#which is why i said she learns on her own

[chronicowboy]

i can't see you (the light is in my face) | 15.6k (E)

"What are we drinking today?" Eddie asks as he carries the teapot over to the kitchen table from the counter. He sets it down on the woven grass placemat in the centre of the table and slides into the seat opposite his abuela.

"Blue tea," she says, pushing her teacup towards him.

"And why do they call it that?" He raises an eyebrow at her before picking the teapot back up again to pour her some. He flushes when it comes out a dazzling blue. Abuela just rolls her eyes at him, a glint of amusement sparkling there.

"Rosa from book club gave me some," she tells him, lifting her cup and inhaling some of its steam. "She said it's made from butterfly pea flowers, so it tastes very floral."

Eddie pours himself a cup, watches the blue pool against the white porcelain and thinks of Buck. They'd talked briefly on the drive between the station and his abuela's. But Buck had been late for lunch with Bobby, and Eddie had let him go even though he'd wanted to sink his nails into the phantom of Buck's voice.

"Oh, hey, wait there." Eddie drifts back to the kitchen counter and picks a lemon from the fruit bowl. He slices it into wedges and takes two of them with him back to the table. "Buck told me about this stuff. I think he tried every tea under the sun after his coma. Did a bunch of research on all the different health benefits of them. I'll have to ask him for recommendations." He drops back into his seat and sets a wedge of lemon onto Abuela's saucer. "Says a chemical in the lemon is supposed to..." He squeezes the juice into his tea and grins as it begins to react. "Ah! Purple tea!" He tilts his cup just enough for Abuela to catch a glimpse of it.

"Oh!" She clasps her hands together, eyes lighting up, before reaching for her own wedge of lemon.

Eddie watches her stir the purple into her blue tea with a childlike glee, lets his own frivolous joy spread through him like hot tea. Accepts it for what it is. Little blessings, his abuela used to say. Life is full of little blessings. And Eddie is learning to welcome them without guilt. He pulls his phone out under the table and taps out a quick text:

Having blue tea with Abuela. Your lemon trick worked! But now she thinks you're a witch that's corrupted me with the dark arts :/

"Eddito?" Abuela pokes him in the shoulder with her teaspoon, and Eddie slips his phone back into his pocket like he's been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "Do you like it?"

"Oh, um." He picks his cup up for the first time, convinces himself it's just the rising steam that has a flush bleeding through his cheeks as he takes a sip. He wrinkles his nose. "It's... Very blue?"

"Mm." She nods, tight-lipped. "Not the best we've had. But the lemon definitely made it better."

"And some honey might make it tolerable," Eddie says as he plucks the jar from the small tea caddy against the wall. His phone buzzes in his pocket, and he pulls it out greedily as he stirs the honey into his tea.

eddie tell her that blue tea helps heart and brain health and that the lemon boosts your immune system so if i am a witch i'm at least a nice holistic witch

tell her eddie tell her

:(

"Who is that?" Abuela asks, raising an eyebrow at his phone.

"Just Buck."

But she'll just think you've bewitched me into saying it. Which you basically did.

"Ah, Buck," she says sagely.

are you calling me bewitching diaz?

i might have gone with beguiling but whatever

Eddie snorts, tucks his phone under his thigh and takes another sip of his tea.

"It's definitely better with the honey," he says. Abuela just stares at him, her head cocked slightly to the left the way it is whenever she's stuck on a sudoku puzzle. "What?"

"Nothing." She shrugs. "How is Buck?"

(OR: eddie makes a new friend, she makes some assumptions, eddie spirals about it in his patented life-ruining way)

[burningcheese-merchant]

PLEASE MERCHANT LISTEN TO ME

I started watching Burning Spice Cookie's flashback in the game and suddenly I started thinking "is that all? How stupid" because there are characters older than him and who apparently haven't had this problem of "boredom from "same old thing" so he leaves the Burning Spice Cookie thing as childish. but then I started thinking, what if I developed this? You see, if a person doesn't have a proper childhood they can develop psychopathic traits (more or less what I've seen in Burning Spice Cookie) so what if he and the other Beasts didn't have childhoods? We are not given any clue that they have grown, which gives us to understand that they appeared among the common cookies as adults.

Imagine that you barely have time to know your own name and suddenly you are thrown into... (I don't know, a battle?) expecting you to help calm everything down. What if, as soon as Burning Spice Cookie was born, he began to be burdened with many responsibilities and having to fight to unify Beast-Yeast into one nation? It would be a good reason why he "got bored" with everything, since some psychopaths have that trait of enjoying causing harm or hating monotony and social rules (it could also be an explanation for your au's Burning Spice Cookie).

I am SO glad someone else sees the problem with Burning Spice's "boredom". We have a million immortal characters in this universe and not a single one has had this issue with their lives. The Ancients live forever thanks to the Soul Jam, and they don't seem bothered by it at all (hell, look at Golden Cheese. She is actively pursuing immortality, for herself and especially for her loved ones). The Elementals are immortal, and they have zero complaints about it. Millennial Tree and Sugar Swan are older than the world itself, do you see them crying about it? Nope. They live and carry out their duties happily. You don't even see this with the ones that actually WERE mortal once. Fire Spirit? He loves who he is now, he's said so out loud in cutscenes in Ovenbreak. Sherbet? Though he misses being with Cotton, he otherwise loves being free to travel and see the world almost entirely unburdened, the way he always dreamed. Frost Queen? She adopted her role and upholds the balance of nature with grace. Life and immortality are only what YOU make of them. The Beasts are a bunch of stupid, selfish babies. The end.

