Just Had An Idea For A Weeping Monk Kinktober Fic Called Came A Lot. If U Need Me I'm Edging The Weeping

Thanks for the tag @lancedoncrimsonwings! (I won't ask why you're awake if you don't ask me back) e I'm too lazy to tag anyone, so do whoever want to participate, be my guest.

These are the results and honestly? Hell yeah, i agree. Bat, under boobs tattoo and Pedro Pascal? I have no complaints here. I just got lost in hobbies because the photo has a camera, eyeliner (which I considered makeup), a book, a sketchbook, a bag - then I remembered that I'm a multitasker. Which just fits perfectly.

PINTEREST TAG GAME!

First pin that shows up on your Pinterest when you search: animal, hobby, tattoo, and celebrity crush

Thank you for the tags my lovely @grinningkatz , @lord-aldhelm and @thenameswinter99!

Okay I love 3/4 of these 🤣🤣 But Harry Collett? Yeah, when hell freezes over, honey @grinningkatz 🤣🤣

No pressure tags: @lancedoncrimsonwings @book-and-music-lover @errruvande @waterfallsilverberrywrites @bilbotargaryen @persephones-journey @whitedarkmoonflower

@paula-in-dreamland @kingslionheart @fabiochampioraro @ripmyfictionalfriends @corktheauthor @redacted-thething @thelettersfromnoone

oooooh I didn’t know you were a tattoo artist that’s so neat! Can I ask to see what kinda stuff you draw? :o

I am indeed! Fully fledged for 3 years now.

My "day job" is tattoos;

But I'm also a traditional artist and do Pet Portrait commissions as well.

I also make chainmail and other things, but that's more of a hobby!

I may be pausing the tattooing to go to Uni as I never went, (instead I did 2x 2 year college courses - Art&Design and Fashion respectively - whilst I began an Apprenticeship!) but if my health can take it I hope to find a studio willing to take me part time whilst I study, or just make some money on pet portraits and chainmail. I intend to build a website too at some point but have been too stressed to try and get it sorted whoops ahaha.

Thanks for the ask! It was fun to ramble about my art!

Unfortunately this is a rant because I don't have anyone to turn to when this happens.

My mother is not a crazy woman or often abusive, she's controlling but nothing much futher beyond that, but some times she has crises and it's always with me.

I always keep my bedroom door closed for my own safety, because I don't feel safe enough in my own home to keep it open. This wouldn't be a problem if my mother didn't blow up at me. She often yells and bangs on the door really hard when she's mad at me, and that's a huge problem.

Today she needed my documents to register for something, I listened to her the first few times, but I tried to ignore her so she would go away. She didn't leave. She banged harder on the door and screamed louder, and yelled threats at me. Saying he was going to break down the door and hit me.

I tried to ignore it again, but the screaming and banging were so loud that I cowered in my bed and covered my ears with my hands. I literally shook and cried with fear. I was so scared that I couldn't get out of bed to get the damn documents.

I contacted my friend so that I would have someone with me and know what happened to me if the worst case scenario happened. I really panicked, to the point of wanting to talk to God or the gods, but then I remembered that I didn't worship the gods and that I had angry towards Christian god. Nothing really big, but it's a moral of mine that I shouldn't benefit or contact god or gods only when it suits me. So I felt trapped in my own hole.

At some point I managed to gather enough strength to go to the drawer and get the documents to slip them under the door. It was torture. I was breathing heavily and panting with tears streaming down my face and my body was very weak. I had to crawl all the way to the end to pass the documents. My room is not big, less than ten square meters probably. That's how much fear affected me. Fear of my own mother.

I've stopped shaking and crying, I'm no longer in a state of panic, but my mind is still stuck in a state of alert. Every time I hear footsteps coming from the stairs I freeze, thinking it might be my mother and that I'll be greeted with more screams and threats. My heart is still tight and every movement I hear it leaves me on full alert, especially her voice.

