#it's been... something... life ... so far

Let's go snooping!

but still. a weird gut-punch feeling, something akin to betrayal. you read the article. surprise! an author you love is actually: a serial fucking predator.

well, shit. what now. no, you knew he was a person (all people are), but now you're wondering - what have i overlooked by accident? what messages have i internalized that are strange and cruel? and also, like, what the fuck?

his actions lay a thick glaze on top of everything. like each place is now ruined, opaque in a new way. but okay, fine, you've done this before. you knew better, right? you've been betrayed by many a cherished childhood author.

still, this stickiness. fuck. can you pick up that book again. will you read it to your children. you've recommended it to others - will you ever do that again? and of course, of course, no parasocial relationships. you were theoretically above this kind of sentiment. but the artist informs the art, right.

so it's not something as clear-cut as feeling he owed you, specifically (a stranger) better behavior - just that you kind of, in a distant and odd way... sort of trusted him to do better. it's not like a real trust or something speakable, just the faint hope that the product (good books) was a thin representation of the soul. now it feels like the product (good? books?) was a mask. in some small or insignificant way, your previous support of this person lent them power. your money and your time and your laughter.

and the thing is - you have this terrible, echoing sensation. how many times will this happen? over and over. you find out that the singer you love is actually a predator. you learn over drinks that your favorite high school english teacher is in jail for what he did to her. you listen to the news idly and suddenly discover that a woman you used to idolize has been abusing her kids for an actual eon.

what can you touch without the static melting off. you can't even really complain about it too much (you were supposed to know better, and besides, you don't want the same re-split "it's not your fault, love what you love" basic advice), but now it's here. somehow, it feels like - you let him into your life.

it's not that things need to be pure or an artist has to be like, endlessly perfect, mindful. demure. it's more just this terrible truth that has been replayed through your veins so often it feels criminally vain. power corrupts, absolute power corrupts absolutely. did you want any one person to be worth that power?

it's just that he wrote books where he seemed to understand that. he seemed to know about hierarchies and unfair systems and bigotry and privilege. you thought they were books about what it means to struggle. you thought they were about having power and still using it for good rather than for control. he spooned you a narrative of being a good guy, a kind soul. you fucking bought what that fucking monster sold.

Golden Cheese's impromptu expedition to Beast-Yeast ends in catastrophic failure: beaten, broken, and clamoring for freedom as Burning Spice dangles her over the edge of a cliff, ready to deal her the final blow. But before he does... he stops. As does the wind. As does the spice storm whipped up by their frenzy. Everything, everyone, completely frozen in place... all except for her, and for the strange woman in strange clothes that suddenly pops out from behind her assailant, armed with an obnoxiously whimsical attitude and a pair of gigantic golden scissors.

The stranger, with an eerie smile and a twinkle in her one remaining eye, remarks that she has been watching Golden Cheese's little adventure with great interest, and is really rather displeased that the great battle against her nemesis had to end in such a way. She offers Golden Cheese not only an escape from Burning Spice's clutches, but a chance to start their clash over on... more equal footing, or so she describes it. When Golden Cheese rightfully demands answers - how, why, who even are you, what the hell is even going on - the stranger insists that she is but a good Samaritan seeking to liberate both her and her oppressor from their current circumstances.

Not knowing what else to do, Golden Cheese accepts her offer, albeit begrudgingly - but the moment she puts her hand in the stranger's own, she's wrenched from Burning Spice's iron grip and sent flying through a glowing portal filled with bizarre images of melting clocks and whirring cog wheels. She falls, and falls, and falls, until she finally falls out of this mind-melting void and onto solid ground - quickly realizing that she is still in the Land of Spice, just in a different location.

Shocked, confused, and consumed by righteous indignation, she is found and rescued by none other than Burning Spice - but not the one she's come to know and despise. This Burning Spice not only looked different, but behaved differently as well: this one was jovial, good-natured, eager to come to her aid simply because he saw her in need of it.

Well... that, and... because he thinks she's pretty.

Now Golden Cheese is stuck in a distant, idyllic past; a time long before the Beasts fell from grace, where they were still loved by the world and hailed as forces for good. She's taken in by the Wild Spices, whom are likewise shockingly friendly and accommodating towards her, even despite her initial hostility. Her mission is thus to somehow find a way back to where and when she came from (that crazy woman won't just take her back herself, she refuses to) while grappling with the personal and cultural clash between her and the Wild Spices, her crushing sense of anxiety and loneliness born from being trapped in a time and place entirely unknown to her, and - perhaps worst of all - the so-called Herald of Change coming to see her and flirt with her constantly, for his mission now is to court her and win her heart.

Meanwhile, in Golden Cheese's time, Burning Spice - her Burning Spice - knows full well that she is missing. Where she went, and how she managed to escape him, he does not know - but he will. He will spend every waking moment tracking her, hunting her down, gathering whatever information he possibly can to discover her where(when?)abouts. He will have his Soul Jam back. He will have the fight he is rightfully owed. He will have her, one way or another. If she wants to play this game with him, then fine; let this be his greatest, most entertaining hunt yet. One that will inevitably end with him catching and devouring his delicious prey exactly the way he's always wanted to, as was always meant to be, for there is nowhere his little bird can hide where Burning Spice will not find her.

Here's the first chapter haha. Hope you all enjoy it. And I hope you stick with it, the story is far from over. Also the summary on AO3 is cooler than this one. I'm sorry this one is so cringe

and its so spontaneous too, she doesnt even have a journal to write in, she just grabs a pad of paper like she needed to get her thoughts out as soon as she could

and tbh, ive been thinking for a while now that adult shauna has Deliberately been letting herself stagnate, in a metaphorical and literal sense; she doesnt have a job, she doesnt go out, she doesnt journal anymore, she doesnt Do anything. shes let her mind turn to mush ON PURPOSE. as punishment, as a defense mechanism?? both??