"Not having a childhood" IS an interesting point to raise, though. You're absolutely right: having a tumultuous youth can and often does lead to psychological issues of all kinds, big and small ask me how I know lol. And for all we really know, they WERE born adults right from the jump. How Cookies are born and how they age are SUPER weird in this series and neither is ever explained properly besides "baked in oven", so... What's keeping anyone from imagining characters just born fully grown right away?

With this in mind, and with the points you've raised, we can maybe look at the Beasts like this: people who were brought into the world without being asked (although no one is), and burdened with nigh-impossible responsibility right away. Immediately told to sacrifice themselves for people they do not know or care about, who do not know them or care about them. To uphold a balance they may not understand, nor did they create themselves. Never having been allowed the chance to live and grow as all sapient beings are entitled to; to go out and have fun and be foolish and make mistakes that they end up learning from. They were born abnormal, and they never never allowed to escape that abnormality once. They live only for others, never for themselves, not even for small things. One has to wonder if they even counted as people at all in the eyes of those they fought for, or if they were just archetypes whose faces and actions were used to placate and justify whatever anyone wanted them to.

... Yeah, that sounds pretty shitty when you put it that way lol. It just goes to show how the Ancients are the true rightful owners of the Soul Jam, in my opinion. They EARNED that power, it was not given to them on a silver platter. They were able to live life as regular mortals for a while, then actively sought out that power and proved themselves worthy of it. Hollyberry united an entire region of warring houses. Dark Cacao tamed dragons and brought peace to a long-devastated land. Pure Vanilla endured the many arduous trials of the Sugar-Free Road in pursuit of truth and enlightenment. These are all things that require hard work, dedication, humility, and a certain wisdom that you gain from experiencing life in general. Wisdom that the Beasts may or may not have possessed, because they may or may not have ever been able to attain it in the first place.

As for my Yandere AU Spice... Yandere Spice is well and truly a psychopath (all the Yandere Beasts are). It's the thing you see often with actual stalkers: he's more in love with the IDEA of Golden Cheese than the woman herself, as she actually exists. It's all about what HE wants, what HE needs, what HE expects from her. Pure, utter selfishness, projection and delusion, as psychopaths are fundamentally incapable of empathizing with others (that's what marks them as psychopaths in the first place). With the Accidental Yandere Golden Cheese one, he's the same, but A) leaning a bit more into his bloodlust/enjoyment of harming others (which is also common in psychopaths, like you said), and B) him actually being clever/manipulative enough (at least to some degree) to know how to play into Golden's wants and feed her ego in order to sway her (Golden in this AU is also just kind of a fucked up person on her own, independent of Spice, so it's an unlucky combination). She's not "boring" like everything and everyone else is. She captivates him, she surprises him, she keeps him on his toes. He "loves" her. Therefore, he owns her and vice versa, and he will do whatever it takes to have her all to himself, up to and including hurting and killing innocents (it's not like they mattered, anyway). What caused him to be this way ultimately does not matter; maybe it's that overwhelming burden of responsibility and lack of a choice or a chance to live life that we addressed earlier. Perhaps he was just born broken. Whatever it is, he's a bloodthirsty, selfish, uncaring monster and it is Golden Cheese that he has chosen to make pay for it, unfortunately.

TL;DR Not liking immortality is a skill issue. The Beasts are dumb little crybabies. Yandere Spice is disgusting and should face a wall. I like writing deranged people far too much. I enjoy engaging in meaningful conversation with others about things. Thank you for the ask, I vibe with your thoughts and ideas, I hope you find lots of money on the ground today

[everlastingdreams]

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

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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

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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.

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[d1ana-m0nd]

╭─► ❝Rogue Maiden❞

One Piece! Various × Female! Reader || Written by Diana (d1ana-m0nd)

➢ Description : The fourth maiden is often underestimated by her peers, hidden behind a veil of secrecy and countless masks. Raised in a world with psychological danger, she learned to shield herself from attachment and harm. With an uncanny ability to read between the lines and always on guard, her true strength lies in what she conceals.

➢ Link : Masterlist

Character Profile┊A bud adorned by thorns

The Pastiche Island is an island filled with prideful - though they prefer being described as ambitious - women. Women who are skilled with their respective crafts like: exploration, literature, mathematics, science, philosophy, politics, and all forms of art. If you were not skilled in any of the aforementioned subjects, you were deemed useless as a woman and as a human being. Knowledge and skill are the sign of prestige and perfection to everyone on this island; Which is why young girls are rushed into perfection, fearing they would be rejected by society.

Though a former Whitebeard pirate was against this, she turned to you with a grouch as she rambled on and on about how you should not take part in the upcoming screening test. To her, you were but a child, she has yet to discover you possess qualities that were beyond a child's capabilities.

“I'm telling you kid, that test will just make you feel miserable!” The blue-green haired woman insisted as she hastily chopped the vegetables for the stew, “You're still eight years old, you have four more years till the actual test-”

Abruptly, you spoke up, tilting your head at your adoptive mother. "Are you just saying that just because you don't want me to go through the same thing you went through?”

Astrid, the former whitebeard pirate, stopped midway through dicing vegetables just to glare down at you for well… being you. In her eyes, you were just a smart and arrogant child, she was well aware of what you were capable of. However, she knew the maidens better than your child mind could comprehend. They were nothing like the average girl, there is a reason why they have a league of their own even at the ripe age of 12 years old.

"I'm not you, so I won't fail the test.”

The older woman gritted her teeth as a tick mark appeared on her forehead with a smile whose corner's were twitching from irritation. Astrid had to hold back colorful words knowing you were just a blunt brat that did not have a filter. Despite the words coming from someone so small, your words left a bigger impact than the cannons she used to wield back in her pirating days.

