

Lancelot slowly wandered into the room, noticing the journal on the table right away. He put down a small bowl, with the top covered in a piece of linen, on the bed, “A salve for your arm, it was in the sack. The barmaid must have overheard Percival speak of it.”

“Oh, that is a welcome help.” It would help with the burning sensation in your arm from the cut. “Are you sure you do not need it for yourself?”

He watched you sit on the chair. “I have some as well. And Gawain spoke of visiting the village’s healer before we leave in the morrow, the knight has many friends it seems.”

It had sounded a bit envious, which you understood. “Well, he is a knight. I do not think he was given that title without helping many people.”

He hummed in agreement. “Sharing your thoughts with the journal I see.” He nodded in it’s direction. “Am I mentioned again?”

“Maybe.” You bit your cheek. “Afraid of what I’ll write?”

“Not afraid, no. Just curious.” He came closer, stopping at your side, watching how you closed the journal a little so he would not see. But when he reached over and slowly moved his fingers along the binding of it, you let him open the journal. He stood so close that his lower arm was a little against you.

“It would be so much simpler, to read your thoughts from these pages instead of your eyes.” he said.

“What’s wrong with my eyes?” you bit back a cheeky smile.

“They are fathomless.” his fingers traced over the page he had laid open.

You tapped on a corner of the journal. “What are you searching for in there?”

He was purposely vague. “Written evidence of a truth I seek.”

“A truth?” your brow arched high.

His voice deepened slightly, “You wrote of me before. Have you done so again?”

Right then it clicked why he was so interested in your journal. The last thing he had previously found that you had written about him was from before you had learned about Father Carden’s order for him to gain your trust. This was what he was referring to.

“Not in the same manner.” you kept your eyes on the page.

He was quiet for a few seconds, his fingers were at the corner of the page. Finally he turned it, still not saying a word. The sudden tension was causing you to be on edge, you felt like you should say something but didn’t know what. His fingers grazed over yours, very much on purpose, and you stood up so quickly from the chair that it had knocked into him a little. That chair was the only thing left standing between you and him, a futile barrier that offered no aid. He proved how pointless the chair’s barrier was by pushing it calmly out of the way and under the table. He held the back of the chair for a moment, needing time to think. Your eyes traveled to the door, he caught it happening.

“Am I making you want to run out?” he kept holding on to the chair, as if it kept him grounded.

“No.” Your heartbeat was in your throat.

He stepped away from the chair and took small steps in your direction, his feet did not stop until they reached you. “I think about last night constantly.”

He could not stop thinking of how you had weathered the storm he had been that night. That gentle tone of your voice had been a layer of salve on the wound that his heart had obtained. How you told him you’d rather bleed before seeing him bleed again. No, it had not left his mind since, and neither had that feeling of having your lips against his own. Every time you spoke to him, he had to focus on keeping his eyes from straying to the curve of your mouth. One taste was all it took for him to be willing to forsake the vow he took. Why would he still uphold a vow to a god who would never accept him? Why not make another vow, of a different sort, one he would uphold and live by, one that did not reward him with absolution in heaven but with meaning in life instead?

You feared he was still worried. “I told you, I forgive you. And I mean that.”

“You have shown your gentle heart to me again today.” he got quieter. “I pray you may forgive me once more.”

“I-…” The power to speak was stolen from you.

He had cradled your head in his hands and stolen a kiss so fast that you had no time to react. For just a moment, you were frozen, it was the warmth of him that thawed you. He was gingerly tasting your lips, letting your breaths turn into one. After a few seconds he leaned back, very little, to see your eyes. You caught the front of his jerkin between your fingers and pulled him into you, claiming his mouth with a certain greed you could not hide. You reciprocated fiercely, it had taken him off-guard how eager your response was. When you could sense that it may have been a bit too much for him, you stopped. His gaze washed over you and with an urgency his lips came to yours once more, this time they were unwilling to let them free again. He was practicing, that was obvious, and gods it was a blessing to be the person who he had decided to do so with. Not a spot of your lips was left unattended to by his. It was so… innocent? So careful and precise that you smiled against him. How could it be that his inexperience only made it more intriguing and alluring? If this was practise, he proved a quick learner. The only thing you did was let out a content hum, that was it, and at the sound of it he deepened the kiss. It just felt incredible and the longing for it was evidently mutual, you did not question it, you feared to question it. He brought an arm around your back, holding you so close that you could feel his chest rise and fall.