Her voice makes me panic and want to cry again. It doesn't matter if it's directed at me or not.

Do you have any idea what it's like for a person to fear their own mother's voice? The person who should love and protect them, leaves them trembling and cowering, afraid of just her signal. As if the just air she breathed were thorns in your lungs... This is worrying. And what's more worrying is knowing that you don't have anyone in your family or outside to trust to be with you at these times. Because that role should belong to your mother. But she failed to fulfill the minimum of that role.

I wish this was just another whump in disguise, but no, this is a real occurrence of mine.

12/26/2024

Please check out the rules before beginning to complete the prompts!

Continuing on if you have lmao

Maylancholy Prompts 2025:

May 1. "Don't leave me here."

May 2. Major character death

May 3. Shattered trust

May 4. Bleeding out

May 5. "I can't feel my hands."

May 6. Buried alive

May 7. Feverish and delusional

May 8. Shackled

May 9. Wrong place, wrong time

May 10. "You don’t remember me, do you?"

May 11. Cursed to suffer

May 12. Dragged back

May 13. Choking on blood

May 14. Paranoia setting in

May 15. "Please, just kill me."

May 16. Held at knifepoint

May 17. Left behind

May 18. Possessed

May 19. "I swear it wasn't me."

May 20. Overworked and collapsing

May 21. Stabbed in the back

May 22. Trapped with them

May 23. No way out

May 24. "You were never supposed to find out."

May 25. Drugged and defenseless

May 26. Branding iron

May 27. Forced into silence

May 28. Tied to the altar

May 29. Haunting whispers

May 30. "This isn't real."

May 31. Escape... or not?

Alternative Prompts (If any daily prompt doesn’t take your fancy feel free to replace it with one of these!):

Alt 1. Crawling to safety

Alt 2. No anesthesia

Alt 3. Drenched in something awful

Alt 4. The sound of chains

Alt 5. Shoved into a tight space

Alt 6. A wound that won’t heal

Alt 7. Gasping for breath

Alt 8. Marked for death

Alt 9. Waking up somewhere unfamiliar

Alt 10. "It’s already too late."

just had an idea for a weeping monk kinktober fic called came a lot. if u need me i'm edging the weeping monk

I did dance headcanon and i am absolutely happy about it.

Yes you didn't read wrong. I was peacefully doing a ballerina drawn during one of my classes, and i remember that ballet dance was patented by the french. More specifically Louis XIV. And it's okay that ballet actually originated in Italy, but I'll politely leave that in the corner. With all due respect.

there is the unfinished drawning if you're interested:

Now, who else is french? Exacly. Lancelot du Lac. But i didn't wanted to do a cultural dance for Lancelot and the Ashfolk and leave Gawain, Squirrel, Pym, Nimue and the Skyfolk aside. They're a big, dysfunctional, but happy, family. So i decided to make a cultural dance for both of them and i'm going to explain why in this post. Which probably will be quite long.

The ashfolk and Ballet.

As i have said before, i know that ballet is not originally french, but italic. If you didn't know about this before, yes, ballet origins are italic. The dance came to France when Catherine de Medici married whit the King Henry II of France. but it was only patented by Louis XIV, the Sun King, years later, and it became popular among high society.

And i do know france have a lot more of cultural dances like: Cancan, quadrilha, gavotte, minuet and more. But reading each of them to try to fit it and not be stuck in the stereotype, i realized that, no, none of them actually mached whit Lancelot personality. And not just Lancelot. His family was incribably cristhian in the legends, and strict too, so the other dances didn't fit what i was looking for. So that's why i chosed ballet as the ashfolk cultural dance.

Lancelot/The Ashfolk and Ballet.

Now, when i talk about Lancelot in the weeping monk adaptation, the first thinga that came to my mind are his past abuse and his melancholy. Obviously how absolutely pretty he is too, but that's not the point. And whit the past abuse and scenes like: When Carden slaps him in the face because he asked for mercy for Squirrel; We see how he is constantly expected and forced to be rigid and up to standard one hundred percent of the time. Which, depending on which perid we see, matches whit how ballerinas were treated.

