#there's just no way to do it unless you want to die from the stress

[creaturebloom]

god i just need all of this to be over already !!!

i'm so tired, god, i am so tired of this. we can't keep doing this but i know we're going to. i know there's no fucking end until he just dies and that could be another ten fucking years.

i hate this. i hate this so bad. nothing in my life will ever suck this fucking much for this fucking long and there's just no end in sight.

[yanderespamton78]

the current state of the arg

sorry guys the art isnt arting D:

(btw if youre confused on why i drew turnip like that i was referencing the picrew he did ages ago bc idk it looked fun to draw anddd i dont like taking reference off real life images)

[emberwhite]

I spent the last 11 months working with my illustrator, Marta, to make the children's book of my dreams. We were able to get every detail just the way I wanted, and I'm very happy with the final result. She is the best person I have ever worked with, and I mean, just look at those colors!

I wanted to tell that story of anyone's who ever felt that they didn't belong anywhere. Whether you are a nerd, autistic, queer, trans, a furry, or some combination of the above, it makes for a sad and difficult life. This isn't just my story. This is our story.

I also want to say the month following the book's launch has been very stressful. I have never done this kind of book before, and I didn't know how to get the word out about it. I do have a small publishing business and a full-time job, so I figured let's put my some money into advertising this time. Indie writers will tell you great success stories they've had using Facebook ads, so I started a page and boosting my posts.

Within a first few days, I got a lot of likes and shares and even a few people who requested the book and left great reviews for me. There were also people memeing on how the boy turns into a delicious venison steak at the end of the book. It was all in good fun, though. It honestly made made laugh. Things were great, so I made more posts and increased spending.

But somehow, someway these new posts ended up on the wrong side of the platform. Soon, we saw claims of how the book was perpetuating mental illness, of how this book goes against all of basic biology and logic, and how the lgbtq agenda was corrupting our kids.

This brought out even more people to support the book, so I just let them at it and enjoyed my time reading comments after work. A few days later, then conversation moved from politics to encouraging bullying, accusing others of abusing children, and a competition to who could post the most cruel image. They were just comments, however, and after all, people were still supporting the book.

But then the trolls started organizing. Over night, I got hit with 3 one-star reviews on Amazon. My heart stopped. If your book ever falls below a certain rating, it can be removed, and blocked, and you can receive a strike on your publishing account. All that hard work was about to be deleted, and it was all my fault for posting it in the wrong place.

I panicked, pulled all my posts, and went into hiding, hoping things would die down. I reported the reviews and so did many others, but here's the thing you might have noticed across platforms like Google and Amazon. There are community guidelines that I referenced in my email, but unless people are doing something highly illegal, things are rarely ever taken down on these massive platforms. So those reviews are still there to this day. Once again, it's my fault, and I should have seen it coming.

Luckily, the harassment stopped, and the book is doing better now, at least in the US. The overall rating is still rickety in Europe, Canada, and Australia, so any reviews there help me out quite a lot. I'm currently looking for a new home to post about the book and talk about everything that went into it. I also love to talk about all things books if you ever want to chat. Maybe I'll post a selfie one day, too. Otherwise, the book is still on Amazon, and the full story and illustrations are on YouTube as well if you want to read it for free.

[i-cant-sing]

Time Traveller AU part 7

Part 1 is here. Part 2 is here. Part 3 is here. Part 4 is here. Part 5 is here. Part 6 is here. Time Traveller au masterlist is here. Check out my MASTERLIST for more!

Part 8 is here!

"Gather the troops and have them warn the public. All the infantries will be stationed here and here. The archers and cavalary-" Salauddin was sending orders to his generals. As soon as he was informed of Baldwin coming, you knew he had only limited time to make a game plan.

You didnt understand why Baldwin would come all the way here for a war. He wouldnt leave Jerusalem unarmed this way, so either he's bring half of his army while the other half protects his kingdom from invaders- which would put him at a great disadvantage against Salauddin. Or he's bringing all of his men and that means Jerusalem is practically up for grabs.

No. He wouldnt leave Jerusalem unarmed like that, so that means he's inadequately prepared for the war?

No. Baldwin's too smart. If he won against Salauddin at just 16 years, then he's definitely coming up with a plan. And it scares you to not know what he has in mind.

You looked at Salauddin who had just finished instructing his generals, as they left. He was stressed, you could see that. War. Its not a small thing. There are no true winners when there's blood shed on either side. While Salauddin does have the advantage of fighting in his home ground, that is also his disadvantage. At the end of it, his people- his Egypt will suffer.

"Y/n." Your eyes meet. "I need you to stay inside the palace. I will have guards assigned to you. If they tell you to go somewhere, follow them."

"What? No. I'm coming with."

"Have you lost your mind?"

You ignored his insult. "If Baldwin is coming for a war-" "You're gonna talk him out of it?" "I mean, its not a bad plan but I was gonna offer you to use me as a bargaining chip? That way you could avoid blood shed." You wouldn't offer to put your life in danger but since your time machine is still not ready, you need to avoid a war.

"No." He gave you a stern look. "I dont want you anywhere near him or his men. You will stay here. Listen to me for once."

"But I-"

"Y/n." He warned. You sighed before nodding. Well I could always just go out when he leaves, just like last time.

Almost as if he had read your mind, he made you follow him to a room that had no windows or any other exits besides the one door that was made of solid wood and had guards stationed outside.

"This is the safest room, Y/n. It is impenetrable." Oh no, you cant stay here.

"I think you're overreacting a bit-"

"Overreacting? Your fiance is coming over to start a war because of your crazy brother-in-law who you underestimated because you said that he's just a tool. I think I'm reacting very appropriately." He shut you up.

"I want Isabella."

"No."

"Please Salauddin, I need to keep her safe too-"

"No."

"This may be the last wish you ever grant me, so can you just agree-"

"You think I'm going to die?!" Salauddin stared at you in disbelief.

"I... I didnt say that." You tried to think of a lie. "I mean, maybe this might be the last time you see me... alive? Who knows when the angel of death pays you a visit? If we look at the statistics, between you, me and Baldwin, at least one of us going to die-"

"Stop talking." He gritted out, "Fine."

-

"Princess." Isabella wailed as soon as she entered. You let her hug you. "I missed you too, Isabella." You smiled wiping away her tears.

"I- I heard rumors of a war! Is it- his majesty coming?" The girl sniffled. You nodded.

"Its true. A war is going to happen... unless I do something about it." She blinked in confusion. "Huh?"

You held her hands and gave her your most pleading eyes. Its time for manipulation.

"I need you to get me out of here." "Why?" "Because I need to talk to my future husband out of war."

Her eyes widened. "B-but its too dangerous for you to go outside, princess!"

You sighed. "If I cant even protect people from unnecessary pain and bloodshed, then what good am I as a queen?" Yes, time for some heart breaking lines about self sacrifice. "I would rather risk my life than the lives of those who have their families waiting for them at home. I would happily fall on my own sword if it means my subjects wont have to. If I cant prevent suffering of the very people who would bleed for me, then I have no right to be the queen of Jerusalem."

-

Half an hour later, Isabella had knocked on the door for the guards to let her out.

"Sultan Salauddin has forbidden-"

"Princess Y/n from leaving. Not me. I'm her lady in waiting and the princess needs me to get her belongings so that she can write her will."

"We can have it fetched-"

"You? A common man she has no relations with- wants to touch her stuff? I dont think so." Isabelle glared at them through her niqaab (all of your maids had followed your dress code in Egypt). She didnt wait for an answer as she began walking away before a man appeared by her side. It was one of Salauddin's guards.

"What?" She snapped at him, continuing to walk.

"They sent me to walk with you and bring you back safely." He said before grinning at her. "I thought you'd be happy to see your habeebo."

"Habeebo?" She asked, reaching your room.

He caught her wrist and turned her around, gazing at her veiled face with affection. "You cant still be mad at me for leaving the other night- I had duties."

"What right do I have to be mad at you?" Isabella kept her face down, conveying she was still very much mad.

"Habeebo's habibti- you have all rights over me. You're the only woman for me." Habeebo said as he placed a hand over his heart.

Isabelle finally giggled, freeing her wrist from his grasps. "Stop... someone could walk in on us." She warned.

"So? I'm not afraid. I can do anything for love!"

"Anything?"

"Anything." He assured her.

"Then go fetch me some cold water while I pack the princesse's belongings. Hurry now, I'll be waiting for you here." Habeebo all but smiled before walking towards the kitchen, leaving Isabella alone in your room.

As soon as she was sure he was gone, she removed her veil and quickly changed her chaddar with yours.

"Thanks Isabella." You muttered as you slipped on your chaddar. Yes, you had left Isabella in the room upstairs and pretended to be her to slip out of there. She had told you about her crush Habeebo who you had also fooled into leaving you here, and youre sure that if he were to go back upstairs and find Isabella instead of you, he'd protect her. Surely.

Sneaking out of the palace wasnt a hard feat by now. What was hard was trying to figure out what way to go to find Baldwin or Salauddin, with all the people panicking as they were being constantly warned by guards about Baldwin's arrival.

You decided to go through the market and head towards the madarrasa, though you doubt Abbas is anywhere done with the parts you gave him to make. You had given a week's deadline but only because you needed him to hurry up, not because he could actually make them in such little time.

The streets were packed, shops were getting closed and people were trying to rush home to safety. You were nearing the madarrasa when you were pulled to the side in an alley.

"Y/n!" Abbas exclaimed. "Finally, I found you." You raised a brow and he grinned. "Your things are ready."

"Already?" You were in disbelief. How did he-

He puffed his chest. "Of course. I had a deadline and with the war being announced, I'm glad I made haste!" You felt hope again. If the parts are ready, all you need to do is assemble them and you can leave this timeline for once and for all, and if Baldwin and Salauddin do end up fighting each other, everything works out! You're sure that Salauddin would win by playing to his strengths, and because eventually Guy will fuck up and betray Baldwin and cause him to die. Then another crusade will happen and Salauddin will take over Jerusalem! Everyone wins.

"Well? Hand it over."

"I dont have it with me right now! I took the parts home to work on them. Lets go." You trailed behind him, the market still bustling as the air became more tensed. They're kingdom is about to be attacked and they have little to no time to prepare for it.

Soon, you reached his home. It was a cozy place, made of mud. The beige walls added onto the coolness. He lead you inside, crossing the patio. Abbas told you to wait there while he went inside a room to get your parts. While waiting, your eyes landed on a cage in the corner that had 5 doves.

"Here it is." Abbas returned with a wooden box and gave it to you.

Opening it, you saw the designs you had given him. You took the parts out and examined them. They weren't top notch, but they'll make do.

"Thank you." You handed him a pouch of gold coins. He pocketed it before raising his brows at you. "So... will you finally tell me what this is for?"

You looked up at him before taking out your time machine. Might as well assemble it here and leave as soon as possible. "I would but I'm afraid it'll go over your head." He frowned at your words before grumbling angrily under his breath before going to the doves to give them seed. Good, he should be distracted while you put these parts in.

It didnt take more than a few minutes for you to place them in. All you had to do was to put in the last key, turn it on and set the date-

"Y/n." You looked up at Abbas, not understanding his horrified expression. What's wrong? You followed his gaze and looked behind you, and there it was-

A shadow standing at the doorway of the patio.

You squinted your eyes before your heart dropped at the realisation.

Black robes, hood over the head, geared up.

Assassin.

"This is the wrong house." Abbas said with a trembling voice.

The assassin stepped forward into the light, while you and Abbas took a few steps back.

"What- what do you want?" The assassin didnt answer him, his eyes fixed on you. This is- this is not an Ismaili. They wouldnt attack alone, and especially not so soon, and not when a war hangs over their head.

The assassin took another step forward, this time you grabbed the time machine and held it closely. This made the dark figure tilt his head at you.

"Get behind me." You moved behind Abbas. "Get out of my house- this is not the time. Evacuate!" Abbas warned the guy but he didnt stop staring at you.

As soon as he took another step, Abbas grabbed a wooden stick from the side and ran towards him, only for him to be flipped over his shoulder and slammed to the ground. You took this as a sign to run but the assassin was faster, grabbing you by the chaddar as it ripped off you. Your eyes widened as he grabbed you by the shoulder and yanked you back and your immediate reaction was to slap him, but he caught your wrist and pushed you back inside the patio. Abbas got up and tried to punch him, but he was knocked down back on his back in a second.

You ran, but didnt make it more than a few steps before you got tackled to the ground. You struggled to break free but the assassin had his arms wrapped around your neck, putting you in a chokehold.

Knowing Abbas couldnt come to your rescue, you clawed at the assassins hands, flailed about trying to break free from under him. But he had overpowered you, putting immense pressure until you started seeing black dots.

Just at the last moment, your eyes caught the sight of the dove cage and instinctively, you yanked the cage, hoping to hit the assassin in the head with it, but all you managed was to tip it over, the latch holding it close dropped.

And in the next moment, the doves flew out and went straight for the assassin. You wouldnt say they were attacking him, but the moment he saw them flying in his direction, he raised his hands to bat them away, which only caused him to get scratched-

You didnt stick around to find out if they clawed his face off, springing to your feet as you ran inside a room, hoping to find a window to escape.