Once, he had tasted them, and now he could not stop longing for them. He didn’t know what caused his senses to be so overwhelmed more, the feeling of your lips against his, or the sound of your quiet gasps for air that he greedily stole away to hear it again. His body warmed, the sensation as if he felt every drop of blood move through his veins. Now that he knew what it felt like to kiss you, he knew he would loath the days without it.

You fought yourself constantly, fought the urge to hold him so strongly that he might believe you’d never let him go again, fought the desire to let your tongue meet his, fearing to do something that may be a step too far for him still. But he appeared to throw caution to the wind and took all he could have. The intensity of him increased, his hold on you got stronger and demanding, with his hand on the back of your neck he put you at his mercy. The gasp that forced it’s way out of you made him lock his mouth around your bottom lip. Your hand snaked into his hood, fingertips slowly weaving themselves into his hair.

He always wondered what it would be like to kiss, yet being kissed back so fierce was beyond what his imagination could come up with. If this was what damned his soul, then he would face the gates of hell with a smile. But sharing a kiss with his wife was not a sin, is what he told himself. But in that moment he cared little if the gods would approve of it or not.

It was as if the world had stopped to exist and there was only him. But the world had not truly stopped, it continued around you and time went on, that became clear when you suddenly became aware of the Sky Folk scent present in the room again. You broke free from Lancelot, leaving him in confusion that lasted only seconds. Neither of you had heard the door being opened again.

Percival stood there, scrunching his nose in an expression of disgust. He send an accusing look Lancelot’s way. “What are you doing?”

It was ridiculous how slow your brain worked after that, and Lancelot seemed to struggle with his own as well.

“Did he hurt you?” The boy stepped forward, not certain what he had just witnessed.

“No.” you quickly said.

Percival’s eyes narrowed, suddenly he bolted out of the room. And right away both knew where the boy was heading to. You touched Lancelot’s arm, but he already knew what to do and went after the boy right away. As you stood there, not really knowing what to do, your mind processed what had just transpired. Gawain’s voice could be heard not far away, the rest was mumbling that you weren’t able to understand. Carefully you went and peeked around the corner of the doorway, seeing the three of them talk. Gawain shot you an inquiring look and you looked back with a guilty expression. It put the knight’s mind to rest and he was able to diffuse the situation between Lancelot and Percival. The boy had been worried by what he had seen and went to the knight to see if this was an alarming matter or not. You had to understand that Percival had not known Lancelot for so long, and that before this he was the Weeping Monk. The boy simply thought he could have been hurting you. With feet that felt like lead, you approached them.

“Nothing bad happened. All is well.” you reassured them, not brave enough to make true eye-contact with any of them.

Percival was looking Lancelot up and down, the poor Ash Man looked like he was expecting to be reprimanded and so were you.

“Well then. We should return to our rooms before we wake half the inn from their slumber.” Gawain said sternly.

Lancelot touched Percival’s shoulder, trying to stay calm and collected under the boy’s scrutinizing gaze.

“Come, Percival.” you told the boy, and to your relief he followed you back into the room.

The moment the door fell shut behind you and Percival, the knight turned to Lancelot.

“Should I be concerned?” Gawain asked him as they walked to their shared room.

“No.” Lancelot said.

The knight gave a short hum, biting his tongue to not press for more information, for he believed that even the Ash Man seemed rather lost in thought about the matter.