Most people from outside see the ballet houses - As we call from where i'm from - by the pictures and shows, but also by those overexaggerated pictures from internet where we see the ballerinas's foot and bodys badly hurted by the sneakers and the injuries caused. And a lot of people believe that ballet is like dance moms, I don't know if that's the correct name of the show, but that actually doesn't happen. I'm not saying it never happens, but it's not how you see or think. It's not just delicacy and elegance, but it's also not just demands and frequent pressure. As a former child dancer, I know that there is a lot of pressure on dancers, even children, and depending on which house you're from, you can end up having an abusive house where you are excessively demanded and overstandard.

Having explained that. Ballet is an elegant and graceful dance, but it takes time, strength and a lot of dedication. And of course, with many expectations about perfection and rigid routines and trains. Which matches Lancelot's personality perfectly. "Perfect" steps with elegance and lots of training and effort. The difference is that if Lancelot had had a ballet house, he would have ended up in an abusive one with obvious problems but which no one dares to comment on.

Lancelot doesn't talk much in the show or in the legends, and the ballet is not a play with words, but rather one where a story is told through music and movement, which is perfect for our darling who barely speaks.

Ballerinas at first don't wear pointe shoes, their feet were flat on the floor like in any other dance, but over time it was added to make the ballerinas look bigger and elegant, and Lancelot also fits into this, along with most French people.

Ballerinas' bodies are thin and yet very strong, and by the looks of Lancelot's as well. You can't look at my face and say that that man eats three meals a day healthily, that's a lie that not even the devil can forgive.

Ballet is known mainly for its elegant jumps, endless pirouettes and, as my little sister calls it and I think it's incredibly cute, "kicks in the air" - which would be the splits and opening the legs in pirouettes. Lancelot has a similar fighting style, with lots of kicks, somersaults and spins. What I particularly like to think of as an adaptation of his cultural dance to a fight. so he has at least something from home nearby every day, even if not in the best way.

Ballet pieces were formerly known for paying homage to Greek myths, love, nature and life. Which refers to the fey nature and how Lancelot became known for his love for Guinevere in the legends.

Everything mentioned is a way of explaining why Lancelot suits ballet better than the other dances I studied, even if I tried to avoid stating the obvious.

The ashfolk and ballet culture

Now listen to me carefully. Yes, bale is a very delicate dance that needs rehearsals and that wouldn't make sense in something like: Simple dance at a cultural celebration because the music was nice. But this can get solved.

For this type of occasion, I like to think that the relaxed ballet dance on lighter cultural occasions where they simply want to dance, could be in the style of Marianela Nuñez's dance in Don Quixote in 2013 in the first act, just more relaxed and with more improvised movements.

Their clothes would also be less elegant and more focused on comfort due to heightened senses. And of course, because they have a type of connection with fire, the clothes would be vibrant and with more handmade details attached to the clothes.

But when it was for the plays and presentatios they would use what we usually see in the ballet shows, but more adapted to their time and conditions.

Lancelot and ballet presentations i see him doing

Lancelot in the weeping monk have this melancholy attached to him. When you talk about the weeping monk the fist thing you'll say about him is: "He's depressed." And there is just so much presentations knowed for their melancholy and saddnes and death as their signature mark too! The most famous is Swan Lake, but i can also see him doing ballet plays like: Giselle, Sylvia and The Corsair, etc.

He would totaly do the black swan and you won't convince me the contrary; The act two of Giselle is totally him; I won't mention Corsair and Sylvia cause i cannot put into words what i'm feeling about both plays righ now, i'm still in the overcoming phase, but if you waavth it you'll get what i'm saying.

Scene time!

Squirrel was eagerly telling Lancelot about the cholheita ritual they would do next spring, telling him every detail about their dance and how Nimue, Pym and Gawain were excited about it and how incredible they would look prancing the gods in their traditional clothes.