You spot the window, quickly opening the wooden frame to leap out. Only the moment you have one foot out, you're pulled back inside and thrown against the wall.

The assassin is back, his body language conveying he's more pissed now than before.

You cant outrun him. You take a fighting stance. You know very well that you cant beat him either, but it works well to at least make him doubt that.

Maybe you could bribe him?

"What do you want?" You ask him, your fists raised. He tilted his head at your attempt to look ominous.

You glared at him. "You let me and my friend go, and I can assure you I can give you enough gold to keep you out of work forever. I am..." you pause before using your last card. "I am King Baldwin's fiance, future queen of Jerusalem. Let me go, and I'll give you anything you want."

He took another step forward and you knew you were backed into a corner so you punched him, only he caught your fist before it was anywhere near his face.

He stared at you, tightening his hold on your wrist.

"Please dont hurt me." You gulped before raising your other hand to punch him, but he caught it too. Now both of your hands were in one of his while he used the other to grab your throat and push you against the wall.

"Oh fuc-" He squeezed a pressure point on your neck until you passed out.

-

Salauddin was on his horse at the front of his army, waiting at the gates of his kingdom for Baldwin. His generals had informed him that they had placed the respective troops posted according to his plan. Everyone waited with baited breath for his command. They're ready to protect their sultan, ready to sacrifice their lives to protect their kingdom.

Salauddin heard them before he saw them.

The heavy jingle of metal armour, the marching of the horses and then he saw their cross flags. He gave a nod to his men, signalling to be prepared.

They're coming.

In all honesty, Salauddin was expecting Baldwin's army to not make it through the hot desert, since they rarely ever leave Jerusalem.

But it was still a surprise when he saw the actual size of his army.

It wasnt that much. Thought he anticipated it, after all Baldwin wouldnt have left his kingdom without some men, but now this means that Baldwin is not relying on numbers.

He's relying on strategy. And its hard to predict Baldwin's moves.

Salauddin's mouth turned into a grim line. What was he planning?

The templars lead the army to the gates of Egypt. The Muslims had their weapons ready to be drawn. Salauddin watched the Christians Knights halt.

Do they attack now?

Baldwin emerged from the masses on his horse, sporting his iron mask despite not needing it anymore. Salauddin also rode his horse to meet him halfway, knowing his generals dont appreciate him leaving.

Their horses stopped a few feet apart from each other. Everything was silent apart from the sound of warm air whooshing through the desert.

Baldwin raised his hand. Salauddin heart skipped a beat. He's going to signal them to attack-

"Salam alaikum!" Baldwin greeted with a wave.

Salauddin gave a nod. "Walaikum asalam."

Baldwin tilted his head. "Why so tense, Sal? Not happy to see me?"

"I dont like uninvited guests." He replied. Baldwin chuckled. "Of course. But we're friends-"

"Why are you here, Baldwin?"

Baldwin stared at him. No king appreciates being interrupted.

"I'm here to meet my fiancee."

Salauddin stared at him unamused. "You left the Holy Land to meet your fiancee who was going to return home soon anyways?"

Baldwin shrugged. "I missed her."

"Baldwin."

The young king sighed. "I know I should've informed you before coming but I really do want to see Y/n. I mean no harm, Salauddin." He raised his hands in surrender. "I just thought it would be a nice surprise for her. Ever since she cured me, I realised I hadnt seen the world that much, so what better location than Egypt?"

Salauddin stared at him, before his gaze fell on his army.

"Come on, Salauddin. Where's Y/n?" Baldwin asked with a goofy smile.

Salauddin's brows furrowed before he sighed. "In my palace." He nodded at his men to open the gates as he lead Baldwin in. But not before whispering to his second in command to surround the kingdom from all perimeters and be on high alert. Things can always go south.

Baldwin smirked looking at the size of Salauddin's army. "Aww, you didnt have to bring them for my warm welcome." Salauddin ignored him, knowing very well that Baldwin knew how it looked when a king comes unannounced at another king's door.

-

They soon arrived at the palace, welcomed by servants and maids who were looking at Baldwin in awe. They had heard rumors of his beauty, and when he removed his mask, they realised how huge of an understatement it was. And the fact that this young king was the one to defeat their sultan at just 16 years age, it definitely added to the charm.

But Baldwin wasnt blind to the furious gazes of his soldiers either. He just ignored them, which was easy since his mind was occupied by thoughts of you. Y/n. My princess. My angel.

What surprised Salauddin was that Baldwin hadnt come alone. No, Guy was here too which only confused him more. If Baldwin brought Guy along, then who did he leave to take care of Jerusalem? Sibylla and Guy's son was still too young to be a heir.

He did remember your theory about Guy being the one to hire the assassins to ambush you in the desert. If Guy came here despite his failed attempts to get rid of his enemies, then he's either incredibly stupid or he's well assured that he'll get away with everything.

Salauddin wont let him. He'll make Guy pay.

"I hate to rush you Salauddin, I know Muslims are knows for their hospitality but can you just lead me to Y/n's room? She is a sight for sore eyes." Baldwin requested sweetly, making Salauddin roll his eyes. He signalled a servant to bring you down.

Guy looked disgusted to be in the presence of so many Muslims, but the moment he caught sight of any maids passing by, he would be eyeing them like a piece of meat. A maid came by holding drinks in a tray. When she offered it to Baldwin and then Guy, the latter startled the poor girl by purposely touching her wrist with his grubby paws.

Salauddin gripped the armrest tightly. If he wasnt Baldwin's brother-in-law, Salauddin would've plucked his eyes out and had him whipped in public to make an example out of scum like him.

"So, when did you leave your camp outside Jerusalem? I was expecting to see you there on my way here, but there were new troops of yours instead." Baldwin asked, sipping the cool drink.

"I came here with Y/n. I had some errands that required my attention." Salauddin didnt bring up the ambush, watching both him and Guy to gauge their reactions. Did they know?

"Went on any new conquests recently?" Salauddin decided to make small talk as they waited for you. He hopes you're not taking time to get ready to meet Baldwin. He'd rather you come up covered in a chaddar when Guy is here.

Instead of allowing Baldwin to answer, Guy cut him off. "Of course! We are the noble warriors, the Chosen Ones! God wants us to conquer as much as possible, for the sake of his-"

"How dare you talk to me?" Salauddin silenced him. "I'm talking to your king. He may allow it but you're in my kingdom now. You will abide by the rules or so help me, your head will be on a spike for the crows to shit on." Guy's eyes widened and his jaw fell open. No one had threatened him like that, at least not since he married Sibylla.

Baldwin barely suppressed a smile and when Guy looked at him for help, he only shrugged. "You should listen to him. We are his guests, after all."

The servant returned with the special guards he had assigned to protect you, all looking scared.

"S-sultan... the princess-" Baldwin and Salauddin's gaze sharpened at your mention. The poor servant gulped.

"The princess is gone."

There was deafening silence. The servant had his head bowed, along with the guards, all too afraid of the wrath they're going to face.

"Gone? Gone where?" Salauddin spat as he walked upto them.

"I- I dont know-" Salauddin grabbed the guard by the collar and shook him. "I left her in a room with no windows, a room guarded by the 6 of the most skilled men. Where did she go?!"

The guard's head only lowered further. "Sultan, we only opened the door to let princess Y/n's maid in and out. B-but- but when we opened the door, the maid was waiting there instead of the princess!"

"Which maid? Where is she?!" Salauddin roared.

The guard nodded at his men who pushed a young girl forward roughly. She fell on her knees, crying pitifully. He immediately recognised her.

Isabella.

"Where's the princess?" Salauddin questioned her, only to be answered in hiccups and tears. A vein on his forehead popped. He doesnt have time for this. Who knows where you are? If you're safe-

"Isabella." Baldwin called out gently, kneeling in front of her. She sniffled and bowed her head. "Isabella, look at me." She took panicked breaths before lifting her eyes to meet his kind ones, not a a grain of anger in them.

"You know where princess Y/n is?" He asked, pushing her hair back over her ear. She shook her head, hiccuping though she wasnt bawling her heart now.

"Use your words, Isabella. Tell me what happened." Enchanted by his gentleness, she spilled, told him all about how you made her take your place so that you could go and stop you from starting a war with the sultan.

Salauddin watched the interaction closely, trying to figure out if Isabella was lying. He did note Baldwin's behabiour throughout this entire interrogation as well. For someone whose future wife is missing, Baldwin is surprisingly calm. Then again, he's rarely ever seen Baldwin lose his temper.

"Where did she go?" Baldwin questioned her once again.

"I- I dont know, your majesty. She never told me!" Isabella cried out.

Baldwin nodded before standing up, his brows furrowed as rubbed his chin with his thumb and index finger.

"If Y/n was going out to stop me and she never reached the gates, then it means... she's still here." Baldwin said after some deep thought. He looked at Salauddin. "Your men have surrounded the kingdoms, havent they?"

Salauddin nodded before ordering his men to find you.

"Search every house, every place. No one gets in or out of the kingdom!" He yelled at them, watching them leave. He felt Baldwin stand beside him and out of the corner of his eye, he saw his face wasn't... too concerned.

"You know, for someone whose fiancee is missing, you're surprisingly calm." Salauddin was both stating his observation, and accusing him too. Did Baldwin know where you were?

Baldwin simply smiled, his dimples showing. "I know you will find her."

"And why is that?"

"Because if I dont have Y/n in my arms by today, then I will burn your Egypt to the ground."

-

The Templar Knights kicked down doors, rattled the poor citizens and took great glee in destroying their belongings, using you as an excuse to "search thoroughly". Salauddin's army was also rigorously working to find you, interrogating everyone for any clues on you. Then again, no one had really seen how you looked like. You were just another woman covered in a chaddar and niqaabi among a whole city of them. It would be like finding needle in a hay stack and Salauddin wasnt about to allow anyone to rip off the niqaabs off his Muslim women. He wont allow such a transgression.

Fortunately, Baldwin agreed. After all, why would you be hiding from him? You dont have a reason to, right? But still, he had to find you. So he was walking through the streets of Egypt himself to look for you.

Salauddin had joined him, and not just because he wanted to ensure the safety of his folks but also to stop Guy from provoking Baldwin by feeding him any lies.

That cretin was getting on his last nerves.

Salauddin pretended to be deaf as Guy harshly whispered to Baldwin that "How can a princess just vanish? Clearly, there's someone plotting. These Arabs must've sold her off! They dont respect women like we do-" only to be pushed away by Baldwin who told him to focus his energy on finding you.

Its been 3 hours since Baldwin's arrival and still no sign of you. Despite his best attempts, Salauddin could see Baldwin's calm demeanour chipping away. He was running out of patience.

They were now standing outside the madarrassa where all the scholars, students and staff were rounded up. Salauddin was the only one who knew about Abbas, but now that he looked at each face, he realised he was the only one missing.

Immeadiately, he sent the guards to find him. Salauddin was sure that he knew about your whereabouts, He had to.

"Who is Abbas?" Baldwin asked as they both followed the guards that had found out his residence.

Salauddin didnt miss the suspicion in his tone. As much as he wanted to toy with Baldwin, now is not the time.

"He is a craftsman. Y/n had hired him to make something for her. Maybe she went there to collect it." He purposely avoided telling him about the unique chessboard you had gifted him.

After half an hour, they had reached Abbas's residence. It wasnt all that odd to find the front door open, and truth be told, no one was expecting anyone to be home.

It was concerning to find the disasterous state of the house as they entered. Clay pots were smashed to the ground, a cage lying empty in one corner. Clearly, something had happened here.

However, something caught Salauddin's eye that made his heart sink.

Your chaddar, lying on the ground.

-

You woke up with a pounding headache. When your lids fluttered open, they first spotted the single candle in the corner of the dimly lit room. Memories of the previous events flashed through your mind and you fitted the pieces like a jigsaw puzzle.

When your eyes finally adjusted to the dimly lit room, you realised you were still in the same room the assassin had knocked you out. Not only that, but Abbas was also lying beside you, though he hadnt regained conciousness yet.

"Abbas- Abbas, wake up." You raised your hand to shake him, but your eyes caught the sight of your ripped sleeve. When- when did this-

You looked down at your clothes and realised they were all tattered too. Your niqaab was gone, you recalled the assassin had pulled off your chaddar during your escape attempt, and now that you looked at Abbas, he was in a similar state too. His clothes were torn and ripped too. But why? The assassin had already knocked you two out, he didnt need to-

You gasped, patting yourself to find your lack of belongings. Your time machine was gone, as was your jewellery an coins. You'd been robbed!

Panic surged into your veins as you violently shook Abbas, your machine was gone- your only way out of this era was gone!

"Abbas! Wake up!" But he only groaned in response. What was wrong with him?

You dont have time to wonder as you rushed to open the door. You need to catch that thief, assassin- whatever he was, before he got too far and you lost your time machine forever. Grabbing the handles, you tried to yank the door open, but it didnt even budge. Its... locked.