The blue-green haired woman set her kitchen knife aside and massaged her temples, "Even if you did take the test, what would you gain? The future is uncertain, don't take any stupid risks-”

You looked up at her with a heavily blank stare that took her mother aback, her usual brash self silenced a mere stare that said ‘Are you for real? ’. The sweet situational irony that these words were uttered by a former pirate who are commonly associated with words like ‘stupid’.

"Oi, oi, oi, you cheeky little runt! Don't try to turn the tables on me.” The older woman barked but you were not fazed by it.

“My past experience has nothing to do with you-"

“Then, why can't I take the test?" You countered with a question, trying to understand her mother's words, because throughout the whole conversation her mother never gave her a proper answer.

Astrid swallowed hard as she simultaneously hardened her glare towards her child, “You just can't! I know taking the test is tempting, and it can be helpful for your future but, the people upstairs are a real piece of work. Even if you did good you'd just-”

"Then watch me, you won't know till we see the results.” You casually quipped.

Your adoptive mother found herself taken aback once again, in awe of her child's boldness. In spite of the fact that you had monochromacy, you would think the child would have a limited view on the world but she didn't let that hinder her potential. She shone brightly no matter how limited her view on the world was.

Admittedly, Astrid was envious of her child's confidence yet, she could not help but doubt your capabilities. She knew it was normal for kids your age to be boastful and overconfident but, she knew for a fact that you are not like other kids, she has witnessed it firsthand. However, that tinge of doubt lingered at the back of her mind and she could not help but feel guilty for this.

Since that day, Astrid was adamant from keeping you to take the test, she did her best to dissuade you but, she was failing to do so as you were just listening to her as her words came out from ear to another. When the day came, you went to the screening test behind your adoptive mother's back. As the day came, you were skimming through the test with ease yet, it took you a while to finish thus leading you to be the last person to finish.

The moment you walked out the test room, you met your adoptive mother at the lobby, who fell asleep with your lunch cradled in her arms. You sat by your sleeping mother's figure, as you did your best to take away the lunch from her without waking her up. In doing so, you were eating your lunch in peace which caught a certain silver haired woman's attention who was passing by the hallway.

As dinner came around, you and your siblings assisted your mother in preparing dinner for everyone in the orphanage. In doing so your mother began distributing a meal for each child. When it was your turn, your mother gave you your meal for the night then, smacked the back of your head and proceeded to feed the next child.

Your older sister, Nana, merely snorted and wore a cheeky smile as she realized the predicament you were in. “Someone's in trouble~", as her narrow eyes and bangs framed her teasing look.

“Oh please, the old hag is just being dramatic", You scowled as you played with your meal.

Just in cue, the said ‘old hag’ slammed the table with her open palmed hands, making the other kids jump in their seats, whilst you maintain a poker look.

“Don't ‘old hag’ me, you little prick! I swear if you fail that test, don't come crying to me because I already warned you but your stubborn arse refused to listen." She placed her hands on her waist.

"Not like I was planning to, you have a lot on your plate.” The child's response elicited anger from her mother only to be interrupted by Nana’s statement, "You should go feed Vicktor and Belaine, They might get hungry from crying.”

The older woman clicked her tongue, fury still evident on her features, then angrily stomped away, leaving you and Nana by yourselves once again.

The pink-haired girl sat next to you as she looked down at you with a small smile, "You know you could just tell her you're taking the test to help her and the orphanage.”

“She'll just get insecure again and feel like she's a terrible mother," You bluntly remarked. When in reality, you didn't know how to express your gratitude.

Nana cooed as she teasingly twirled her pointer finger, “Aww~ Y/N’s too shy to tell mama that she wants to help around~"

To which you happily struck the back of your sister's head with an empty steel plate.

In the first faction, a quartz building that towered over the capitol. Its sides and the cracks are gilded with gold and black, mostly the white quartz outshining the city, the colors were loud and extravagant yet, the designs were simply designed. The same colors that were used dominated the first faction’s architecture style. In contrast to this, the people who walked upon the streets of the first faction wore elaborate, posh, and colorful clothing, akin to how peafowls strut their feathers to attract the opposite sex. But, these people dress to flaunt their wealth, practically screaming ‘I’m far more worth stealing from.’

The building that towered over the capital, it is where the same silver-haired woman from before is visiting. At the moment, the mysterious woman entered Lady Rosaceae Lilith's office to visit the fellow maiden

Lotus Yīng-qǐ whistled as she peeked over Lilith's shoulder, “Wow, that kid seems like a suitable apprentice. Are you taking her in?”

"I'll consider it for now, I need to evaluate her further though.” The beautifully ebony woman with long white dreadlocks with pink ends, whilst gold accessories were attached to her hair. “The proctor noted that she was the last kid to finish in every test. In addition, based on her medical papers, she's too weak to be a maiden.”

Yīng-qǐ raised her brow at this statement, to which the woman with white dreadlocks corrected, “Physically weak I mean. For a bud, she's nearing her blooming stage, despite only being eight years old. There are still some thorns here and there but, I can work with her.”

In spite of her harsh criticism of you, Lilith's smirk is not erased. Not because she was looking down on you but because she could not help the anticipation and excitement building within her. Seeing someone with your capabilities was rare.

Your test scores:

Exploration: 78/100

Literature: 93/100

Mathematics: 80/100

Science: 92/100

Philosophy: 94/100

History: 90/100

Politics: 75/100

Art: 98/100

Athleticism: 49/100

The silver-haired woman thoughtlessly nodded along, as she took away the other papers that mindlessly sat on top of Lady Lilith's desk. “This Emilia girl,” She murmured in awe, “It looks like she's a good candidate."