Taglist:

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[reccyls]

hi!! sorry to ask, but what are mai’s symptoms in mitsuhide’s sequel?? like how would the tragic end play out? thank you!

Hello! Please don't apologize for asking, I'm happy to answer questions! (If I do know the answer, of course). I'll put the details beneath the cut, I've actually finished the tragic end as well

Mai's symptoms here are that she sometimes fades out of existence. She becomes invisible to others, they can't hear her voice, and she passes through the people she touches. It starts off as just a few seconds, brief enough that other people think it's a trick of the light, or maybe they're too exhausted. But eventually it becomes nearly permanent.

There is a way to check for Mai's presence, however: the ringing of a bell. It was something that belonged to her in the modern day, and she gave it to Mitsuhide to repair. When he gives it back to her, it is now something that belongs to both the past and the future, so the universe can't erase it since it "belongs" to the past. Therefore, Mai always brings the bell with her and rings it to make her presence known.

The original speculation regarding the cause of Mai's symptoms were her actions to save Nobunaga from the Honno-ji incident. However, it's later theorized by Sasuke that it's not Mai saving Nobunaga's life that caused the timeline warps: it's actually her saving Mitsuhide. Not just once (he should have died after Honno-ji as well) but twice (during Yoshiaki's trap). Therefore, the guidebook pages going blank (and eventually Mitsuhide's name specifically also disappearing from the guidebook) are the unvierse trying to correct this by causing Mai to disappear, thus making history go back on the right track.

This was said in confidence to Mai. However, Mitsuhide happened to overhear this. Now, Kicho and Motonari haven't been sitting their idly either. So Mitsuhide figures he'll kill two birds with one stone: he leaves the Oda forces and begins raising a third army on his own, to draw strength away from Kicho and Motonari. He is planning to go into battle against the Oda forces and lose, cementing Nobunaga's continued rule, and also dying to erase himself from the timeline to stop Mai's symptoms.

(Note that earlier in the route, Mai had almost run away silently from the Oda to try and avert this: maybe if she wasn't around to influence Nobunaga or Mitsuhide anymore, the symptoms would stop getting worse and Mitsuhide wouldn't be driven to drastic measures to try and stop them. Masamune is the one who catches her and helps to convince her to stay. Masamune is also the one who confronted Mitsuhide after he declared his intention to leave; he calls the two of them "a matched pair" given that their immediate first thought is to do some sort of self-sacrificial stunt to save the other.)

In the tragic ending, Mai figures out Mitsuhide's second aim during a war council with the others. She absolutely does not want Mitsuhide to do this, and so, she silently leaves the war council and decides to go through with her original plan. She writes a farewell letter for everyone and then vanishes without a trace. The letter is discovered the next day by Ranmaru, who realizes what Mai has done and informs the others.

The tragic ending then skips ahead a few months, to a final confrontation between the Oda, and Mitsuhide's rebel army. Mitsuhide is soundly defeated, and he comes face to face with his old comrades for the first time in a long time. However, all Nobunaga does is to give him a letter: the one that Mai wrote before she disappeared.

Here is where I clearly remember the language used in the text, it was that evocative: after reading the letter, Mitsuhide fell to his knees "as if his soul had left his body"; everything he had done, all for nothing because Mai was gone.

As penance for his betrayal, Nobunaga gives Mitsuhide a mission: find Mai. No one believes that she has truly disappeared forever.

The last scene of the tragic end is another timeskip, this time a year or perhaps more later. Mitsuhide is wandering the country, constantly searching for any trace of Mai. Earlier in the route, there was a discussion about how Mitsuhide's life was a road that led to hell. He muses to himself how hoping against hope is a kind of hell in itself, but one that he willingly walks into, because he must believe that Mai still exists, and that he can find her.

And we end with the sound of a ringing bell, carried by the wind. One more chime, this time fainter. Mitsuhide smiles and asks if she is playing tag with him. But regardless, he gets up, and follows the sound, because he would follow her anywhere, even to the depths of hell.