You whipped your head around, remembering the window you were trying to get out of earlier. Running up to it, you tried to open the wooden shutters, but they didnt move an inch. No. No. This is- this is not happening. You ran back towards the door. You felt your throat close up as you pulled the door with all your might before banging your fists against them in frustration.

You were locked in.

The thief has your time machine. He's probably gone far away with it. By the time anyone comes to your aid, he'd have fled the city. He'd be gone as Baldwin and Salauddin fight and burn Egypt to the ground. I'll be trapped here, probably die under the rubble with Abbas-

Abbas.

You look back at him, still unconscious. How hard was his head hit?

You fall back on your knees besides him, trying to wake him up. He'd know- Abbas would know how to get out of this room. He's smart, and he knows his house, probably built it himself- he'd know a way out.

"Abbas! ABBAS! Wake up! Wake up-!" You grabbed his head and laid it in your lap, turning it side-to-side to see if he was bleeding. You started to massage his temples, hoping the circulation will wake him up.

Wait. Circulation.

You recalled what they taught you in first aid class- what to do when someone faints? Raise their legs above heart level. You quickly moved and pulled his knees up until they were able to stay bent on their own, before cradling his head in your lap again, tapping his cheeks.

"Abbas- Abbas, wake up please. Abbas-! I swear if you dont wake up, I will give you a tight slap-"

You were cut off by the sound of the door being banged.

What in the-

The door shook as something hard banged against it. You jumped at the force. Did the war start already? Are they using cannonballs?

No. While cannonballs were used as heavy artillery in medieval Europe, it was more popularly used in the 1700s, but I'm still in the 1100s-

NOT THE TIME TO GEEK OUT! I'M ABOUT TO DIE-

The door burst open and light flooded into the room, blinding you for a moment. You raised your hand to shield yourself from the light before slowly bringing your hand down as you saw figures entering into the room.

Once your eyes finally adjusted, you recognised the figures in front of you.

Salauddin. Baldwin. Guy-

Guy?

All three of them stared at you, though your eyes remained focused on Baldwin, who looked at you, then at your clothes, and then... at Abbas.

The look of relief turned into confusion. What? Whats wrong?

You heard Salauddin yell something in Arabic at his soldiers, which made them instantly look away and leave the room. Baldwin kept looking at you in barely suppressed shock.

"Baldwin?" You whispered, though it was Salauddin who moved first, removing his chaddar and bending down to cover you with it, but your eyes were fixated on Baldwin's face. Why is he... looking at you like that?

Wait. If Baldwin and Salauddin are here together, then it means there's no war. Which means-

"Are you okay? What happened?" Salauddin asked you, though before you could answer him, Guy began laughing.

"Okay? She's more than okay!" He smirked. "After all, she was spending some time with her secret lover!"

Both your and Salauddin's eyes went wide. It finally clicked why Baldwin was looking at you like that.

He thinks you and Abbas-

"No. That's not true-" You tried to speak but Guy cut you off.

"Of course it is! Look at you, holding his head in your lap so sweetly!" He accused before snarling at you. "And you chose a dirty Muslim to cheat on our King? The audacity! And the lack of taste."

You shook your head. "Thats not true. This is Abbas. He's a- a craftsman-" "Oh, I'm sure you were pretty crafty with him too." Guy cut you off.

"Shut up, Guy!" You snapped. "I came to get my valuables from him. It was a gift! I had them commissioned for- for you Baldwin!" You half lied.

"And where is that gift?" Guy interrogated.

"I was robbed. We both were-" "Oh how convenient!" You glared at him. He was framing you. You pointed at your clothes. "How else do you explain the torn clothes?!"

Guy hummed and you knew you were going to regret as soon as a disgusting smile crept on his face.

"Well, animals fuck with wild passion-"

"I WAS ROBBED!" You yelled. "Look, the thief even knocked out Abbas!"

"I dont see a head injury." Guy shrugged. "I just think he's passed out from drinking. Or maybe his stamina wore out-"

"Shut up! Just shut up!" Your face was red with rage, though to anyone else it may have looked like you were caught red handed in a lie. You calmed yourself down. You need to explain before things got worse.

"Baldwin, I'm not having an affair with Abbas. He's married-" Once again, Guy cut you off, this time waving his hands. "My king, it doesnt matter to these Muslims. They're into polygamy. Whats one wife, when you can have four?"

Of all the things, this is the one thing he knows about Islam?

You didnt detect one, not a single emotion of trust or love from Baldwin's stoic face. Is he- is he actually believing this bull?

Why wouldnt he? He's a man after all. And who knows what other lies Guy has been filling his head with to make him doubt your loyalty?

Enough is enough. You need to come clean.

"You know what Guy? I was going to keep this a secret to let you beg for forgiveness, but I think its time for the truth, hm?" You watched Guy's smirk falter. Enough games. You stared at Baldwin with determination. "Here's what has happened Baldwin: Charlotte didnt just happen to drop by Jerusalem. No, Guy summoned her by pretending to be you. Oh and I have that exact letter where Guy used your respectful name as proof. Guy exploited Charlotte and his plan was to use her and her son's illness to infect you so that you could die and he could get your throne."

Guy's face paled. But you didnt stop there.

"Of course, when that didnt work because you and I have an unbreakable bond, Guy decided to get rid of me." You looked at Salauddin. "When I left for Egypt and I was at Salauddin's camp, he had hired assassins to ambush us in the dead of the night and kill me or Salauddin, or both! If I were to die while I was with Salauddin, he would've convinced you that Salauddin was the one who killed me. And if Salauddin was dead, then it meant good news for Guy because he would have to deal with one less enemy after he took your throne."

"Lies! There's no proof-"

"No proof? Baldwin, did you realise that more than half of my entourage was missing? Its because they're dead. And if that isnt enough proof, then this might help-" You pulled up your sleeves to show your fading burn marks. "My back is full of these marks because the assassins left me to die in a burning tent. It was Salauddin who saved me!"

"And today? When we heard you were coming, everyone thought that there will be a war. I left the palace on my own, to find you Baldwin. I wanted to stop you from committing unnecessary bloodshed! I came to Abbas's house to get my gift for you, but Guy sent a thief after us! The thief knocked us out and he robbed us both!" You explained. "Didn't you ever wonder Baldwin- why Guy decided to accompany you today? Guy has never left Jerusalem, not even for a war, not to defend his people. He wouldnt leave the throne empty! He hopes, he prays and he plots for you to die everytime you leave Jerusalem so that he can finally be king!"

"BLASPHEMOUS!" Guy screamed, red in the face. "You wench-!"

"With all due respect Guy, which is NONE! I didnt think you would be smart enough to come up with such schemes. I underestimated you, which turned out to be mistake because you made Baldwin doubt me!"

Guy shook his head and stood in between you and Baldwin, acknowledging the stoic faced king first. "This is slander! All lies, Baldwin! I'm your brother-in-law! I would never betray you!"

"Never betray Baldwin? You aren't even loyal to Sibylla! I could have more than half of Jerusalem attest to that you've tried sleeping with other women! Adulterer!" Guy's eyes practically popped out of his socket and he screeched.

"You dare accuse me of cheating?! YOU?! You're the one who is locked in a dark room with a strange man in your lap like a fucking whore!" Not risking Baldwin's suspicion, Guy stormed towards you with his hand raised to strike you.

"You unfaithful, lying bitch-!" You heard the air being sliced and you flinched as you felt something splatter across your cheek.

Thud.

You looked down to where the sound came from.

Guy's head dropped in front of you.

Your ears began ringing. Slowly, your eyes trailed back up to where his body remained.

Headless body. That fell to its knees before dropping to the side.

You could hear the ringing get louder.

Baldwin stood there, his eyes full of rage, his hand holding his sword that had just cut off Guy's head.

He was breathing heavily, nostrils flared and a vein popped in his temple. Your heart dropped as his eyes landed on you and he moved towards you.

Your consciousness finally gave out.

Salauddin caught you but not for long as Baldwin made his way to you. Fearing for you, Salauddin tried to bargain for your life.

"Baldwin, she didnt-"

"Let her go. Now." Baldwin commanded, throwing Abbas's head off your lap. He didnt wait for Salauddin to move, simply taking you from his arms, ripping off the chaddar and replacing it with his cloak instead, before picking you up.

"Lets go home." He whispered in your ear before kissing your temple, pulling you snug against him as he walked out of the room.

-

You wake up to the feeling something wet on your legs. You jolt, eyes snapping open as you look for your potential assaulter-

"Isabella?" You croaked as you saw the young girl at the foot of the bed, her face red and eyes swollen from all the crying.

"P-princess." She greeted tearfully, holding a wet towel in her hand. Her lips wobbled as she spoke, nose bright red, sniffling as she stared at you with those big sad eyes.

"What's wrong?" You couldnt help but be soft with her. She just- she looked so pitiful.

She looked down, her hands clutching the towel tightly. "You- you were- you were gone for so many hours. I- I didnt know where you were- his majesty and the sultan- they were so mad- they were so concerned- i- i didnt think they believed me when I said I didnt know- where- where you were- i thou-thought you were-" Her tears cut off her hiccuping explanation. You didnt think she would be this distraught over you.

"Its... its okay, Isabella. You didnt do anything wrong. I'm... fine." You tried to calm her down, beckoning her forward. You sat up on the bed, taking the rag from her hands before holding her hands in yours. Giving them a gentle squeeze, you assured her. "I'm fine, Isabella. In fact, I should apologise for causing you all the trouble-" She shook her head. "No- princess- its my duty to serve-" You gave her hands another squeeze, calming her down.

"Thank you- oh. Isabella-" You looked at her hands, noticing something red peeking from her wrist. You pulled her sleeve up, realising that the redness was from the welts on her arms. "What happened?" You asked, turning her wrist around, noticing a small scratch.

She pulled her hands away, pulling down her sleeves as she sniffled. "N-nothing to worry about, princess-"

"Did you get injured? Are you okay?" She nodded. "I just- when I heard you were missing, it made me worry too much and I- I tend to scratch my arms when I'm stressed!"

You gave her sympathetic look, grabbing the cool towel from earlier and handing it to her. "Oh, I'm so sorry, Isabella. Here- take this. It'll help your skin, hm?"

"But the king asked me to wipe your sweat with this-"

"Its fine- wait? What sweat?"

She nodded. "We've been travelling through the desert for some days. His Majesty suggested I be the one to wipe you clean while you were unconscious." Now that you looked around, you realised you were in a tent, much different in design to Salauddin's.

Wait, desert?

"We've left Egypt?"

"Yes-"

She stopped speaking as soon as the sound of footsteps filled the room.

You stiffened at the sight of Baldwin.

Isabella had to only take one look at his face before taking her leave. Events of the last time you had seen him flashed through your mind, and you couldnt help but be scared of him when you remembered the murderous look on his face as he killed Guy. It is one thing to know that a king has killed people, perhaps even more brutally than this but after spending so many months with Baldwin, you had become accustomed to his soft nature. Never in your worst nightmares could you have ever imagined such a barbaric actions from him, and to his own brother-in-law.

It made you question everything, your own mortality- your own safety with him.

"How are you feeling?" He had his arms crossed behind his back as he made his way towards you. It took everything for you to not flinch back and beg for your life. No- no, you need to think smartly. If he wanted to kill you, he wouldve gotten rid of you back there-

Or maybe he has decided to torture you.

"I'm fine." You replied weakly, keeping your eyes on your lap. You dont want to risk pissing him off.

Maybe I should apologise, clear the air before he has any other doubts about me.

"I'm sorry." You said abruptly, finally looking up at him. His stoic expression didnt falter. This is not the Baldwin you knew, no. This was the king you had imagined when you first came here. Stiff and apathetic.

Taking his silence as a sign, you continued. "I'm sorry... for everything. For hiding the truth about Guy, for causing misunderstandings, for making you doubt me-"

"I never doubted you." He cut you off.

Your brows raised in surprise. He sighed sitting down on the bed besides you.

"I never doubted you, Y/n. Not once." He said with conviction."I didnt doubt you when Salauddin said you'd be with Abbas. I didnt doubt you when Guy raised false allegations. I didnt doubt you when I saw you in that dark room alone with that man. You could've been naked in there and I still would not have doubted you."

Your lips parted. What... what was he-

"You trust me? That much?" You couldn't help but whisper.

He smiled sadly. "I do. And more than that, I trust in my love for you." Baldwin looked down at his hands, still smiling gently. "I love you so deeply that I know you would never betray me. I have loved you the way I want someone to love me. My love for you... it is free of impurity, of imperfection. And thats how I know you would never betray me."

You couldnt help the tears that came in your eyes, and you looked down. How could he- how could he-

"If anyone should apologise, it should be me, Y/n." Your head snapped back at him. He was looking at you with genuine guilt. "I may have loved you deeply but I have failed to express it to you. Had I- had I done a better job, had I let you know just how much I feel for you, you wouldn't have hesitated to come to me. You wouldn't have felt the need to hide your traumas, your pain from me. You wouldn't have felt shy to get my help, to tell me your secrets. All of this could've been avoided if I had made you feel secure enough to come to me. I alone am responsible-"

"Baldwin." Your teary voice cut him off. You shake your head, sniffling at him. "This- this isnt your fault- I-"

"You did nothing wrong." He assured you, holding your hand. "Traps were set for you, but it was my job to save you from them. I am your protector, your shield. I owe my life to you. I owe everything to you."