“Just good but not perfect." Lilith sighed as she played with the gold accessories in her dreadlocks.

Yīng-qǐ adjusted her glasses feeling a bit awkward, the other maiden changed the subject instead. “So, why'd you make Y/N take 9 different tests while Emilia took 4 different tests?”

"Just to check the legitimacy,” The long white haired woman in dreadlocks hummed casually, as she took the papers back from her fellow maiden. "Y/N is from the 4th faction after all, the education system there isn't on par compared to my faction yet, she kept passing. In the academics department of course.”

“As for Emilia, I didn't need to check on her much. She's from the 1st Faction so I expected as much from my own people to do well, just disappointed that her scores weren't higher than that child from the 4th faction."

The silver-haired maiden bit her inner cheek to prevent herself from pissing off the other maiden and to point out her biases. Jokingly, Yīng-qǐ wore a small smile as she adjusted her round glasses then remarked, “You could just say that you were paid off by Emilia's parents to not delve further."

“Oh please," Lilith let out a scoff as she threw a subtle glare at Yīng-qǐ, “I don't need money to know that my own people are smart, they are my people after all, it's only expected they do well.”

The Rouge Maiden's Character Profile:

Weapons:

Chained blades - A whip made of blades.

Parasol-Gun - A parasol with a gun and shield hybrid feature.

Gun - An extra gun with sea prism stone bullets

Abilities:

Masking - An ability to copy people’s combat style and mimic their personality or energy.

The Bloody Maiden’s Abilities:

Hemokinesis / Blood Manipulation - Constructing objects by shaping and solidifying it.

Serenade of Life - Enhancing the maiden's strongest points (For instance, Kudapal Y/N’s speed and accuracy)

Bloodlust - User's senses are heightened, especially when it comes to the person's sense of smell. They can also consume blood in order to recover from their injuries.

Crimson Edge - A sharp object becomes sharper when the maiden infuses their blood with the object.

Blood Art: Alla Prima - A special move made by Kudapal Y/N, wherein its a series of randomized attacks mixed with haki, masking (fighting styles she has acquired), and her original fighting style. The special move goes on till she runs out of blood.

Bloodbath - The user uses their blood splatter or blobs to stop in mid air then explode when the user gives the signal.

Scarlet Piercer - A regular bullet that's enhanced by the maiden's blood, it can only be used twice. The bullet is sharper than a regular bullet.

The Maidens of Pastiche Island are:

Kadupul, Y/N - 4th Faction, The Maiden of Artistry

Appearance - (insert your appearance)

Lotus, Yīng-qǐ - 3rd Faction, The Maiden of Philosophy and Politics

Appearance - A woman with narrow eyes, silver hair with side swept bangs and the tail of her hair settling on her left shoulder.

Ringelblume, Emilia - 2nd Faction, The Maiden of Mathematics and Science

Appearance - Tanned skinned girl, orange hair with yellow roots, half twin buns and half down.

Rosaceae, Lilith - 1st Faction, The Maiden of Exploration and Literature

Appearance - Ebony skinned woman, long white hair in dreadlocks with gold accessories attached to it and pink gradient along the ends.

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[anthurak]

So ever since Mastermind, I’ve been seeing the expected number of ‘What if Lucifer or Charlie was present at the trial?’ fics/headcanons positing that either of their presence would have had them speak out on Blitzo’s and/or Stolas’ behalf and led to the PERFECT ending where the evil schemes of Andy-the-not-actually-a-sister-fucker are foiled and both Blitzo and Stolas are acquitted and it’s all sunshine and rainbows and puppies for everyone (except those evil rich people (except the ones we like)). And like, that’s all well and good…

But let’s be real. Even with a deck not massively stacked against them, or even stacked in their favor, both Blitzo and/or Stolas could ABSOLUTELY still find a way to fuck things up for themselves. I mean we’re talking about one guy who opened his defense with “Those orphans were already sick!” and “But when is attempting a crime a crime?”, and the other guy for whom ‘throwing my life away in a big dramatic heroic sacrifice for the man I love’ was Plan A.

And I just think that sounds way more fun and interesting then Lucifer or Charlie being some author-insert to serve as a secret cheat-code for the Golden Happy Ending for the episode.

Sure, Lucifer or Charlie being present almost certainly means things would go better for Blitzo, Stolas and co. regardless, but again I feel like it’s just way more interesting and fun and honestly in-character for these two gay idiots to still find a way to fuck things up for themselves.

Like imagine if Lucifer wants to hear Blitzo out at the critical vote, not so much because he really gives a fuck, but more because he’s bored and is also just messing with Satan.

And throughout the rest of the trial Lucifer is mostly just dicking around being a bored little gremlin. With the his only real contribution being to veto outright executing Blitzo, and even then that’s only thanks to Blitzo mentioning that Loona is his daughter. Sure, he may barely give a fuck at this point, but having a man killed in front of his own daughter? That’s pretty fucked up, don’t you think?

Which probably leads to some petty bickering between Lucifer and Satan about why they can’t just send Loona out of the room and THEN kill Blitzo, which then probably escalates/tangents to some ‘petty, jilted ex’s’-esque arguing that may or may not have some of the other Sins piping in for shits and giggles that is really only stopped when Stolas bursts in with his big ‘dramatic, gay heroic sacrifice via song-number’ gambit.

And Lucifer is in fact totally okay with Stolas getting stripped of his power and position, because hey he did a whole song number for it, but he draws the line at Stolas getting separated from his daughter. Also Andrealphus doesn’t get to be regent of Stolas’s position because Lucifer doesn’t like him for extremely petty reasons.

Meanwhile, I feel like Charlie sitting in for her dad probably wouldn’t turn out much better.