The little one spoke like a rattlesnake without stopping to breathe, and Lancelot, as always, listened to everything without any problems with the one-sided conversation. At one point in the conversation, Squirrel changes the topic to how he would love to see other spring celebrations and other people's dances. And then came the inevitable question:

"Hey, what's your cultural dance? Do you dance?" Squirrel asks looking at him with those big curious eyes.

Lancelot wanted nothing more than to rigidly deny and end what he knew was coming in the bud, but the boy spoke so eagerly and with so much enthusiasm about the subject that he didn't have the heart to lie to him at that moment. He sighs and accepting his fate for the next few hours, responds. "Yes. In my village we danced ballet. I danced my share of times while I could."

"Ballet? like that delicate and elegant dance that makes you stretch to the maximum, full of jumps and things like that?" He asks with those eager eyes and fingers clenching in anticipation.

"Yes, that same one. I was a ballerina."

"That's so cool! You not only dance, you dance ballet!" Squirrel speaks excitedly, almost jumping from where he was sitting. Excitement was written everywhere on his body. "Oh oh, can you do that thing where you stretch your leg up there?! eh.. I forgot the name, but you know what it is."

Lancelot smiles at the boy's imminent excitement, almost enough to smell it. This was going to be a long evening.

Additions.

I thought about talking about the cultural dance I chose for the skyfolk too, but this post is already too far away so I'll leave it for another post. The dance is not very well known, but you will agree with me when you read the next post.

If you've read this far, congratulations, you're a champion. Thank you for your time and patience.

@lancedoncrimsonwings

WIP Wednesday Saturday tag

Damn i completaly forgot to post this thing, school is eating me out alive. Anyways, thank you @lancedoncrimsonwings.

Things went by very quickly, months passed and it was already February. It was still damn winter, but everyone always tried to convince him that it wasn't that bad. And in the midst of the cold, the fey obtained resources and a willpower that Lancelot particularly envied and asked so that they could have a Lupercalia festivity. He remembers the three days of lupercalia where they held feasts for healing and fertility and drank with the fauns. It was also when lovers declared themselves to each other in a way he never forgot.

At the birth of Aphrodite or Venus, Goddess of love and beauty, she is created from sea foam and walked through the sand to find the other Olympians, consequently her symbol is a shell. Centuries ago, it was realized that when sand is exposed to a certain temperature, it crystallizes, and as Ashes have fire in their blood, handling this would not be as difficult just as with other metals.

Every Lupercalia celebration, couples or lovers go to the beaches, light a fire and look for the shell that most reminds them of their partner, and then return to their loved one's side. Then they gathered a handful of sand in their hands with the shell in the middle and heated it until the sand melted into a crystal. They made flowers with the crystal, usually the favorites of their loved ones, each one was unique due to the way it was made and the shell inside it, the shells were exchanged and then they spent the night celebrating and loving each other. On the next day, the previous year's flower was buried in the gardens or temples of goddesses related to love or fertility. They were called love-forges.

Many women appeared pregnant after the celebration. And in fact that's how he gained a younger brother.

When Lancelot was a child, he remembered seeing his father and two mothers making these flowers for each other and exchanging them among themselves, and then they decorated the house with them until the following year, where they buried them in the garden of the goddesses.

Now Lancelot is almost thirty years old and has never made a love-forge for anyone. He thought he would never do it until a jerk with green eyes came into his life last autumn.

Now the monk suddenly finds himself waking up at dawn and voluntarily going out in the cold to go to the nearest beach and walk along the sea coast looking for the shell that most reminded him of his best friend. But how could a single shell remind him of someone like Gawain? It wasn't possible. Gawain would never be someone who could be described in a single, small shell.

After a good few minutes of walking along the coast, Lancelot's eyes fall on something small, bright green that almost immediately reminds him of his best friend, and suspiciously to his stupid heart, desired lover.