A tear slipped from your eye. "I- I didnt think you'd save me. I thought you didnt trust me- I thought I lost you forever." You dont know why you said that, but they were true.

"I would've found you. I will always find you." Baldwin cupped your cheek, he felt his heart break at your confession.

"If I don't go to you Y/n, then where do I go?" And at that, the dam you'd been holding finally broke.

Baldwin immediately pulled you into his lap, his arms wrapping around you as you buried your head into his shoulder, sobs wracking your entire being. You dont know why you're crying, whether its because of Baldwin's pure love for you, or that Guy is dead because of you and you've ruined the timeline, or because you're mourning the loss of your time machine and its just dawning on you that you're stuck here forever.

He patted your back, rocking you gently like a child. "All my paths lead to you, Y/n. All my conquests bring me to you. Everything leads to you." He kissed your cheek, his hand petting your hair smoothly as you broke down in his arms. "You... you are the beginning and end of my everything."

Baldwin pulled you away and wiped your tears away with his thumbs. "I love you, Y/n. And I know you love me too. You may not say it, but I know deep down in your heart, you love me. I know you do-"

"I love you, Baldwin." You said.

His eyes went wide. "You don't have to say it-"

"I love you, Baldwin. I really do." You admitted.

Baldwin's shock was replaced with joy, a grin gracing his face as he cupped your face and kissed your forehead deeply.

"You have no idea how happy you've made me." He whispered before pulling you into his embrace.

-

Following this, you both began your journey back to Jerusalem. Every now and then, you'd start crying again because you'd realised just how much you were loved by Baldwin. You remembered the time when you saw him with Charlotte and you didn't give him a chance to explain. You had already decided that he was a cheater, he was disloyal. Yet when the tables were turned, when everything pointed against you and Baldwin had every right to find you disloyal, have you punished for even being in a locked room with another man, he trusted you. He didn't question your love for him. And even if you didn't love him back then, you respected him enough, both as a king and as a man and he still didn't ask for an explanation, let alone accuse you of adultery.

The rest of the trip home was spent with you crying and Baldwin consoling you like a toddler. No matter how many times your tears fell, he was right there to wipe them away and assure you that you did nothing wrong.

Did you love Baldwin? Maybe not back then, but you do now. Perhaps he was right. Maybe you did love Baldwin deep down, you just didn't know it.

And it's not like you don't have a choice either way. With your time machine lost, you can't leave this place. So, you've accepted your fate and agreed to marry him. Baldwin says the wedding preparations are mostly complete and the wedding day is on Sunday.

Today is Friday, when you both finally reach Jerusalem. It didn't dawn on you until now just how you were going to face Sibylla, the woman whose husband was killed because of you.

But Baldwin already had a plan. "Guy was buried in an unmarked grave outside of Egypt. I have instructed my knights to inform everyone that Guy had died a dishonourable death because he was a traitor to the crown."

"Traitor to the crown?"

He nodded. "I'll tell Sibylla I caught him cheating on her and plotting against me." He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Its believable. She'll be upset, but she'll get over it. Besides, she deserves better than him. I have already found a list of suitors for her."

He truly has thought of everything.

-

Sibylla as expected was the grieving widow and after she welcomed you and Baldwin, she excused herself and left. You pitied her, she really did love Guy despite all his shortcomings. But she also respected her brother.

After a quiet dinner, you had returned to your room. You sat on your bed as you thought over the events of the past few days. Baldwin had assured you that he doesnt hold any hostility towards Salauddin. In fact, to further put your mind at peace, he told you that he had invited Salauddin to the wedding. As for Abbas, Baldwin said he doesnt know what happened to him but he's sure Salauddin didnt harm the man.

"Did you ever find your family?" Baldwin had asked earlier. You shook your head, telling him that you mistaken someone you thought was family.

"I know you would prefer to have the Nikkah first, before our actual wedding, but I wasnt able to find someone to marry us off in the Islamic way. But then-" He grinned, almost proud of himself. "I decided who better than Salauddin?! Since he'll be arriving on the day of the ceremony, he could walk you down the aisle and then later that day, he could do the Nikkah for us!" You could only smile and agree, what difference does it make what ceremony happens first? You're stuck here either way, and you're gonna be his wife soon.

You sighed and got up to dress into something more comfortable. As you removed your clothes, your hand found something in your underclothes.

The key.

You fiddled with it. Its useless now. The thief probably has broken your machine or sold it and it could be anywhere in the world now, also useless without this key here.

You put it back in your underclothes. Perhaps it'll be of use you can craft your machine again one day.

Lying in your bed, you thought about Guy. You didnt feel guilty, no. He had it coming, and it really was a matter of you versus him at the end. But what bothers you is how much you had underestimated him.

Guy's plan was perfect. There was no chance of escape for you. He had ambushed you and Salauddin, and when you narrowly escaped that attack, he brought Baldwin to Egypt to cause misunderstandings between him and Salauddin. And when they found you with Abbas, all his allegations were perfectly said. You're only here because Baldwin was far too much in love with you. He had no reason to not take Guy's words over yours.

You turned to your side and closed your eyes.

Perhaps God saved me.

-

Today is Saturday and Sibylla had taken you to get your dress fitted.

"Whats that?" You pointed at the huge frame, covered by silk as the servants struggled to hang it on the wall.

"Oh, you're not supposed to see it yet, but Baldwin had commissioned a portait of you. He wants to gift it to you tomorrow, so dont peek. He'd hate to miss your first reaction." She explained.

"You look... absolutely stunning." Sibylla praised as she looked at you in awe. She brought some jewellery to pair with your white gown. A diamond necklace, tear drop earrings, and-

The ring.

"Its the-"

"The exact same ring!" Sibylla finished for you, slipping it on your finger. "After yours was stolen by that thief in Egypt, Baldwin had the same ring made again by the royal jeweller within a day!" Your heart warmed at the gesture. Baldwin must've known you felt guilty over losing his family ring.

"Isabella, will you pass me the veil?" You asked. Isabella brought the soft veil and helped you wear it. As she was adjusting it, your eyes caught sight of her hands again.

"Oh, they didnt heal?" You gently grabbed her hands, taking note of the same red welts on her arms again. She pulled her hands from your grasp away.

"N-no, they healed princess. Its just- its that I'm stressed again! Thats why my skin is itchy and I- scratched them raw."

"Stressed? By what?" You asked.

"Oh- um, the wedding." She muttered. "Its- its not that I'm not excited for it, I am very happy for the union of you and His majesty, but its just we have very little time and there's so much to do-"

You giggled, nodding at her understandingly. "I see. Well, I apologise for causing you to stress. And I hope you know how much I appreciate your efforts."

"Its my honour to serve you, princess." She squeaked.

"Well, do get those checked out soon, Isabella. I dont want you getting sick." Sibylla advised the young girl who bowed her head before taking her leave.

Sometime later, after you had lunch with Baldwin, you decided to go to the gardens and... be by yourself for a while.

Planned or not, I'm getting married tomorrow. This will be my last day as a single woman and I... I should savour every moment left.

You were sitting in a cozy little spot in the royal garden. It was besides the huge bush maze, near the area where your time machine had first gotten burned by the maids accidentally. Speaking of maids, the small entourage had given you space and were standing near the maze, away from your eyes with some knights. They were all eager to please you, the future queen, if only to get a better status by you or Baldwin.

But you had already decided to make Isabella your lady-in-waiting. She deserves it, for everything she's done for you.

You laid down on the soft bed of grass, looking up at the sky as you wondered what will happen tomorrow. Well, nothing about the wedding, Sibylla had made you rehearse several times that you knew exactly how the ceremony will go tomorrow. No, you were curious about... how your wedding will impact the future.

Will you cease to exist? Will the world change because the crusades might not happen since a Christian king married a Muslim commoner? Will there-

Doves flew up in the sky. You smiled, recalling the doves in Abbas's house. You hoped he was alright now. Maybe he could attend the wedding-

Wait.

You sat up with a jolt at the realisation, heart beating fast as you connected the dots.

-

Isabella rushed to the gardens. A servant had told her that you had immediately summoned her. Fearing the worst, she hiked up her gown and ran as fast as she could.

She was out of breath by the time she found you. "You called for me, princess?" She gasped out. You hummed, standing beside a gilded cage of doves.

"Arent they so beautiful?" You asked her, beckoning her to come forward. "They are indeed." She agreed, standing beside you.

"I was thinking of releasing them tomorrow, outside the chapel. All the maids could hold them in their hands and release them as I walk out with the king. What do you think?"

She nodded. "Wonderful idea. I'll go and have it arranged-"

"Hm? Oh, I took care of that. Why dont you open the cage and hold this one for me?" You smiled at her as you made you took a few steps back. "And gloves off, Isabella. I want to see how you will look like tomorrow."

Isabella throat ran dry, She gulped looking at you, then at the cage before back at you.

"I- I cant hold the doves, princess. They'll slip out of my hands-"

"We have plenty here for you to practise. Dont worry. Now make haste." You crossed your arms in front of you and looked at her expectantly.

She parted her lips to say something, but then looked back at the cage. "Whats the matter? Dont know how to hold them?" You sighed before making your way back to the cage. "They're just tiny little birds, gentle ones really. They wont bite you, so I dont know why you fear them. Here, let me show you how to hold one." You opened the cage and carefully held the dove in your hands, petting it softly. "There, there."

You suddenly thrusted the bird in her direction, and Isabella jumped back. "What's the matter? Scared of birds?"

Isabella hesitantly nodded. "Yes, I'm sorry princess- I- I- dont like birds. I'm very much afraid of them." You nodded understandingly, before placing the bird back in the cage. "How very inconsiderate of me. Very well, off you go." Isabella bowed graciously and was about to leave when you suddenly grabbed her arm and rubbed a feather along her exposed arm.

"P-princess-!" She shrieked, trying to yank her arm out of your grasp but your grip didnt relent.

"Would you look at that?" You grinned looking at the area turning bright red. "Are you itchy now? Did I stress you too much?"

Isabella could only look at you in horror as you became angry.

"How stupid do you think I am?" You snarled before throwing her hand down. "That itchy red skin wasnt from stress, it was from birds!" Her eyes widened.

"You had me thinking that your tears, your red skin, your snotty sniffles was because you were soooo concerned for me. But you actually had the rose fever from birds!" You recalled seeing the scratch on her hands the day you had first seen her skin, which wasnt just random skin welts. They were hives, from her allergy to avian protein (or birds, in simple terms).

Isabella could only look at you in silence as you continued. "How long did you think you could keep this charade up? Did you honestly think I wouldnt find out?!" She kept quiet while you continued, which only made you angrier.

"It was you. You were the thief. You- only you knew when I would leave the palace. You followed me! And you stole from me?!" When she didnt speak, your threatened her.

"Say something before I tell the king how you attacked me!"

Isabella looked up, and she smirked.

"You have no proof."

You looked at her in disbelief. Instead of defending herself, denying all the things- she basically admitted to it all.

"Isabella, where are my belongings?" You asked her. "If you return my things, I wont let you stay here, but I will let you leave this castle on your two feet." You didnt bother asking her why she did it, you cant waste any more time. You need to get your time machine back.

She shrugged, playing with her nails. Now that she was caught, she didnt bother putting up her scared, demure little girl image. "It doesnt matter. You will never get it. And you're not getting rid of me either. After all, you have no proof of any of the things you accused me of."

"You think you're going to get away with it?" She hummed. "I already have, princess. Now, I will be returning to my duties to prepare for you wedding tomorrow. And I think we'll do no birds-"

You pulled out a knife, silencing her. She looked at the knife before smiling. "Are you really going to kill me? Did you forget how I overpowered you and Abbas back there?"

"I havent." You bring the knife up to your throat. "But if you dont tell me where my belongings are this instant, I will slit my throat and let you explain to the king how you killed me. Oh and you may think you can just sneak out of here, but remember, there's a whole entourage who saw you come here. They'll tell Baldwin you were the last person to see me, and then no matter where you run, Baldwin will hunt you down. Him and his Templar knights."

Her brows furrowed at your threat. "Princess, I dont-"

"Dont think for a moment I wont do it, Isabella. I'm mental." When she remained quiet, you pressed the blade harder into your neck, just enough for the skin to break and blood to pour, making her eyes wide.

"Okay! Okay- stop! I'll tell you."

-

Isabella lead you to a room inside the castle, hidden away in a corner. You had never been here before, you realised when you stepped inside. She pulled out a drawer from the desk, which had a false floor in it. Lifting the wooden panel, you saw all your belongings, including your time machine.

"Leave." You ordered her. Once you were alone, you pulled out the key from your underclothes and placed it inside. Saying a tiny prayer, you turned on the machine.

It worked. The tiny lights turned on. All you had to do was set the date and-

The machine was snatched from your hands. "Isabella drop-!" Your eyes widened at the sight of Baldwin holding the machine.

"What are you doing?" He asked you, looking at the machine.