[herpartnerintime]

I’m more convinced than ever on the Safi Theory

I played Double Exposure on Bay AND Bae and took a look at the friendship texts and let’s just say, this only made me more positive of the Safi theory.

So first of all, after you tell Safi about your Bae or Bay choice, you can find her looking at a blue butterfly on her phone. Chloe has always been symbolized by the blue butterfly, Max even uses a blue butterfly for Chloe’s phone photo. Safi is clearly snooping just like Max does. But it goes way deeper. You really have to read the texts on both friendship bae and romantic bae, to first of all pick up on how things went from really good to suddenly, very, very strange very very quickly. It all starts on Valentine’s Day. Let’s start friendship bae. Max is out. She is NOT out with Chloe. She’s alone. Valentine’s Day chocolate is on sale so Max is asking Chloe in texts how much she think she can eat. Chloe realizes the time and says there was an exhibit this week and the tickets were on sale. She was going to take Max as a surprise. She’s disappointed she missed it. That’s when Max says this Well, if you want to go get up in time to get those tickets I can make that happen This is what triggers everything to go wrong. Chloe gets upset, saying she doesn’t need Max to rewind and she’s a big girl and she can live with her mistakes. Max is all like what is that supposed to mean? Chloe’s all like i didn’t mean it like that and Max is all like there’s a place on the coast we used to call home that says otherwise. Chloe then says how many times do I have to tell u that I never asked u make that choice? i never wouldve asked u to do that. I was feeling confused. Chloe gave Max the choice. Why was she saying that? She let Max choose. She didn’t try and force Max to let her die. She told her to choose. She made it clear whatever she decided would be the right choice. It felt crucial to me this was happening in texts and not in person.

Chloe agrees to Max bringing chocolate after the fight.

And remember how I said it’s crucial to keep in mind they weren’t together when this happened? Well… ”Hey, where’d you run off to?” ”my stomach was rumbling and I didn’t want to wake u ”That never stopped u before”

Chloe behaves out of character, leaves to who knows where, and declares maybe she’s turning a new leaf. She says the motel room is on your card and she didn’t want Max to be liable. Max is and Chloe are joking a bit, with Max saying “Chloe I think your phone has been hacked blink twice if you’re in trouble.” They go back and forth and everything is pleasant. Chloe goes to bring Max gooey butter cake and ribs. Max is like Okay I didn’t mean to Wow me that fast. How did you pull those out of your ass immedately? Chloe is like I knew you’d want me to bring you something and I’m very good at google. Max tells Chloe she’s the best and she’s oddly like ‘yeah… I’m really something” And yeah that’s that. The next time Max hears from Chloe, it’s a post card break up.

Again, weird how this happens when they’re apart isn’t it? Now on romantic bae? Max is again up early. They are apart, Max went to a cute coffee shop. She wants to live with Chloe here. Chloe is all like ‘u askin me to move in with u for good? On VALENTNE’S Day? Max is shocked it’s today. She didn’t know. Chloe isn’t sure. She thinks it seems final. It’s a weird reaction, given they already do live together.

Chloe then out of nowhere asks Max if she’d just rewind until she said yes.

Max is shocked. She says she could never and how could you even ask me that? This is time for you all to remember. On Friendship Bae, Max brings up using her powers to get Chloe tickets. Max…or someone impersonating Max… is planting the idea in Chloe’s head Max is still using her powers in such a careless way. This feels very clear to me, as Max says in the game both in her own thoughts and to Safi she has NOT touched her powers since the storm. If Max HAD been been using her powers, or been okay with still using them, Chloe’s feelings wouldn’t have taken her by surprise but it is very clear Max is very blindsided by this, by Chloe questioning her, distrusting her. It’s very clear in her response, how shocked she is, how hurt, that Max has not been using her powers, which again begs the question, who is? Who is causing all this distrust?