Sure, Charlie would want to hear Blitzo out, and ABSOLUTELY give a fuck about his situation. But let’s not forget that this is BLITZO we’re talking about, and giving him a chance to talk is ALSO giving him a chance to dig himself into a deeper hole.

For example; what do think Charlie’s reaction is going to be to learning what Blitzo and co. were actually DOING with that grimoire they got from Stolas?

You know, the princess of Hell who’s trying to deal with the sinner-overpopulation problem learning that these imps are likely contributing to said overpopulation problem? As well as the whole ‘murder business’ thing.

Which would likely put Blitzo in the awkward and hilarious position of probably having to argue AGAINST the person arguing for his life because that person ALSO wants to shut down his business.

And of course because this is Blitzo we’re talking about, there is a VERY good chance he just makes a total ass of himself or at the very least puts his foot in his mouth in epic fashion.

And if she’s present, I can imagine Vaggie at some point is leaning over to quietly ask Charlie if they really NEED to be defending this guy?

Maybe this eventually leads to Blitzo, or Stolas or perhaps Moxxie making some big, dramatic, emotional, heartfelt plea, possibly in musical form, for them to be allowed to continue their wholesome family business… of murdering people.

And maybe that does in fact sway Charlie. Or at least tugs on her heartstrings enough to forget about the whole ‘murdering business’ thing long enough to argue for Blitzo’s life without pushing to shut down I.M.P.

Which is exactly when, again, Stolas chooses to burst in with his big self-sacrificial song number and make things even worse/wackier.

All in all, as much as people may love their ‘here’s how we could/should have gotten a perfect happy ending!’ author-tracts, I think this option is way more in-character, interesting and most importantly fun XD

[inksandpensblog]

Someone in my ao3 comments expressed frustration over Victim's backstory being similar enough to King's to make the episode predictable.

The thing is, I agree, I don't think I was surprised about anywhere this episode went...but it doesn't bother me at all, and now I'm curious as to why.

Maybe it's because, despite predicting where the episode would go, how it got there was still a surprise to me. Maybe it's because having an underlying understanding of what kind of story I was watching play out meant I was able to catch more details, since I wasn't thinking so much about what might happen next; I could think more about the why since I already had a pretty good idea of the what. Maybe it's because the story was doing multiple things at once and wasn't being carried solely by this one predictable plotline.

I think my reaction to the party-disappearance scene is my best example of this. Plot-wise, I knew what was about to happen as soon as the split-second flashes of fire and chaos began cutting into the dance scene: we were about to watch Mitsi die in Chosen's and Dark's attack. But then Mitsi disappeared from the dance floor in a shower of green sparks, and that got my attention, because it meant worldbuilding was happening. And if there's one thing I've learned about writing from Arcane, it's that if you have to give straightforward exposition then having it pull double-duty as worldbuilding is the best way to integrate it into the story.

I already knew Mitsi was about to die, and I already knew it was about to be because of Chosen and Dark. That didn't surprise me.

What surprised me was that sticks who were physically nowhere near the location where the attack was taking place were still affected by it.

What surprised me was the reveal that sticks in this stick-world could be affected by something happening to the website on which their source-files were hosted, and that their existence wasn't entirely separate.

What surprised me was learning that the statements "Chosen and Dark never attacked stick-cities, only websites" and "residents of stick-cities were victims in the attacks, and fear Chosen and Dark" could both be true.

What surprised me was green sparks.

The main plot thread may have been predictable, but a lot of other things in this episode were either new or were finally connected for the first time, and that might've been enough to keep the story from feeling like just a rehash of King's, at least to me.

There's also Mitsi herself to consider. Unlike the previous two backstory-deaths in this series, Mitsi's character is also pulling double-duty by serving a second purpose as Vicitm's foil. She's functionally more than just someone who dies to make Victim sad and evil; she sees the world in a fundamentally different way than Victim does, and this contrast is demonstrated by how her responses to the world differ from Victim's. We see who Victim was before her, we see who he becomes with her in his life, and we see who he becomes in her absence.

I think someone somewhere suggested that Mitsi is who Victim could've been if he wasn't tormented his entire life, and I see their point, but in that light I also find it meaningful that Mitsi isn't just "Victim but without the trauma" personality-wise; she has her own charming disposition and mannerisms that seem to be an innate part of her character rather than just another sign of innocence. Sure, some of her behaviors are ones I could see Victim having in a story where things went differently (and in fact some of them I had imagined Victim having, in the years between when The Showdown aired and when Wanted was uploaded), but not all of them, and I appreciate that.

I think there's also something to be said about how differently King's and Victim's grief manifests despite all its similarities, a la "grief drives King to act while Victim is held back by it," but I'm running out of words.

My point is, yes it's a plotline we've already seen in this series, yes it's being reused, yes it makes the story predictable in some ways...but I think the way it's being applied and explored and executed is different enough from the last time that it doesn't feel like "the same story" is being told again.