"Baldwin, please give it back-"

"This?" He shook the machine in his hands. "Sure, you can have it." He smiled at you before bashing the machine to the ground.

"BALDWIN NO! STOP!" You tried to stop him, but Baldwin pushed you away and kept smashing the machine until its lights went out and they key broke.

"NOOOOO!" You finally snatched it from his hands but it was too late. The screen wouldnt turn on, wouldnt display the date no matter what you did. The key was broken.

"WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!" You cried out.

"What is wrong with me? What is wrong with you?!" Baldwin yelled. "What were you going to do with that? Leave me, the love of your life, to go where?! Back to heaven?!"

Heaven? No fucking way-

"Do you- do you actually think I'm an angel?" Oh god. The look on his face was enough to let you know that he was actually serious.

"You can deny it all you want, but I am your husband to be and you cannot lie to me! You appeared out of nowhere in my castle. You cured me, you brought that baby back to life and you have escaped death one too many times! You may think I'm a fool, but I'm the king of Jerusalem, head of the Church and you were sent to me by God Himself! YOU ARE MINE AND I WILL NOT LET YOU GO BACK!"

Oh God. Oh God, you're marrying a crazy person.

Wait.

"How did you know I was here?" Your brows knitted together when he didnt reply, still looking at you in rage. "Did Isabella-" You gasped.

Of course. OF-FUCKING-COURSE!

"She wasnt a thief. She was a spy!" You chuckled humourlessly. "All this time, I thought Guy was behind it all, but I knew- I knew he was too dumb to come up with such a plan. It was you! It was always you! You sent the Ismailis after me! You sent Isabella after me to steal my belongings and spy on me! You set me up with Abbas so that when you "saved" me, I'd fall for you! Oh and I'm sure you made it seem like Charlotte was also here because Guy had called her. You framed Guy just so that you could have an excuse to get rid of him!"

"I did it because I love you!"

"You hurt me because you loved me?" You whispered to him, tears flowing down your cheeks. "I almost burned to death because of you. And you say- no. Why did you do this, Baldwin? Why the hell did you do all this?!"

"I was- I was testing you." He answered, bending down on his knee to cup your face. "I... only wanted to see if you would come to me for help. If you truly trusted me, loved me enough to come to me." He wiped your tears away. "I'm sorry it had to happen this way, but it worked out in the end-"

"You dont test the people you love, Baldwin."

"Oh, come on. Even God tests his strongest believers-"

"YOU ARE NOT GOD!" You shrieked, pushing him away.

"I'm not, but I'm special to Him. He made you for me. He gifted you to me. He made you fall in love-"

"I dont love you!" You cried. "I can never love you! Never!"

Baldwin's face hardened. "You do love me. You said so yourself. Now, youre just saying nonsense out of hysterics. Calm down-"

"I hate you. I have never loathed anything as much as I loathe you. I would never love you, even if you were the last man on Earth. I fucking hate you."

Baldwin stared at your red face. "Well, I hope you can change your mind because we will be getting married tomorrow regardless." He tried to touch your face but you slapped his hand away. "Besides, I love you enough for the both of us."

-

Its Sunday. You were locked in your room with a whole infantry ordered to not let you out. You had cried the entire night at your loss, at your fate, at your stupidity. How could you have ever trusted Baldwin? And now you will have to marry this religious lunatic.

The maids did their best to dress you up and tried to mask your red, swollen eyes. And with Isabella in the room, you were sure she had told them to not comment at your pitiful state.

You were standing outside the chapel with Salauddin. Everything seemed to blur, the choir singing, the attendees- you couldnt focus on anything.

"Y/n." You finally looked up at Salauddin, who was looking at you with deep concern. "Are you okay?" He asked you, noticing your teary eyes and dull expression.

"No."

He wasnt expecting you to answer bluntly.

"Do you want to marry Baldwin?" He whispered.

"No."

"I can help you-"

"No." You sniffled. "No one can."

The knights stood outside the chapel doors, waiting for you to enter. A few ladies held your trail behind you. Salauddin cast a glance at them before passing you something in your hand discreetly.

"Abbas asked me to give you this."

You opened your palm to see-

A key.

The key!

But how did he make this? You never designed it-

You smiled. That genius. He must've used the other parts to figure out the design and crafted it.

Abbas, I'm sorry I dont give you enough credit.

"Give him my thanks. And a lot of money, hm?" Salauddin could only nod in confusion. You looked back at your ladies. "I need to pee." Their eyes widened at the use of such crass language, especially in front of the sultan.

"But princess, the ceremony is about to start-"

"Would you rather I pee in my gown?" You snapped.

"But there is no bathroom here-"

"Then be useful and find a sheet and a bush. Now!" They all scrambled away to find some bush. You looked at the knights in front of you. "Go inside and inform them of a delay. The princess has to take a shit."

They looked hesitant to leave. "I'm not taking off my underclothes in front of you men. LEAVE!" They hurriedly went inside and closed the door to give you privacy.

You looked at Salauddin. "Can I borrow your horse?" He nodded, helping you up on it.

"Where are you going? I'll come with."

You shake your head. "No. I have to go alone. And I suggest you go inside as well."

"Y/n-"

"Please, Salauddin. No more questions. I dont want to lie to you." You smiled at him.

Salauddin reluctantly went inside the chapel, and you rode the horse out of there. There was only so long before Baldwin realised you had left, so you needed to speed things up. Grateful that you had swapped your broken time machine during your heated argument with Baldwin. You placed the new key in, just as you heard the sound of galloping horses and Baldwin-

"Y/N!" You didnt pay attention as you sped off ahead, only stopping when you reached the edge of the cliff. Climbing down, you looked at your machine as you turned the key.

It didnt turn on.

No. No. No-

"Y/N! GET BACK HERE!" Baldwin yelled at you, getting off his horse as he made his way. His troops had surrounded the area so you couldnt escape.

You looked back at your time machine and you- you banged it with your hand. "Come on. Come on!" This had to work- you banged on it as you would bang on a TV set when it stopped working, on a remote when it didnt operate quite right.

"Did you think you could escape me?!" You looked up and Baldwin was a few feet away.

"Baldwin stop!" You took a step back, nearing the cliff. "I'll jump-I'll fucking jump, I swear!" He halted.

"Dont be stupid, Y/n. Come to me, and we can put this behind us-"

You banged on the machine, cutting him off.

The machine turned on.

You grinned as Baldwin stared at you, shaking his head. "Dont-"

You jumped, pressing the button and hoping you returned to your time. You hadnt been able to set the date cause of the broken buttons.

The last thing you heard was Baldwin screaming your name.

So what do you guys think? Yall better comment and send asks and reboots because i sacrificed lunch and dinner for this.

Also, what do u guys think will happen in the next part? Do you think she'll return home or to a new timeline??? And which era???👁👁

PART 8 is here!

[dollgxtz]

My first and only statement on all the accusations

Hello, I’m sure most of you are aware of the accusations about me and some of the stories I posted on my account. This post is not only an apology post, but an accountability post that details everything that happened from beginning to end. Everything will be here, so I will not be making more posts about this unless it’s to direct to this one.

Adding a tw now for suicide baiting, death threats and mentions of razors. So sorry but it must be included.

First I just wanted to say, no I wasn’t avoiding any of this. When this all started I was still in the middle of finals week, and I don’t live on tumblr 24/7. I had to focus on my finals to ensure I can get my degree and graduate. That was my number one priority. If anyone was blocked or comments were restricted during that time, it was my mostly my irl friend ensuring I wasn’t consumed by tumblr and could focus on my finals. I was already under a lot of stress and she offered to take over until I was finished with finals.

I was also getting death threats (people telling me to skin myself I alive and to jump). So she was ensuring that when I returned to my own blog, I would not see such triggering content. I have a history with suicide attempts and this was necessary for my mental health. The appropriate people were unblocked and remain unblocked to this day.

I always intended to make a statement, I just prioritized my real life first. It also took time to craft the post you are seeing now. I wanted it to be authentic, no misinformation, and well written.

So, as far as plagiarism goes, yes I did plagiarize specifically 3 of zombiekillerbiceps stories. I can’t actually remember the names of them and the author has removed their account from the site. But on my end specifically “Getting Closer”, “Edge of Control” and “Thrills” were not my own writing. Before they deleted their account I had already reached out via dm and apologized. We came to an understanding. I do not know why they deleted their account but they essentially said in DMs they accepted my apology and wanted to put this behind us but they were very hurt that I had copied them.

Edit: I found the post she made calling me out and will attach it.

As far as His Watchful Eye goes, the only plagiarism that took place was specifically the first chapter of it and only the first chapter. The first chapter of Something Permanent and His Watchful Eye are very similar. The remaining 13 chapters are my own writing and ideas. I have already reached out to @explorevenus and apologized. She has responded and made her own statement regarding it if you want to go and read it.

The only reason it was in anon is because this account (dollgxtz) is my side blog. I couldn’t figure out how to send a non anonymous message without exposing my main blog, so anon was the best thing. I didn’t want people sending death threats too that one too. I should’ve put my username in the anon, but it was already very late for me and I hadn’t slept in about 26 hours. I just wasn’t thinking very clearly and for that Venus I am also very sorry.

@manika-whims (the person that first wrote about all this) will remain blocked and some of her followers because I do suspect it was that group of people telling me to die. Manika wrote a very long post as she was upset that I “mischaracterized” Xavier in His Watchful Eye, called me a bitch and a loser because of a fictional man in a fictional story, and I will not entertain such immaturity. Full stop.

One of the anons that sent the suicide bait also called me a bitch and a waste of space. It was just too similar.

I also got this one. It’s too graphic to show the entirety of it.

I apologize for the plagiarism. But I will never apologize for writing characters the way I do or for writing dark content. It’s just not that serious. After she posted that I started getting these death threats and more.

You had every right to call me out for plagiarism Manika, but I stand my decision to keep you blocked. It had nothing to do with plagiarism accusations or me hiding from them, but I do believe you egged on your audience to come attack me over a fictional story and for that reason you will never be unblocked. I’ve attached screenshots below of the entire exchange. This is not to deflect from my own actions. This is simply to explain why she is blocked. She will say it’s because I was trying to hide from this but that is not true. I am just very sure the death threats came from her or her audience. This isn’t to say that she absolutely did but just in case, for my own mental health and safety I had to have them blocked.

Now that that’s discussed, I would like to address my readers and any future readers of mine. The plagiarized stories “Getting Closer” “Thrills” and “Edge of Control”. have been deleted and will remain deleted. Those of you asking for copies, please do not. They are not my writing nor my own works. Any remaining single work story on my blog is my own work and 100 percent my own ideas. My masterlist has been updated to reflect this as well.

When I first made my blog and posted those stories, I was a very insecure writer. I did not think I was truly capable of writing or making a good story. I did those things out of insecurity and not feeling good enough. But as time went on, I began to create my own stories and realize that I can write if I put my mind to it. These are not excuses, only explanations. Nothing excuses my behavior.

If you want to defend me, that is your own choice. I ask that you do not though in terms of plagiarism because I ultimately did plagiarize and that is 100 percent wrong of me to do. But in terms of AI usage accusations, these are not true. I have never and never will use AI to write.

I have spent countless hours writing chapters for His Watchful Eye, pulled all nighters, and even lost sleep making this story. I have timestamps in google docs that show me editing and writing my own story. I didn’t even know AI had advanced to the point that you can write fully blown novels. But make no mistake, Ai checkers are not reliable. I had an incident in my first year of college where a paper I wrote got flagged for 77 percent ai generated content. That paper was written 100 percent by me over countless hours and still got flagged. It was a very scary time in my life and for that reason alone I will never use AI.

If you want to unfollow me, please do so. If you want to block me, please do so. I would never hold that against anyone and am not mad at anyone for doing so. Just don’t come in my anon box telling me to jump, don’t message me rude or disgusting messages telling me to die. I am a human, I am a real person behind the screen. What I did was wrong but you are no better telling someone to kill themselves. Please just block me.

All in all thanks for reading. If you unfollow, thanks for being here. If you don’t, thanks for being here. If you want to be removed from any taglists, please just message me. You will not be blocked. Just removed from any future taglists! I have vowed to only post 100 percent of my own content from here on out, so if you stay I can promise you will only be reading my own work.

I am no longer the insecure writer that I once was, I now know my abilities and am confident enough to make my own stories. I have a 240,000 word fic out right now, I genuinely am still shocked I have done that. Writing has become a joy for me and I will not stop now. I should’ve never been afraid to make mistakes or be bad at it. I’m sorry to the people I hurt, my readers, and anyone reading this in the future. I am still growing and learning from my mistakes, and this has been the biggest lesson I will never forget.

Plagiarism is wrong and hurts authors. If you are reading this and have done so as well, please rethink your decisions and take them down, just as I have done.

I love interacting with you all, when you send me asks and messages about HWE or any of my original single fics. It is amazing getting to explain stuff or gush with you guys over the things that I have truly written. I truly love being an author and want my future as one to be honest and communicative.