On the romantic Bae, just like the friendship Bae, Chloe disappears on Max. Max again comments this isn’t like Chloe not to wake her. Chloe says she is turning a new leaf. The same convo happens basically, Chloe ends up getting Max some food and says I’m really something when Chloe says she’s the best… and then she dips out. Here’s what I want you to focus on. These strange interactions happen when they’re APART.

Or if they happen in person, Max has no memory. The Lis2 photo.

When Max looks at the photo of her and Chloe, she thinks about how she’s happy to remember the photo, but NOT the blow out fight they had afterwards. Why can’t she remember anything about that fight, only the photo itself?

And speaking of photos, how come she looks at the Joyce photo and thinks about how Chloe never looked at her the same upon finding out Joyce died? Chloe knew Joyce died. She gave her the choice, she comforted her with that gentle smile when they left the town. She knew Joyce was gone… Who planted that idea in Max’s head?

Ideas are being planted in both the heads of Max and Chloe, things that aren’t true, but somebody is causing it. Who? Let’s talk about Safi.

Let’s talk about Safi knowing she’s a shapeshifter, knowing we can’t trust her, and knowing things go out of nowhere weird and funky with Max and Chloe, and get a load of this.

Picture it. I’m sitting in President Fayyad’s office on my first day, and in comes this girl in acid wash jeans and a Dolce and Gabanana jacket. She says hi to me like we’ve been best friends for years, reaches over the President’s desk and snags her keys and announces she’s “taking the car and her too.” They then go out and have ice cream together.

Isn’t it interesting Safi acts like they’ve known each other for years right away? Isn’t it strange considering they both have powers? What are the odds? And what are the odds Safi would show up, literally lay eyes on Max and be like let’s go for ice cream??

This entry tells us something too ”When I met Yasmin Fayyad at my show in Boston I had no idea she was the president of a prestigious liberal arts College, she was just some hot older lady who seemed to really want to be my friend.” I think Safi was being her mom here. The wording is to odd, why would she want to be Max’s friend? Yasmin might want Max at Caledon because of her talent, but the wording of really wanting to be my friend sounds more like Safi… Max even thinking Yasmin is hot feels weird, but may make sense if she’s really Safi… Safi needed Max at Caledon. But why?

Now let’s talk about the weird threesome thing, where Chloe shocks Max by suggesting they have a threesome with a guy. She’s joking, but the vibe feels odd. “You’re MINE, bitch!” That does feel like Chloe, but I feel sus of this moment. Every moment has to count of what they include of Max and Chloe in the journal, so WHY THAT? I think that wasn’t Chloe in that moment either. It was Safi. Safi was somehow aware of what Max was, and was lurking, trying to figure out how to get to her, get her away from Chloe. On Bay, Max is alone and isolated. On Bae, she’s not alone. That’s a problem. A big problem. Safi would have to get to know her prey, slowly and surely. Chloe would be a threat, a threat that needed to be taken care of the way Safi knows how. But Safi didn’t know about Max’s powers! And why would you trust Safi, after what she did to Gwen? After what she did to Robbie? Her desire for revenge on Lucas was justified, but the way she went about it revealed a dark side. She was willing to hurt a child she had even babysat and been close too, willing to hurt him to hurt Lucas. She was willing to frame Gwen. And let’s talk about the storm. Let’s ask why Max killed Safi. We never found out why, since Max refused to do it, but a Max out there was willing to do it. Why? If this theory is true.. it is not hard to guess why Max may have killed her… did a Max realize her plan? What was the third timeline in the polaroids Max can find? Let’s think about how Safi… she seems remorseful one moment for the hurt she’s caused, then she’s speaking of how she and Max could be gods. Her masks slips, and she reveals what she truly wants. Her and Max. Side by side. What she wanted all along? Whatever Max decides, Safi leaves. And a Chloe text comes… one that feels oddly out of character in that Chloe should be way more worried, but a text I question, was that Chloe? Or Safi? The game isn’t over yet, is it? For Safi, it’s only just beginning.