A small, flat, chubby shell, with a spiral shape as captivating as his green eyes. Its color was a vibrant light green, the base was greener than its center, which was turning white, the marks caused by the spirals looked golden, and it was so beautiful in the moonlight that it made his heart beat faster. How could something so small remind him of such an important person? The shell did not remembered him any other than Gawain. It was only as perfect as him.

Lancelot takes the shell between his hands and returns to the sand, taking a small handful between his hands. His heart was racing too fast to be considered normal, but at least it kept him warm. He places the small shell in the middle, burying it with more sand and blowing fire several times, melting the sand until it forms a malleable crystal. His hands work to create the petals, round and large, leaving the shell in the middle.

He delicately made each petal, each one held something he liked about his friend, or a moment of them together. The smell of his hair, the captivating eyes holding him as he talks, the hands helping him put his clothes back on when his ribs were broken, the way their lips almost touch when they whisper secrets to each other, the stolen clothes and teasing at breakfast. Everything that reminded him of him as each round petal was placed delicately and slowly on a gardenia, a flower that signified secret love. He finishes the flower as in tradition, a kiss on the petals on the shell.

"What is that?" Suddenly Gawain's voice sounds behind him, scaring him and making him look over his shoulder to where the other man is looking at him. Gods, was he so distracted that he didn't hear or feel Gawain nearby?

“Just a flower. It was a tradition of my people and I wanted to do it now that I, well, came back.” He responds, the heart accelerating the closer Gawain comes, until he sits next to him, but much closer than is friendly permitted.

He turns his face away from the flower to look at Gawain, their lips almost touching for a moment and both men take a few seconds to compose themselves and stop looking at each other's lips. “Does it always end with a kiss like that?” Gawain whispered, sliding his eyes to the crystal gardenia in his friend's hand. "Yes." The other responds without turns.

The green-eyed man extends his hand, touching Lancelot's and holding the gardenia with him, and speeding up both their hearts even more. “May I?” He asks, and Lancelot nods, sure that he's talking about the flower, but is surprised when suddenly his best friend's lips are on his. It's just a peck, a press of lips, but it makes the blue-eyed man's brain stop and it takes a few seconds before he responds to the kiss with a press of lips of his own.

Gawain's lips were as soft as he imagined, and Lancelot knows that his marks are glowing with the amount of happiness and passion he feels in that moment. The kiss seems to last forever, even though it was only a few long seconds. They break the kiss, both looking at each other and again the other man is the first to speak. “We should get back to the tent, before you freeze from lack of heat.” The man nods and they both get up with each other's help, but Lancelot is surprised again when Gawain pulls him to his chest and whispers in his ear. “I’ll cuddle you all night so you don’t get cold.” Lancelot feels his marks glowing brighter, his cheeks heat up and he probably looks like a tomato judging by the way his love laughed triumphantly and walked away, while he stood still for a while before following him back to the camp with the flower in his hands.

That man was still going to give him a heart attack.

Here is the inspiration for the shell and what a gardenia looks like:

This was inspired by me and the person i like showing that we like each other through origami of our favorite flowers. My heart skipped a beat when they said that they have each of the lilies I gave them in a different house. And since Lancelot has no idea how to show love I decided to put this on him too.

Happy valentines day, also late.

Look for a full body photo of Matt Stokoe where you can ACTUALLY get a reference to draw, is equivalent to successfully reach the grail with zero sins being an Orkey.

This means that is basically impossible.

Belive me i tried. And It was a nightmare. I wanted to die and not have to draw anymore.

i think in a modern au. many arthurian characters are banned from every single fast food chain ever. all for different reasons of course

Me: I hate math, doing mind maps having to do very in-depth research on specific topics in works/presentatios.

Also me: Doing math and logical reasoning, along whit a very in-depth research for especific topics and names, location and geographical division of England, time zone and distance travelled; more information about horses, all because I became hyper-focused on the fic I'm writing and to be as close to reality as possible.

...

Alright, alredy found out what my post is gonna be tomorrow.