The comments on this will be monitored, but not restricted. Voicing your thoughts is okay as long as they are respectful and not a direct threat to me or anyone’s life. Questions are okay as well and I will answer to the best of my ability. Please no:

insulting me or any of the people mentioned in this post (manika, venus, zombie, etc)

death threats or suicide baiting anyone

I want this to be a mature and honest discussion, and that can’t happen if I allow such comments. Despite what has been said about or to me, I do not want to replicate any insults/drama on my own blog. You can voice your displeasure or opinions without name calling.

Same goes for any messages or anon box messages you all may send to anyone involved here. We are all real people with feelings. Keep that in mind please before you message anyone.

We all make mistakes. Without mistakes, we cannot grow as people. It’s what we do after we make those mistakes that truly attest to our character. And this is what I’ve chosen to do. Lay it all out for my readers and the rest of the LADS fandom to see, apologize to the people I hurt and only write my own stories from here on out. Thank you to the readers and friends who approached me with kindness and encouraged me to keep writing authentically. And thank you all for reading, I wish all of you the best in life 🤍

-Umi ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡

[mischievousmoony]

𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚎

𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟸 ⟡ 𝚓𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚜' 𝚐𝚒𝚛𝚕

⟢ james potter x fem!reader

⟢ summary: modern restaurant au; after training with james for a few weeks, people have started calling you his . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁1.3k

⟢ warnings/tags: coworker!james, coworker!marauders, slightly anxious!reader, not proofread

⟢ the new hire masterlist ⟡ main masterlist

note: i hate seafood but i keep putting it on my fictional restaurants menu ? kept this one pretty simple so i could get it out there <3

"Crab cakes, go." James says, eyes darting up from the menu he's holding to look at you from across the rickety staff room table.

You don't miss a beat, describing the dish as you would to a customer, "The crab cakes are one of our most popular appetizers. They're pan seared and served with sofrito escabeche, a zesty blend of onions, bell peppers, and tomatoes—so I highly recommend them if you're looking for something tangy—and they have a to die for berbere aioli drizzle."

"Tell me more about the berbere aioli. What is that?" James questions, playing the part of a curious customer.

"The berbere aioli is a spicy-chili sauce that I'd say is just shy of medium in terms of spice level. It complements the crab cakes really well, but you could always order it on the side if you're not too sure about it."

"That's my girl," James praises, "You're a quick learner, you know that?"

"I don't know about that," you protest, looking down at your hands that lay politely folded on the table in front of you. You try to mentally will yourself not to blush at James' approval.

"It's barely over a week since you started and you know this thing like the back of your hand," James argues, gently tossing the menu down as he leans back in his chair, "And there's so little time to sit and study here."

You have a funny look on your face when you meet James' eyes again, eliciting a gasp from him.

"You've been studying the menu outside of work, haven't you?" he squints, speaking in an accusatory tone.

"Shouldn't I?" you ask, and the fact that it's a genuine question has James clutching his chest over his heart.

"No! You never think about work unless you're getting paid!"

"How else am I supposed to learn this whole menu in a timely manner?" you cross your arms defensively.

"Who said anything about a timely manner, Love. I was weeks out of training before I had the whole thing down."

"Yeah, well you're more..." you trail off, trying to find the words.

"More what?" James is quick to sound defensive.

You put your hands up as a sign of innocence, "Just laid back. You're a go with the flow kind of guy. As opposed to me, who's more-"

James interjects, "Stuck in your head," nodding along without a doubt that that's what you were going to say.

You look at James, a bit of surprise and alarm swirling around in the pit of your stomach. He was spot on, but how could he possibly be? He barely knows you, after all.

"What?" James seems to sense your confusion, "I've noticed the turmoil in those eyes of yours. You're doing it right now."

You look bashful, so James graciously changes the subject.

"Whatever, just promise me you won't ever think about this place when you're off the clock again!"

"Promise," you agree, despite his request being impossible.

For whatever reason, your mind seems to always be on work. Not even in a stressed, overthinking way like you'd expect from yourself. It seemed to be little random tidbits from work infiltrating your mind throughout your days. Like sometimes, you randomly think of a joke James said once. Or you see something funny and want to show it to him. Or you think about how nice James is when you mess something up.

Okay, maybe they're not so random after all.

"What're you thinking about?" James interrupts your thoughts.

Just as you're about to start stammering through an excuse, Mary pops her head into the room.

"There you guys are!" she says, "I just sat you guys. Table six."

"Thanks, Mary. We'll be right there." James responds.

"I had Peter bring them some waters because I couldn't find you guys for a while—oh, he's back today by the way, did you know?" Mary asks, but doesn't stick around for James to answer, "I have to get back. Table six, guys!" Her voice echoes the reminder as she's already disappeared from your sights.

James shakes his head at her, amused by the way she jumps from one thing to the next without taking a breath.

"Peter?" you question as you and James begin to stand from the table.

"Yeah, he does bussing and some food running, a helping hand for us servers, really. He was on vacation." James explains as you follow him out into the dining room.

Your eyes fall on table six, a table for two that beholds two kind looking older ladies.

"You think you can handle this?" James juts his chin in their direction.

"Yeah," you say confidently. You have already taken the lead on some tables while James supervised. So far, it's been going well. Your first table you had to ask James to help answer some questions—maybe that's why you wanted to learn the menu so quick, it made you feel sheepish—but after that one time, James hasn't had any notes.

"Alright, I'm gonna check on our other tables then."

"Wait," you gave yourself whiplash with the way you craned your neck swiftly to look at him, "You meant handle it alone?"

"Yeah," James looks down at you reassuringly, his eyes filled with warmth, "You can do it."

"Uhh-? No, what if I-"

"Get out of that pretty little head of yours," he interrupts, "You've got this."

The sincerity in his tone incited a bit of confidence in you.

"Okay, okay. Okay sure," your shaky voice became a little more steady with each word, and you started walking to the table.

"Wait!" James carefully takes hold of your wrist. The progress you had made in easing your nerves is out the window.

"You'll need this," James slides his server book out from his apron and held it out to you.

"Right," you say quietly, smiling as you took it from him.

His hand fell from your wrist as he bid you good luck. He watches you for a moment as you greet the table, a proud gleam in his eyes.

Marlene appears beside James, a tray of waters and soft drinks balancing on her palm, "Your girl's taking orders on her own now?"

"Just the one table for today," James replies.

Marlene hums approvingly and saunters off to deliver the drinks.

James registers her words only when she's already left, "Wait, my who now?" he asks the wall.

His furrowed brows relax as he decides he kind of likes the sound of it.

After checking on your other tables, getting refills and putting new food orders in, James notices a congregation of his coworkers at the host stand so he decides to join in.

"Who's that?" Peter asks, swinging a rag over his shoulder.

Lily follows Peter's gaze to you, who's delivering some bread and butter to table six.

"James' girl?" Lily questions, "She started last week, she's been doing pretty well so far I think."

"Any reason in particular we're calling her that?" James decides to ask on his approach, having heard that phrase twice in under ten minutes.

"Ah, well, she hardly talks to anyone else." Marlene drawls.

"Eh, she's just a bit skittish," James provides an excuse for you, "it's kind of cute."

Lily and Mary share a look.

James continues, "She'll get used to you guys soon enough, just be nice." He really only says the last part to Marlene.

"I am nice," she defends.

"Well, you're not mean," Mary offers and Marlene scowls at her.

James chuckles, and turns to Peter, "How 'ave you been, mate?"

Peter opens his mouth to share details of his vacation, but he's interrupted.

"What are you all doing up here?" Nate hisses, appearing suddenly as if out of thin air, "You know how bad it looks for nearly my entire staff to be slacking off in the front of the restaurant?"

Before anyone can disperse or defend themselves, Nate continues, "And you're supposed to be training, Potter. Where's your girl?"

"Me?" your choked voice rings from behind him.

Everyone peers over at you, standing there shellshocked and blushing with a pitcher of water in your hands.

[secretress]

❝����𝐀𝐂: 𝐈 𝐚𝐦 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈 𝐚𝐦 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐟 𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐠𝐨 𝐨𝐟 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐬 𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬.❞

What do you have to let go of in order to achieve your dream life?

🗝 ݁₊ ⊹ . 🕷 ⚉ Masterlist Subliminal Channel Tips

‧₊˚ 🕸 ⋅♡🪡 ⚉ 18+ Readings Paid Readings Tarot Services

Pac summary !

𓆣 Detailed.

𓆣 What do you have to let go?

𓆣 How has it been affecting you?

𓆣 How do you let go?

Moodboard | Divider

Pile I.

(Trigger warning: faint mentions of su!cide).

What do you have to let go?

X of cups reversed.

Your pile is slightly tricky since this is a general reading, though my intuition tells me you must let go of the relationship you have with your future and past selves. You truly believe your past self was and is right about everything. You follow their mentality: thoughts, beliefs, and their behaviors, etc. You believe that your future self will mess up everything and have started to disregard their feelings about this. This pile has a lot of intuitive people, and in your future you see prosperity, abundance, genuine love, and everything that one person could desire, yet you keep discrediting your future self’s achievements and believe your past self is the one that obtained these. You also have been neglecting your present self and invalidating your feelings because it doesn’t fit your standards of who you are supposed to be or were. Your past self was able to help you get here, but it is your present self that is holding the stance, and it will be your future self that helps you achieve your goal. As long as you keep doing this negative cycle of insulting your future self, you will keep straining the friendship with yourself and question why everything is going wrong. Don’t allow yourself to be your own enemy, and then expect kindness from yourself. An enemy would never show kindness to their enemy without seeking something, and you are doing the same to yourself. Do not invalidate your feelings just because you have them now. Do not play victim with yourself whenever something negative occurs and go running to the same person that is playing you and making you feel worthless. Don’t do it.

You are making it harder to achieve your dream life and embody your desired self. Why crave something with all of your heart but push it away at every opportunity that comes? Why make it harder for yourself when you know damn well that you can make your desires a reality with a change of thought? What makes self-sabotage so special to you that you believe it is something that you deserve? You hide the smallest things from yourself—the smallest—it’s not necessary to keep straining the relationship with yourself. You are not this toxic person, you are your own person. Stop believing they are right when they are not. They’re an ass! Truly.

I know that you believe your past self is the embodiment of perfection; they were very confident, they had everything wanted, they could say no within seconds without shying away, without looking back, their mindset was a godsend and everyone would die to have it, they always strive for the best, but they are not here anymore, and that is not who you are anymore. Stop changing who you are right now, and allow yourself to naturally become them again. Forcing yourself to be a certain way and expecting to embody them within seconds is what is causing you so much stress that you feel su!cidal. My intuition says—take this into your heart and hold it dear because it’s something that you must understand. My intuition says, ‘’if you keep filling a hollow cup that has punctured holes on the bottom, hidden from its user, you will allow yourself to feel frustrated wondering why it is not filling up. It is a half empty cup, a cup that was always going to be hollow, something that cannot be fixed unless you create a new one. But that new one cannot be fixed overnight, it takes time and effort for it to manifest. If one were to pressure the one who created the cup, they would stress out and take a longer time to make it. Those stressful thoughts will cause despair and shame, as it buries them in insecurities as they hold onto those expectations from their client; something that is simply impossible even if it was done by a master from this field. So do not become this client to yourself when you know well you cannot embody them anymore.’’

How has it been affecting you?

Page of swords reversed, chains, justice reversed.

You are already aware of how this has been affecting you mentally. People have been feeding off of your energy like a vampire, and you feel drained constantly. A lot of you have wondered if there is something wrong, perhaps it's a lack of nutrients or iron issues, and for the rest, you have asked your family what is going on and taken their advice, but nothing has been working. The people feeding off your energy are causing you this confusion, thus making you struggle to accept when better opportunities come your way. I see a vision where someone from the noble family, primarily a prince with gold flowers on his jacket’s material, opens up an envelope from a desired place. The desired place is vague without a specific area. When they were opening up the envelope, all of their beautiful emotions were forcefully pushed into a dirty jar as it got sealed, and he could not get it back, leaving him with the unwanted emotions he buried away for so long. These emotions used to bury him in quicksand, and each time he tried to get out, he would sink deeper, and finally, one day, he allowed it to only for him to realize this isn’t where he wanted to be. But in this situation, his negative emotions came back to haunt him because he never healed from it. This vision is subjective, and each of you has a different place or want about something, yet you have not healed from your past, and now it is haunting you. You have a lot of overwhelming emotions, and you are slowly but surely pushing away the positive emotions because you fear they will be the ones you cannot stand. You are struggling to understand which emotions are right to feel and what is not. In short, you cannot feel anymore, everything is gray for you. Becoming your own blockage has made it easier for you to feel something, but has made it harder for you to become your dream self. Why disappoint yourself to feel something? Truly, what have you gained from it? You have lost so much. You lost trust in yourself. You have allowed others to break promises with you, telling them it is okay and then allowing them to do it again. You sabotaged job opportunities; you let yourself fail as you were held back for a year or another semester, yet you are such a hard working person. You (some) have let your ex cheat on you with a friend encouraging it, thinking that it’s okay just to feel, and (some) you allowed people to harm you for shits and giggles just to feel.