Wake Up Neo - She’s been possibly Photo Resetting Max

We haven’t talked about another very crucial detail yet. Max keeps waking up… Before you choose Bay or Bae, Max wakes up literally.

The same way she wakes up when she alters a photo and her present changes and adjusts. Well, well, well. Would you look at that. Safi snoops in Max’s wallet…. and suddenly… Max wakes up. Did you catch that little detail? It’s all I’ve been able to think about.

Safi looks in Max’s wallet. Sees the Lis2 photo. Max wakes up.

We don’t know… Safi’s power, what happens when she shifts into someone with powers? Can she use them? Did Safi focus her way into the photo as Max, cause a fight, which is why Max can’t remember, then the past was altered and Max’s present altered. Is THAT why Max wakes up before THAT choice? You may ask what this means for the Bay ending, but there’s many possibilities. With the future having two timelines and a third timeline, time is getting all messy even before Max in the game officially experiences it herself.

I still have so many questions. I don’t know if I’m right. But something in me tells me this break up was not what it appears. I even wonder if there was a time loop happening, over and over, with each new loop Safi managed to erase away more of Max and Chloe’s past until only one photo remained on Bae? Or is that the result of Safi as Max altering Max’s past with her photos over and over? With it likely Bay and Bae either merged with Dead and Alive timelines or will merge soon, time could be messy and disjointed as well. Safi has been messing with time a LOT which could explain the storm.

Max wakes up a few more times like this, suggesting more of her photos are being altered. Safi is trying to force Max to move on from Chloe.

I know a lot of fans in their hurt and anger over the break up may dismiss this. I’ve been feeling a lot like Alderman as I feel like I’m losing my mind as everyone denies what I see in front of my very eyes. If they wanted to break the girls up, they could have made the journals and texts totally different, but they made them as strange as possible, they truly made it feel like Max and Chloe were being impersonated at different points, all with the goal of isolating Max and getting her alone at Caledon, with Safi ready to be Max’s ‘new’ bestie.

You know, on both friendship and romantic bae, it’s also clear they’re in love. They still sleep in bed together and they still are in love, perhaps the only difference is they didn’t get around to saying it until Safi came along… I don’t know what the future holds for Lis given recent news regarding the DE team, I don’t know if the next game was already in development and on the way or not or what happens next. But I will see the truth. I won’t let the hurt blind me. Playing as Max again felt so good, and I felt like I saw so many clues. Safi quotes Chloe… she knows so much about them both, even if she pretends she doesn’t. I think Safi wanted the storm. I know she’s up to something. She wants Max.

In both Bay and Bae, Max can find the polaroid where ‘Safi’ breaks up with Chloe as Max.. some truth coming out in the dream? Something tells me… Rihanna’s new lead role… Chloe has a lot to discover. I think she’s going to realize what happened first. And Chloe may meet up with Steph and Alex. And Alex may be the only one with the powers to stop her…

I even wonder at times if Caledon is even real. But an illusion itself, which I wonder from the music itself… sometimes I hear notes of the lis1 nightmare playing in Caledon… Is any of this real? I don’t know. I just know there’s a lot of odd things that placed together, feels sus!

Safi even writes in text just like Chloe, not capitals and she always spelling you as ‘u’ like Chloe. It’s like she’s trying to play the role of Max’s bestie… Studying Max, it makes sense she’d want to emulate the girl Max loves…

Maybe I believe this theory so hard because it has to be. My biggest fear is if this theory is wrong, I don’t want next game to fully canonize their relationship fell apart, as the idea of them canonizing that but them ‘getting back together’ upsets me as I want no part in the way their relationship was portrayed. This theory, or some kind of supernatural explanation, could save it for me. But I don’t know. I hope so badly I am right… all we really have to go on is a few tiny journal entries, texts, and a letter. But there are clues within those.