[a-sketchy]

oh come on, where’s my option to join forces and two team them? or cheer her on from the sidelines even. chie can wreck shit actually i don’t want to deny her that

[termagax]

u know at the beginning i kind of thought kfp4 was gonna do something with shifus whole. deal. but they didnt like at all which is a shame

[things-methinks]

Talking to [leftist/socialist/progressive/whatever] white people as a brown girl is always an experience

[swordmaid]

for me… FOR ME..!!! and for shri’iia specifically the lock in for astarion’s romance is his graveyard scene in act 3.

i think it is too quick for shri’iia to be moving on to another relationship considering her previous one was with her mistress who essentially groomed and isolated her for like … more than hundred years. learning to chase her own desires and not moulding herself to what anyone wants her to be is something so new to her…!!! and something that she’s still learning how to be comfortable with….

and what I like abt romancing astarion with her is that I usually go for the dialogue path in his act 2 confession scene where you can ask him:

- what do YOU want to do?

and he goes like honestly idk what we’re doing but /this/ is nice. it just feels like two people exploring the option to love for the first time and taking things in their own pace rather than jumping straight into the relationship. they’re going at a snails pace… they don’t know what they’re doing but they like this feeling and the vibe and they want to more of it but they’re not ready to commit to anything yet and it’s fine for them …!! and they’re only committing by the end in the graveyard scene where significant time has passed and they’ve learnt a little more about themselves and they’re both more confident about their own desires and also how they want to be loved.

like it is so fitting I think… and sweet… not to mention astarion being a high elf & a vampire and shri’iia being a drow, they have all the time of the world for themselves so I def think they would want to take their time. except if shri’iia turns into a mindflayer or drider by the end then that plan is out the window lol

[rearranging-deck-chairs]

hang on are cougars like panthers

[red-dyed-sarumane]

kyuuyakus so good not only bc its like the only song heavy enough i can tolerate at loud volumes that can Almost drown out my coworker who never shuts up but ALSO for the points ive said 74times & will continue to,

aru sekai shoushitsu set us up for something super sci-fi, which. yes. the series very much is. but it was so technical and almost coldly indifferent. and then we're given the whole "old testament" in the title & the whole intro reading that isnt far from dantes inferno type content as my good friend emimin pointed out. we've got this new aspect added in and at the same time the lyrics let you know this character's still dealing with the complex technical stuff, from the terms down to the second kanji in ashita being incomplete as though because of a program error or interruption or some other similar reason.

and it feels even more different because theres just so much emotion in this one compared to shoushitsu. all the "bye-bye"s written in ways that express deep pain, the fact that the "see you tomorrow"s are cut off in the way they are the first time, and so drawn out the second time. the genre's not the spacey, distant trance type that shoushitsu is; its heavy, its intense, its got as much to it musically as there are details in the story. it's not just to sound cool, it's getting her state of mind across just as much as the spoken words. the world's being destroyed physically & metaphorically, everyone's suffered this over and over, they've parted ways so many times and its just never something they can get used to, especially not if they want to keep trying to end this whole loop, she's stressed past imagination trying to keep everything in check when its just not possible, & the intensity of the music just emphasizes all of that. there's less intense parts too, sort of like a forced focus on what she's doing that all too quickly builds to a panic. or the in the second part where everything gets so dire, the bell's tolling and she's running out of time, the piano over top of it giving such an uneasy feeling, and then right back to that heavy panic. theres so much emotional charge in it you know the long notes aren't just magu having fun with it; you just know they're meant as screams. i dont even think i can say screams for help, i think she knows shes past the point of help or at least that she's supposed to be everyone else's source of help that it's just stressed lamentation. she's doing everything she possibly can and its not working so all thats left is to cry out about it.

and then u have the rute furute wo a motif in here that's added in under the "fractal wa/kurikaeshita" parts that really hits harder now with kannagi for extra context. knowing that this is in the past & can't be changed and everyone else is using this as a point of reference. then u of course have the nami no ne wo motif, & the longest & clearest instance of it aside from maybe oumen mokushiroku so u know she's herself & gets to live, gets to keep doing this & watching other people die. (although i have absolutely no frame of reference for how long she lives given this is a past event & she doesn't seem to be present in the more current time songs. we dont really have that context yet) & then we're back to the rute motif on top of what still sounds like a jumble of nothing. but i also thought the rute line was nothing and here its a big deal so i cant wait to realize what this other jumble is, considering its also under the last ima kizanda parts.

theres just so so much to it, so many little intricacies that build such a full picture from whats otherwise one of the more simple series songs & i cant love it more.

[inbabylontheywept]

bad dating stories time: the shoe incident

so in highschool, my best friend wasnt allowed to go on dates unless there was another couple there to keep an eye on him. part of this was his parents being insane, but also, part of it was him being insane. in a problem with no reasonable parties, there are no reasonable solutions.

at some point in my junior year, my sorta-gf broke up with me, and i just wasnt feeling dating, which was bad for my friend, because he had a good thing going with a girl he met in court.

he kind of hounded me about it. kept pushing me to just put me feet back in the dating pool and i wasnt real thrilled about it, because i knew he was pushing me for his own benefit, not mine, so i kept telling him to fuck off, and after a few weeks of being told that i would date when i was damn well ready, he eventually said: okay. what if i paid for the date AND found you a blind date AND all you had to do was show up?

and i shouldve said no, i know, but i let him wear me down, and i will own my fault in that. a date starting on such a stupid premise could never have gone well.

but he still managed to find a way to make it worse.

i dont know how long he tried to set a blind date up. it couldve been multiple attempts. he couldve stooped to this immediately. but what happened in the end was that he called a girl from the ward he attended - a girl that he knew had a giant, mushy crush on him - and he said: hey! how would you feel about going on a date this weekend?