You are feeling these negative emotions because you started to get high from negativity and ruining your mindset, so no, these emotions and thoughts are not validated. And you must change these thoughts, or you will fall so painfully hard that you will lose yourself in the progress. Sabotaging your future self is cruel; they are NOT your enemy, they are your friend. Stop sabotaging your FUTURE self and your present self and then believing it is okay. It’s not, and these will not be validated by me.

To become your own enemy, to ruin opportunities for growth and self-improvement, is another type of cruelty that one would not wish upon someone else despite it all. To have that much hatred for someone you do not know and then complain about not getting where you want to be is another type of incompetence. To keep lying to yourself about things that will never happen, to cause stress and fear upon yourself just to laugh at yourself, is so cruel and morbid. How can you believe that is okay? To have such an elegant and beautiful energy, to now for it become the opposite of that: a disturbing energy. This is a whole new level of wow. Not the good wow, the wow of embarrassment. Originally, as I channeled your reading, I thought the energy vampire was someone else, yet it is you with yourself since all you do is torment yourself and get off on it. You do not do any of your work, you do not speak to your friends (not anymore since everything went to shit), you do not do anything, you barely cook for yourself, you just sabotage your present self and future self, and that’s it. You are the joker, but with yourself, and this is not okay and it never will be. It’s disgusting energy, and get mad at me as much as you would like to, but you came for a reading, and you are getting an honest one. Let’s keep going. Please take this reading to heart and heal for the better.

Moving on. You need to go back into your past and understand what led you to this. What caused you so much pain that you believed that in order to do better and be better, you must cause yourself pain. Shame keeps popping up in my mind. What decisions did you make in your past that have you so much regret that you hate yourself this much? What or who caused you so much for this to repeat in the same cycle? Healing a bit and then sabotaging yourself, going back to the same cycle, and then feeling su!cidal again. The word “shame,” is shaking around, chaotically spreading around in my mind. Your energy is so off-putting, not for me or anyone else, just for yourself. A vision appeared where someone (you) is stuck in a circus trap where wild animals are usually held, and the headmaster or headmistress is shaking a gold bell to the person, saying they are a failure, a shameful mistake, and a useless c*nt. Intuition tells me this owner is and was a friend or a current lover of yours that always made fun of you and gradually made you believe the lies from their tongue, hence the golden bell. Sometimes these bells can indicate control over someone, and the same person follows through and obeys. The same can be said here.

This is why I said your pile is tricky, there are two parties. Those who dealt with a friend and the other, a current lover. Nonetheless, follow along because this could make sense at the end, even if it doesn’t resonate yet.

Having vulnerability in a relationship can become nerve-wracking; you do not know if the other person is going to hurt your feelings, or use you as a means to an end. Other times, the idea of saying the truth can be scary and the thought of fabricating is easier, but as you keep lying like this to yourself and with others, you create a deeper rabbit hole for yourself. Not because you forget what you have lied about, but because you cause a drift and ruin the perception you have of yourself and who you associate yourself with. It doesn’t matter who you hang out with or date; you will always sabotage yourself because you ruined your perception of who you are. Meaning, you can no longer be vulnerable with yourself because you are used to lying and manipulating yourself, giving yourself hope and then ruining it for yourself—all of this has created a ball of emptiness, thus causing you to lose your emotions that you have been longing for. The only person to blame is yourself now. You have to take responsibility to become better for your younger self that dealt with that friend, or now and leave that current lover of yours. I feel like a part of you (everyone here), wants to genuinely heal, but fears linger in your mind, and cutting that cord scares you shitless. Letting go and not having those emotions is nagging you, and you feel like it’s better to have them than be empty. But sometimes, it is better to feel nothing than to lie to yourself to feel something. You do not gain anything from it.

How do you let go?

Reversed III of wands.

You must allow yourself to let go. Often, we allow others to control us, forgetting that we can control many things. In this case, you can control yourself to stop nitpicking and shaming your present and future self. Allow yourself to have your needs met and show yourself that it is okay to allow your path to go another way. Knowing that your past self cannot control you any longer and that it is time to let go. Allow your mind to be a waterfall, and imagine all the thoughts and trauma you cause yourself to be pushed away into that jar, just as the vision I saw with the prince. But rather this time, it’s the negativity that has engulfed your precious mind. And as you push these thoughts within that jar, allow the peaceful ones to come back within, and show appreciation that you did not do. And remember that the past cannot be undone as much as you want it to be, but that is also the beauty of life. Because now you are mindful of the decisions you make for yourself, and you now have a chance to do better and be better, but in a healthy way. Letting go may be hard, but doing it now as you read this is much better than never doing it—you may need time, and you may have to let go in baby steps, yet it is far better than not doing it. The gold flowers that were on the prince's jacket's fabric were an indication of your heart before all of this concurred. Having a gold heart to devote to those you care for is not an ill thing, it’s beautiful when it is well taken care of. Yet this time, do not make the same mistake, instead.. show that heart to yourself and let it engulf you so you can bring happiness back to yourself. And to become your dream self while learning what your dream life will be in the near future.

Masterlist

Pile II.

What do you have to let go?

The hanged man reversed, IX of swords, and the VII of cups.

Your pride. I believe this pile is self-explanatory. Even cutting it short, right here, you would already know what I am talking about. But I will get down to the deeper aspects of your pride, the ones you hide away with deadly vines that drown their prey for the fun of it.

Your mind is your escape palace, each time something triggering reappears, you allow yourself to dissociate from the world and stay in your inner world. In a way, you are always on autopilot and struggling to balance staying in reality and staying in the clouds has worsened. Now, you have started to feel fake, as if this is not your body and who you are. You are lost in your own fantasy that you have caused yourself—an addiction that has been challenging to leave. Your pride is another factor in this fantasy. It has caused you shame for even acting upon this fantasy, as you have always been someone who prided themselves on being better and never falling for something as this. Always made fun of others, and now life has bitten you.

Pride can either be our greatest ally or our greatest foe, and before all of this occurred, it was your best friend, yet now it’s out of tune with your goals and the life you dream of. It sees you as prey that it must devour, and you are letting it be. The IV of swords indicates troubles on fears, doubts, guilt, and worries; all the overwhelming emotions that you have been walking on eggshells around. These have become your new normal, but you have forgotten what it's like to feel peace surrounding your heart. My intuition tells me you must let go of your pride and learn to embrace this new addiction of yours. Learn to use this escape routine in something safe. Meaning, a lot of you daydream and douse yourself in different fantasy worlds of who you are and what you have there, yet your personality is always the same. Use those skills on figuring out what dream life you like to obtain and manifesting it into your reality. Take time in creating a realistic world and figuring out who you desire to be, what job you want, and what fashion you truly crave, and if you cannot find it, then learn to sew and make clothes for it to come. Do not be afraid to learn something new and find a new hobby. Allow yourself to engage in this world and the world you will create about this realistic world, and you will gradually see no reason to escape into that fantasy world of yours.

How has it been affecting you?

VI of wands reversed, the sun and III of wands reversed.

It has been causing you to feel overwhelmed to the point where you have been struggling to keep up with your daily life. Some things that feel real have started to submerge you into your fantasy. You struggle to figure out what is real and what isn’t. I keep hearing that some of you have depersonalization-derealization disorder, and some of you struggle with hallucinations. Some type of disorder has it, but I cannot be specific about it because there are too many disorders that are popping up as I channel this. A lot of you have started to hate yourself about it and would rather give up on life and let it be. Your pride is still truly your enemy, as VI of wands reversed speaks about it.

I have already said this pile is rather self-explanatory, but with the sun, you keep ignoring your struggles to be something small when it is not. You keep invalidating how you feel and believe it is better to be this resilient person who does not face struggles. Mind you, you are human, you are allowed to feel. It is okay to cry and feel those struggles, and it is truly okay to let loose and feel your emotions. But once you feel okay, and truly embrace those feelings, let it go, and get your ass back up and find solace in your desires that you create through these worlds you create and make it in your reality. Stop allowing your pride and fantasy ideals to take over and make you someone you are not. You are not this lazy person that you have idolized yourself to be; hell, you are not this evil person you think that you are, you have always been sweet and mind you it is okay to show compassion. It is not a disgusting feeling. Do not become your own setback and believe this it—this is your last resort and you cannot do much afterwards. Do not fall into this loophole of despair and think that is okay. Would you prefer it in the future that being in the same place you are as of now is your future, or will you do everything in YOUR power to change your reality?

How do you let go?

Let go of the idolized version from fear that you created so you can never change and make your desires into your reality. A lot of people create idolized versions of themselves to either daydream about (this is your case), and others do it to BECOME them. Which one sounds more appealing?

I keep asking you the same thing because you keep brushing them away. Which one would you truly have? What kind of future do you want? Don’t you want to have those fantasy worlds of yours come to life? Anything is truly possible, I know that it doesn’t seem to be the case, but it is. If you allow yourself to make your dream life come to you instead of pushing it away because you are not ready, then you can never have what you want. I know that shame can eat us alive to the point where those emotions rot in our flesh and cause delays throughout our hearts, but it is also important to recognize that this is your life and it is time to let go of this ‘’you,’’ and embark on the real you that has been cast away because of despair. So, I ask again, and please answer this one honestly. Who do you desire to be, what is your future like, and what do you want your dream life to be like? Only you and you alone can make your life change. Change cannot happen without you and your thoughts alone. How do you desire your thoughts to be? Would you like to change your pitiful thoughts and make them into positive ones like, “I am deserving of change. I allow change within my heart and let go of the old me that does not align with my dreams. I am free, and I have let go of all that ached my heart. Freedom is my destiny, and I am deserving of all of the beauty that comes from life.’’ Allow my intuitive words to heal your heart and make your life better. The things you desire cannot happen instantly, that is not realistic, and that is okay. Be consistent with these words and see the magic appear.

The tower.

I felt like something was missing and yet it was. Stop hiding the desires you actually have and remind yourself it is okay to crave them. Some of you crave genuine friendships, and the rest of you crave to love another but have been hurt to the point of no return. Listen to me, okay? It is genuinely okay to crave them. I understand that you have always done everything alone and believe you are destined for that, and maybe you are if you do not change your thoughts, but as I said, change cannot happen unless you change. But my intuition tells me the desires you crave are what are supposed to happen as you gradually become comfortable with better thoughts that make your day brighter. You are supposed to wake up in the morning without stressful and unwanting thoughts; you are supposed to smile randomly to yourself, and you are supposed to feel so much peace surrounding your heart. This is not because you change, this is because this has been part of your journey. Meaning, this has already been written down for you from the start, whether you believe in these or not.

Masterlist.

Pile III.

What do you have to let go?

VI of wands reversed, II of cups, VII of cups, and the lovers.

It is time to move on from the love that you are mourning. They do not and did not care for you as you did with them. I understand putting all the love you had for them did not manifest in the way you desired, but as you keep mourning, you allow your life to be stagnant. No change is coming in your direction, and there is a lack of balance in your heart. What they have done to you is not your fault; do not allow them to take over and make you believe that you were the devil. You are a beautiful rose that has fallen on the floor, hidden from the world, but it is time for you to come back and be seen. Allow yourself to gain the confidence that was stolen by them and rejoiced. It’s not wrong for you to move on and become happier for yourself. Those words that came from them as you both broke up were mere lies. They wanted you to keep thinking about them, and they wanted you to never move on. But is that what you still want? For your life to be on pause as everything else around you keeps moving forward?

I see a scene where a beautiful fallen angel is being thrown by “God” down onto earth, where their once light illuminating skin is transformed into nothing but gray skin and black hair. No shining light surrounds them, it is as if they are forgotten. This is your energy, and that “God” was your ex. They were not your grace, and they never were as much as you wanted to believe. It is time for you to let go and find your illuminated light once more. Stop allowing your what-ifs to cause you doubt about the truth; you already know that they did not care for you, so why do you still care for them? Still desire their love, devotion, validation, and care? Do you not have any self-respect for yourself? Learn to seek them from within and learn to heal the hole in your heart so you can learn to appreciate the special lover coming to you after you heal. Your dream life is creating a beautiful family with a special person and finding solace so you can both work together—to find someone who desires the same workplace and where you can speak all night long about the same subject. Allow your mind to come up with different possibilities about how your life can become beautiful instead of the negative what-ifs. It is causing your mind stress and making it hard for you to let go of this nonexistent loss. They were not the loss, you were. You have lost yourself for this person who does not deserve you. And they have lost someone who had the most mesmerizing heart that would light up anyone’s dreadful days. Become this angel for yourself again.

My love, your last card is the lovers. This was closed off for me before I checked your last card. The lovers is such a beautiful card and is your proof that this person will come only if you heal. Do not force the healing, allow it to come naturally. You must heal yourself, do not damage them as you have done to yourself. Learn to treat yourself with compassion, delicacy, and care. Some of you believe in God but have lost your ways because of them ruining your faith for their sake. Go back to the religion that you once loved and embodied it. It is not wrong to go back and appreciate the religion that gave you peace nor is it wrong to have one. The person whom is coming is absolutely mesmerizing, their heart is like gold and reminds me of those romantic movies that make any person swoon. Their love will make you fully believe you are worthy of natural and soft love. If I were to say it, you would not believe me, nor would you believe your loved ones. That is why you must say it to yourself first and then allow them to say the same.