People are either accepting the break up as being done because they ‘hate Max or Chloe’ or accepting the break up because ‘not all relationships work out or last forever’ but very few are questioning the things that don’t add up or feel sus, like again Friendship Bae Max offering to use her powers for tickets, while she says and thinks in game she hasn’t used her powers since the storm and they shouldn’t be used carelessly, suggesting she was being impersonated in that moment. With a shape shifter running around, I question everything. I can’t accept anything at face value. Both Max and Chloe can come off as being impersonated, if you pay attention to the clues and context…

[eventheodds]

The gamut of emotions she is experiencing are similar to when she first set out on her field assignment with Roberto. It feels like ages since that day, running into Vash when he’d been hanging upside down, courtesy of bandits, but memorable enough that she can clearly picture every moment from that day with the utmost clarity.

There are…others, as well, that come to mind, but Meryl does her best to focus on the positives.

She barely registers Knives’s warning about bringing a flashlight and with as many spare batteries as she can carry—and the very obvious threat of not wandering off where humans have seldom gone; if they’ve even gone there before.

Her experience being underground, even inside a giant worm, still counts and is not something she wants to repeat. Under any circumstance.

The reality of what they’re about to do makes her halt in her tracks as she composes herself, nearly forgetting the company she is with, and those memories make her snap to when she remembers that long tendril whip made of sharp blades that could have easily turned her into ribbons. 

“O-of course! I’ll keep it to myself!”

Not that she has anyone to talk to. The Bernardelli news agency has been feeling a little hostile towards her lately and Meryl is being careful where she treads. There’s been things going on that don’t quite add up—not like they are supposed to, and she’s being careful where she digs.

At the mention of Nicholas’s moniker, Meryl stops in her tracks like she’s been hit with a compulsion to remain frozen in place. 

They had said their goodbyes when it was decided that Home would be where they would part ways. 

“I…I don’t know where he is, actually. So, there’s really no point.”

Meryl grits her teeth at the slight tremble in her voice—not because she misses the Undertaker—well…that’s not entirely true but she refuses to admit it—but it is more so of the fact that she doesn’t have anyone she can really talk to. Vash can’t be found; Roberto is dead; Nicholas is…well, she doesn’t know where he is and she’s not about to start looking.

However, that doesn’t mean she’s about to let go of him entirely.

“I’ll need about a day to figure out how I’m gonna pack what I need,” she says, relieved that he’s not demanding they depart right away. It would make sense for him to find someone to look after the farm while he’s gone. “Well, I better get started…”

She gives one last look towards Knives, like she’s waiting for him to change his mind; when it’s clear he is not going to, Meryl books it and the first place she goes to is the nearest saloon. Out of breath, she reaches the counter, she procures a piece of paper from her notebook and a pen that can barely write but this may be its last note it will ever write before the ink completely dries out.

Despite the urgency, Meryl is careful to write clearly, and to not give too much information away. If there is one person who should know about her whereabouts, it has to be Nicholas.

To Nicholas,

Travelling far on the other side, with sharp company. Safe and doing okay. Can’t call you, no signal down here. Haven’t stopped looking. Hope you haven’t, either.

-Meryl Stryfe

She signals for the barkeep and hands him the note and gives a description of what Nicholas looks like. If he’s not changed since, she’ll expect he’s still carrying around that giant cross and looking as disheveled as ever.

Before she knows it, she’s meeting Knives back at the designated spot, a pack ready of what she considers essential to bring, and feels more nervous than excited at this point. 

“Just promise me there won’t be any need to get swallowed up by a giant worm. I’ve already done that and am not a fan. Not a fan at all.”

"Home won't be much use. I said no one's seen them in a century, didn't I?" And the fleet had, of course, been rather busy trying to save themselves. None of the surviving ships would have had anywhere near the time to grab coordinates for the other falling ships when they barely managed to save themselves. And then they'd had to rebuild and survival was more important than looking for lost ships where none had survived.