(you know, implying it was with him, but never actually saying it.)

and she said YES WOW I WOULD LOVE TO and he said great! and then he called me up and said he found me a date.

i did not learn about his crimes until several weeks later. i will die swearing before god almighty that i would never have allowed this travesty to happen if i had known.

that was on a monday. the date of the date rolled around that friday evening, and im sorry to confess, i really phoned the whole thing in. i showed up in my favorite comfy outfit, which was also a fashion crime: basketball shorts and flipflops and a baja hoodie. it was super comfy but it made me look kind of crazy. i picked him up first, and then i picked up his date next, and then we went to pick up my date, and thats where you're gonna get the play by play.

i arrived, walked across the yard, and knocked on the front door. she opened it almost immediately, like shed been waiting right by it, and i could see her expression go from OMG IM SO EXCITED to super disappointed, then disgusted and finally pissed. and because i didn't know about my friends sins, i thought it was from my outfit. which seemed... harsh. like, hey, im allowed to be quirky, fuck you. also its a blind date, i thought the deal was that we were both going to be sad broken sacks of mortality.

anyway, we looked at each other for several seconds before she slammed the door in my face.

i looked back at my friend. he was sweating bullets. i dont know what he expected from this, but there was this big long pause where we both tried to figure out what to do, and then the door opened up, and her dad invited me in, and he said she was gonna need a few minutes to finish getting ready, and that in the meantime we could sit and talk.

we did not talk. we did sit. i sat down on the couch, and he sat down in a chair across the couch, and then instead of talking he cleaned his pistol on the coffee table. i wasnt actually sure if it was a threat, or if it was just a fidget thing for 40+ year old republican men, but when i tried to help he got snappy so i just watched him put a pistol back together.

he was okay at it.

eventually my date came downstairs, still mad as hell for reasons beyond my ken, and i felt pretty guilty for being such a mess because i thought that was why she was so angry. i tried to make up for by walking her to the car and getting the door for her, just generally trying to be extra polite, but before i could make it back to the drivers side, her dad called me back to the door. so i flipped around, went to the door, and immediately regreted my decision.

soon as i was within range, her dad got waaaay too close to me, leaned in, and said "whatever you do to her, i will do to you," and my brain went into overdrive making three consecutive realizations.

realization one was, damn, the pistol thing was a threat. that sucks. what an asshole. realization two was, wait, im autistic and even i know theres a 0% chance me and my date even hold hands, least of all boink. does this guy actually think there's even a 1% chance of anyone in that car getting laid tonight? is he an idiot? and then realization three went through, which was wait, is this guy threatening to fuck me? and unfortunately, with my brain doing so much processing, my mouth was left to run amok, so somewhere between realization 2 and 3, i said:

"i can't get pregnant"

which, i swear, wasn't actually me trying to be a smartass, it was just me pointing out that he couldn't actually follow up on that threat. it just wasn't possible. we do not live in the omegaverse and im not scared of you.

still, it was an insanely catastrophic thing to say, and the moment we both heard it, we bluescreened. that single sentence obliterated both of our momentary streams of consciousness like a saltine in front of a sand blaster. problem was, he'd probably gone his whole life not even realizing someone could say something that stupid, and making that realization was going to cost him a lot of thinking time. me though? i had been saying shit like that for 17 years, i didnt have to rewrite my expectations of human nature, i just had to plan an exit and start striding. so i was already halfway back to the car before i heard "hey. hey come back. Hey. Hey. HEY. HEY WAIT. HEY GET BACK HERE. HEY-"

and then i was in my car, and i drove away.

if this happened today, he'd have called her, and the whole thing wouldve imploded then and there, but back then, there were still a decent number of teenagers without cell phones. especially the teenagers of insane, gun toting parents. so she just said: whoa what was that all about? and i said: dont worry about it, he'll tell you about it when you get home.

and she said: ok and went back to staring daggers at me and my friend.

WHICH SURPRISINGLY isnt even how the story ends.

we went to an improv comedy show, and it was a disaster. it shouldve been like, 7/10 tops, but between my date being mad, and my friend having a good time, and me having the existential terror of knowing that a guy with a pistol was probably waiting outside his house for me to come back, it was easily 11/10. i laughed way too hard at everything. especially the jokes that flopped. id sit there in this mostly silent room and laugh until i dry heaved a little, and my date was absolutely disgusted, and even my friend was a little embarrassed, which would just make me laugh harder. i laughed so hard that night i could barely talk the next day. and then the show ended, and my friend said, you know, that was a good time, but i think we should maybe do something a little chiller? who wants to walk around the park? and his date said yeah, and my date said no, and i finally had mercy on the poor woman so i said, look, im gonna drop you off. and i am so, so sorry about this, but im dropping you off like a block away. super duper sorry.

do talk to your dad about the pistols thing if you dont want this happening more in the future tho.

and she said: okay. so i dropped her off, and she walked a block down, and that was that.

then i drove my friend and his date to a park that was good for wandering. i figured they wanted something more private, so instead of following them around point blank, i chose a park with this 30 foot rope tower, and i climbed to the top and i said: hey i can see you anywhere from up here, you are officially chaperoned from a distance. get panopticoned idiot. except my friend really is an idiot, and he didnt really get the whole 'now i dont have to third wheel so insanely hard with you guys' thing so he climbed up the tower too, and then his date followed behind him, so there are three people basically sitting together on top of a telephone pole.

and then they started making out.

i was close enough to hear it.

i didnt really know what to do so i was just kind of sitting there, dissociating, when some college kids came around and started shaking the tower. my friend's date went aaaaaaaaaa im afraid of heights :( and my friend went oh, dont worry, ill hold you tight ;) and i went hey, im gonna climb down and ask them to stop.

so i did climb down, and i did ask them to stop, and they flipped me off, which i wasnt even mad about. at that point i was i was like yeah, it would be weirder if this wasnt a mess. gods plan has been to fly this day like a 747 into my metaphorical twin towers and brother he is close enough for me to see him grinning through the cockpit window. still, eventually the college students got bored, so they climbed up the tower, which gave my friend and his date a window to climb down, and together we walked back to my car.