"If you want coordinates you're gonna need a bug." That is how Knives knew where they were, after all. He considers, contemplates who would care for the farm if he left it behind. Someone in town, if given instructions... Another moment of thought, before Knives sighs. "We'll leave after I arrange someone to care for the farm." He's put a lot of work into this place, he isn't going to leave it to die without some sort of supervision. "I suggest getting yourself a working flashlight and as many batteries as you can shove into your pack." A mental apology to Zazie, who was definitely going to complain at him, later.

"You will not discuss our travel methods with anyone else." It's not a request, an edge of danger curling around the words in a way that's been absent in their conversations so far. "I won't have your kind invading down there."

If he's honest she's probably going to want to pack for a fairly long trip. The lack of a road beneath the sands means no truck, and Knives is already making a mental map of the tunnels he knows and where each of them may pass towns they can resupply at. The trouble, he figures, is going to be once they pass the invisible boundary of human settlement into the true wilds where no humans have set up camp. There won't be any towns to resupply out there, and they can only carry so much at once...

He glances down at his hands, frowning. How much can he create, if he regulates properly? Would it be worth it when they could find a way to carry more supplies? Perhaps Zazie–but no, he doesn't want to make Zazie play pack bug either. Knives drags a dirty hand through his hair, scowling as he watches the reporter stumble around like a newborn tomas just finding its legs. She looks ridiculous–maybe that's what Vash sees.

"This isn't going to be a short trip so you better say your farewells to Punisher before you go."

[miwtual]

reblog for a wider sample size and don't forget to click for palestine!

[icewindandboringhorror]

Little bright colored outfit with a fun vest ~

(shoes from ebay like 10 years ago. everything else is thrifted)

[megamindsupremacy]

I need to marinate more thoughts for this but. okay so gravity falls au. partially inspired by this. fiddleford has the memory gun and he's This Close to using it on himself to erase what he saw in the portal. he pauses. he thinks, just because I forget doesn't mean stanford will stop building the portal. he thinks it's all or nothing. he goes to stanford's shack in the woods. he sneaks in through the side door and sees stanford sleeping on the couch. it's dark outside. the lights are out. fiddleford can barely make out the shape of his former-friend's body. fiddleford looks at Stanford one last time. he types into the memory gun, Stanford Pines. he points the gun. half a second before he fires, Stanford stirs, as if sensing the danger he is in. he manages to get out "who-" before fiddleford, panicking, pulls the trigger before he can chicken out completely.

stanley wakes up on a couch he doesn't remember falling asleep in, with a terrified looking man standing over him, holding a glowing gun, and thinks this is one hell of a situation i've gotten myself into

[emdotcom]

My brain is so full of Bees about Post-Shift 2.

It's a fan game that was delayed for 4 years -- by the time it released, fnaf fangames as a whole were not as popular as they had been, & most people in the scene had forgotten about Post-Shift 1, so not a lot of people heard about it/played it.

Worse still is the people who did talk about the game. Pretty unanimously, the consensus was this: this game is the craziest, most insane fnaf fangame. It's overly difficult with mechanics that have no rhyme or reason to them & tutorials that are wordy, unhelpful, & sometimes actively mislead the player, meaning you need to comb through a lot of text only to be misinformed. It's not as infamous as some other fangames, but it definitely was talked about very poorly.

In general, I think most of these criticisms were blown up out of proportion, but I can't really disagree with most people's problems -- it is difficult & wordy, & rather hard to understand. I think, however, that the game is still 1. Really fun, 2. Not a bad game at all, &, most importantly, 3. Is a free fucking game that was clearly a passion project. Most damn fangames never get off the fucking ground when made in groups because the creators will never make a red cent off the thing -- this game was made by one dude for 4 years & delivered to people for free. It didn't ask anything of you except to accept it as a difficult game & to not go in with wild expectations. The dev just wanted to make a game that was rough, but he also wanted to make a game that felt unique & was fun. & It is fun, too, is the damn thing.