now, i cant explain why this is, but sitting back in the drivers seat was my carriage-back-into-a-pumpkin moment. i'd been chill about all the chaos, just rolling with the punches, but sitting down made me realize how much of a shitshow the day had been, and while i couldnt go back and fix all of it, i could go back and fix one thing.

so i told my friend and his date, hey, you two, stay here and don't do anything weird. don't. then i walked back to the rope tower, and i started picking up the shoes the college students had left at the base in order to climb.

about halfway through this, i realized that if i took all their shoes, they might think i was in it for the money, and i actually wanted them to know i was in it specifically to spite them. fuck those guys. so i put all the right shoes back, gave myself a 100 foot headstart, yelled "nice shoes, assholes", did a little jig, and started running.

my advice to everyone is that college students are faster than you think. even with the headstart, and the whole climb down the tower thing, i was still only fivish seconds ahead of them by the time i got to my car. i flung the door open, looked in the backseat, didnt see anyone, flung the stolen shoes in the backseat, heard two "ow"s, took that as proof of presence, jumped in and pealed out of the lot.

my friend and his date popped up a few seconds later. they were, uh, doing something weird in the back seat. my one request - obliterated.

they climbed up to ask where the hell all the shoes had come from, and i was like yeah i stole them from the college students, and they were like oh. cool. hope you had fun. and i was like, i did. i did. but speaking of fun, what were you doing back there?

and for the first time in my buddies life, i think he was actually embarassed.

[foldingfittedsheets]

Did you know guinea pigs are born just like. Tiny adults? They’re fully cooked. They come out, eyes open, fully furred, ready to do the whole array of guinea pig activities.

I learned this as a child. I was perhaps ten when this story took place. Our female guinea pig was pregnant, but she’d gotten mites and needed a bath. She was wildly pregnant. Bulging at the seams with babies. Ready to burst at any moment because all the babies needed to stay in there long enough to be full pigs. But we wanted to avoid the babies all getting mites and needing baths. We failed, they all needed baths. Mites are a bitch.

We knew she had three babies cooking in there. How did we know? We could feel each individual bulge in her belly. My mom was overseeing the pig bath but I was pretty much just doing my own thing, scrubbing her gently, rinsing the soap carefully.

After the bath our mother pig was not in the best mood. I was carrying her back to her freshly made mite free bedding when she’d had enough.

I was acutely aware that I was holding four lives in my childish grip, and I bore her along as if she were made of precious jewels and spun glass. Balanced in my hands I could feel the bulge of each of her babies slithering wetly around under her skin.

Which is why when she hauled off and sank her teeth into the meat of my hand I didn’t flinch. I didn’t drop her. I bore her as carefully and steadily as if I weren’t now bleeding freely, and I set her gently into her pig palace.

As I drew my hands away I screamed:

“FUCK!!!”

I then turned to look at my mother, who’d been watching the process intently.

I was fully aware that I had just done the worst possible swear directly in front of an authority figure and was very probably going to be punished. My mom was looking at me with a blank expression that I was waiting to turn stormy or disappointed.

“That must have hurt a lot,” was all she said.

She helped me throughly clean and bandage the bite. All the babies were born healthy and sound, looking like someone had used a shrink ray on trio of a guinea pigs.

Years later my mother confided in me that contrary to my belief that she’d be angry for swearing what she’d felt for me in that moment was overwhelming pride that in the face of pain and shock I had refused to let harm befall my little charges.

[eolande]

back in the day i would think about like. before tenanye and daimon got together/ how they fell in love was thru "Sparring".... after the first time tenanye killed daimon (ashe at the time) it kind of gave her a rush and was one of the things that made her want to start staying.... and so she would go back to kill him over and over and have fun fighting him (solo, no pawns, altho the first few times eolande and a pawn named carrencia were there actually, but she abandoned eolande quickly and carrencia later, i have always wanted to make a carrencia expy lol) but this is literally how they bonded and got to know each other.... just tenanye getting stronger and stronger and feeling the rush of the each time they would fight.... i think daimon would come to see it that way too bc it'd be obvious pretty quickly to him that she didn't care abt the cycle and felt at home on the isle.... i think they'd both be able to intuit that there had Almost Always been MORE to their bond than just the sparring (mainly fostered thru their shared connection/affinity for bbi as a Location and hatred for the cycle).... it's also fun to think of sexual tension developing thru their sparring LOL

[dare-to-dm]

As I said before, I grew up watching the Olympics with my mother.

And there was one year when I was pretty young that we had a conversation while watching that has always stuck with me (I think it was the '96 games in Atlanta, during which I was 7).

We were also following along with the medal counts in school and celebrating all of America's wins as a class, which felt very fun and patriotic. So I noticed in contrast that my mom would often cheer for other teams and get excited when people from different countries won. And I asked her why.

She said something along the lines of "Of course it's exciting when your own team wins. But the American athletes have a lot of advantages. And I like to cheer for the underdog too."

It was clear that I didn't understand what she meant by advantages, so she asked me why I thought the Americans won so many medals. I answered something like "Because they are the best? Or maybe because they work the hardest?"

She replied "It's important for you to understand that everyone who makes it to the Olympics is very talented and works very hard. They deserve to be celebrated. But most of the athletes from America have more time and money to spend on things like the best equipment and the best training. Many of the other countries that get a lot of medals are like this too. They do the best they can to make the games fair, but that doesn't mean everyone has the same opportunities. So it's even more impressive in some ways when someone who doesn't have those advantages wins."

Looking back on this, I take away 2 major things. One is that my mom did a great job teaching me about privilege before we developed the current language we have for those ideas. And the other is that I really appreciate all the situations she used as learning opportunities for me and never talked down to me even when I was very young. The fact that it stuck just proves the value of those conversations. You're never too young to learn!