How has it been affecting you?

Ten of cups.

I have already written how it has been affecting you, however, with the ten of cups this is simply a stronger indication about the beautiful love that will engulf you on a beautiful journey. Ten of cups indicate a fairytale ending with lots of happiness and freedom. The ending of Cinderella keeps coming to my mind and that is the same love that will come to you. This love is so refreshing, I cannot say anymore because it is for you to find out and for me to keep hidden.

How do you let go?

You just have, have you not? I felt your energy shift as I shuffled the ten of cups. You felt the same, did you not? You already knew of this person but needed the confirmation. So, allow me to write you a letter instead.

Dear you,

I am rather proud of you for letting go as you read this pile. To let go that quickly without causing pain to yourself or allowing the doubts to creep in—to allow yourself the freedom you sought for so long and to see this and tell yourself it is time to let go. It is so beautiful and so heartwarming to see. I do not know you personally, nor may I ever, and the same goes for you with me, but if I did, I would hug you, cup your cheeks, and look into your eyes as I whisper that I am proud of you. I cannot explain properly how proud I am of you, but hopefully you can tell by my energy, or perhaps from the texting style of my words? I hope that when this person comes, not only will it truly be a fairytale ending, but that you look back in your past where you were hopeless and broken by your ex—that you wish that your past self a thank you for moving forward despite it all and getting far as where you are right now. And to always remember them by the things they enjoyed before it was ruined by the image of your ex and instead of disgust now, it is something to be cherished. I truly hope you find peace each day moving forward, and I hope love comes to you in unexpected ways.

Yours truly,

Sefina.

Masterlist.

Pile IV.

What do you have to let go?

Ace of cups, and the fool reversed.

I know that you are happy with the new relationship that has started for you. That you finally found the right person for you who treats you with love and admiration. You believe this is your new beginning, but this is what you must let go. This person is not your new beginning, they are the pain.

They will cause you so much pain that you will feel fear, the same fear that I feel as I channel for you. Love bombing keeps appearing on my mind, this is a manipulation tactic, and some of you have already noticed when they lie but brush it off. You have been hurt so many times and you believe, or have manipulated your mind to believe this person is your future spouse from the endless amount of love piles you read. But they aren't, and they will be your demise. They will leave you with so much unwanted baggage that it will be hard to let go and may lead you to want to let your demons win. A lot of you have tried letting go of this connection in a dream, you keep seeing the same person in your dream. You know them, but you do not at the same time, some type of placebo effect appears to my mind.

Think of a one-sided relationship where a person puts all of this love imaginable, and the same person does the same. But as the relationship evolves, one of them starts to feel resentment for the other, and those feelings add up into a ball of energy, and eventually they harm their lover so they can get rid of those feelings. But it does not work and they still feel hatred. The same can be said for you and this person. It is time to let go of someone who resents you. You did not know them or know them well, but they have been keeping tabs on you and want to make it to the finish line—the finish line being your downfall. I get stalkerish vibes from them. Be careful.

Confirmation: the fool reversed.

The fool reversed in tarot cards indicates chaos, being naïve, trusting the wrong person, being stupid or engaging in stupid and reckless decisions, and having poor judgement. As I said, this person was giving me stalkerish vibes and the same can be said here. I also hear murderous, or an ex-killer. I feel dread around my heart, and I advise you to be very very careful when breaking up with them and to have someone who can protect you to be with you.. please. I keep hearing a dad, so perhaps, if you are close with him, have your father, and if not, a male figure. It will intimidate the person and trigger childlike fear for them (that is, for you to be able to break it out safely).

How has it been affecting you?

VII of pentacles, page of wands, and ace of cups.

It has been mentally exhausting you. On one hand, you know that they have been off-putting, but this is deep within your heart. That part where you cannot allow yourself to be vulnerable. And on the other hand, you are the fool reversed—too trusting for your own good. You cannot trust someone who makes you question the idea of love and if it is a good thing, even if it’s a thought you keep brushing away. And you cannot always be the one putting all the energy into a relationship, always taking the blame for their wrongdoings, and believing that you are the one causing a crime. That is not what a healthy relationship would look like.

This also has been affecting you as they have been triggering you. You have been wondering why you act a certain way with others, and with them, it is almost like you are another person. Someone who bows down for them instantly, but this is not you nor what a relationship should look like. A healthy relationship helps you grow, makes you believe you are worthy of love and care, heals you, makes you feel like an angel, challenges you in a healthy manner, works together to overcome challenges, and allows your childlike nature to escape and feel happiness. You have not felt that once with them, and if you have, you either were gaslighted by them or manipulated yourself for their sake.

You need to talk to someone you trust with all your might about this. A lot of you are already stressed out about them and this toxic relationship of yours. Some of you are already doubting what I am saying to you, and that is fine, but at the same time, this person will say the same but in a different approach because they know you better than I. You got the ace of cups once more.. that is your confirmation once again. These doubts that you have must be let go, and you must take action on them. The energy is so toxic that I had to take a break because I did not want to do your reading. As you already know, I am rather honest, but this pile hurt me internally. Not because there is anything wrong with you in this situation, no, but because of what you are going through and how this so called lover is with you. A part of me simply doesn’t want to keep writing this, just like another part of you wants me to lie and say they are an angel; they are this and they are that, but that would be a lie and I simply would never atone for that. Another part of me is writing it so you can be safe, and that is the part of you that you keep pushing away as said before. You must understand they are not good for you, end of story, my dear.

How do you let go?

Trust your gut feeling and understand those thoughts that arise about them. One of your parts already knows they are not a good person, yet you will not do anything about it. You cannot let go because of the fear and tight relationship they have with you. I see an image of someone choking someone as their legs are not touching the ground. Do not be that person to believe that you can fix this person and they will treat you with love, they are not. They are awful for a reason, and you already know this reason. Your gut feelings know and you keep ignoring it.

III of cups and queen of wands reversed.

Right now, you are struggling to trust yourself about them, and in the beginning of this reading, I spoke about a father and, if not, a male figure. The person you trust most is a male figure, so speak to them about this and learn to trust their words. You also need to learn to have confidence and respect for yourself before you break up. I see you breaking up with them before gaining those, and it doesn’t work out for you.

Masterlist.

[after-witch]

Damn Your Eyes [Chapter One] [Yandere Ren Hana x Reader]

Title: Damn Your Eyes [Chapter One: The Last Day] [Yandere Ren Hana x Reader]

Synopsis: Years ago, you were the captive of a serial killer named Strade. And you weren't the only one he kept. After Strade was killed by one of his victims, you ran away--and now your past is finally catching up with you. Chapter one is set during Boyfriend to Death.

Word count: 6352

Chapter notes: Yandere, kidnapped reader, past noncon, graphic violence, descriptions of blood, violence and gore, descriptions of death (not reader)

AO3 LINK

She was crying again. Well, no wonder. There were holes in her feet, dotting the top of her thighs. Blood had dribbled down from the gored holes in her flesh like little streams, then dried out. 

The thin, wavy dried out trickles made you think, abruptly, of unfettered period blood, then of Carrie by Stephen King. The scene in the shower, where she gets her period and freaks out. The other girls threw tampons and sticky pads at her and shrieked, chanting, bonded by a morbid commiseration of the entrance to so-called womanhood: Plug it up! Plug it up! Plug it up!

Plug it up, you thought.

But she couldn’t, even if she wanted to. Her hands were bound behind her. Did he tie them back like that so that she couldn’t try to hurt him, or because it gave him easier access to her flesh? Maybe a bit of both.

She looked uglier when she cried. Snot bubbled out of her nose and joined a dried streak of blood that went from her nose down to her chin. Her nose was probably broken, hence the blood; the flesh of it was black and blue and an awful shade of green.

One part of you longed to retrieve an ice pack from the freezer and hold it to the bruised, swollen flesh. Hush her cries. Give her an ounce of humanity that might carry her for another few hours, the way Ren once did to you. 

Another part of you, the new you forged under Strade’s knife (and boots and hammers and power drill) wished she’d just die already, so you wouldn’t have to hear her cry or be standing here obediently, waiting for Strade to come back down. You were probably going to have to participate in this next stream–why else would he call you down in the middle of one of his “projects”? 

Unless he was lonely. But even so, he could always kill two birds with one stone. You, here to give him company; and you, here to entertain his horrid audience. And himself, above all. Himself, always.

 The basement door at the top of the stairs creaked open and you heard his heavy bootsteps–thump, thump, thump–before he called out jovially.

“Are you still there, Liebling? You didn’t run off, did you?” 

As if you were stupid enough to do that. You were many things now. Stressed. Afraid. Desperate. Tired. More selfish. Maybe a little bit masochistic, a trick of your brain to keep you from totally losing your mind as you were tortured. All these things and more besides, but stupid was not one of them. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it!” You called back, lightening your tone. It was important not to sound too scared. Strade wanted you scared, yes, but he didn’t want you to be some obedient, squeaky little mouse. That was too boring. It was best to act as normally as you could, considering the circumstances. That seemed to please him more, at least on most days. Some days nothing you did was right and you went to bed with a swollen eye and broken fingers, eased by frozen peas that Ren snuck you from the kitchen before he went to sleep. 

You’re not the only one who noticed him coming down. The woman in front of you began to tremble and sob more violently, pulling at her bound wrists. It wouldn’t do any good. It never did. How long did she have to live? How long did any of you in this house have to live? 

By the time Strade made it down the stairs, her cries were practically at a fever-pitch. You didn’t want to look to see what he’d run off to fetch, but he didn’t give you a choice.

He called your name. “Come here, darling, I need your help with this.” And oh, you kept your eyes downcast until all you could see was his boots. But then it was time to look up, and you did, and no matter how many times you witnessed him preparing to torture another person, it still made your stomach roil.

He’d brought down a p[ot of boiling water, which he carefully held by the handle with both hands. Tucked underneath his armpit was the bag of frozen peas. The bag, you thought, because for as long as you’d been here, no one ever cooked them. They got passed around between you and Ren under cover of night.

Here they were, in the light of day. You suspect you wouldn’t want to re-use them after this. 

“Be my Lamm and take the peas, won’t you?” The sensible part of you eyed him warily; it wouldn’t be below him to toss the pot of boiling water at you while you reached for them, just to fuck with you. But you didn’t disobey him, either. You carefully leaned over and slid the bag from underneath his armpit, and held it in your hand.

He smiled. Grinned, really, which was a bad sign for the sobbing woman tied to the pole. His good moods and bad moods were both equally shitty, but in your unfortunately well-experienced opinion, it was his good moods that produced the most painful scenarios.

“Now!” He crouched down in front of the crying woman and grabbed her chin. She shrieked and tried to jerk her face away, but he held her tight. “I’m sure your wounds are sore, aren’t they?” She sobbed out something–meaningless pleading that you’d long since lost the ability to discern–and he tsked.

“Oh, poor thing. I know just what might help!” He snapped his fingers and looked back at you. “My lovely friend here will give you some ice to help you feel better. Won’t you?” He grinned wider and you nodded, feeling both scared and numb in a confusingly equal measure, as you crouched down next to him.

She yelped when you placed the frozen bag on a group of puncture wounds on her thigh, but you held it fast. It probably hurt more than it soothed. An icy bag right up against wounded skin didn’t sound pleasant. But maybe it would numb it a little. That might be better than nothing. 

“Perfect! Now…” He reached over and picked up the steaming pot of water, still bubbling from its boil on the stove. “Hold still, my Lamm… wouldn’t want to splash you.” 

It was so strange, the way that your time with Strade had made it possible for you to actually keep your hand there, despite the fact that you knew he was about to pour boiling water on the skin of this poor woman. Pour it right where it would surely splash on you a little, if not a lot. Probably a lot. Two birds, one stone, and all that.

It didn’t matter if it was strange. Your fingers flexed and your muscles tensed as you saw him turn the pot over slowly, and steaming water came flying down, pouring over the woman’s wounds.

She screamed. It was loud. It hurt your ears. The irritation of it distracted you from seeing Strade move the pot around so that the water trailed over the frozen peas–and your hand keeping it pressed against her–as he covered her thigh in the water.

“Fuck!” You said, biting your cheek hard. Your fingers danced on the bag but you didn’t dare pull away. You could see your own skin turning a shade of red. Her thighs had taken the brunt of it, though. There were even blisters forming on her skin already as she sobbed and cried and begged for someone, anyone, to help her.

You were someone.  You were anyone.

You couldn’t help her.

“Language, liebchen,” Strade said, teasingly. You mumbled out an apology, although you doubt he actually cared. 

He sighed when the pot was emptied, and tossed it on the floor.

“I don’t know… I just don’t think it’s enough. Do you?” He grasped your burned hand and you couldn’t stifle the sound of yelping pain as he gripped it hard. Your skin would blister too–it was already peeling a little. 

“What…whatever you think is best,” you stammered. 

“That’s right,” he said, grinning. He gave your hand a squeeze and you groaned. “I think I’ll work a little more on this project myself before dinner.” He let your fingers go, and you cradled your hand against your chest. “Have Ren take care of that. Come back down when it’s wrapped up.” his free hand grabbed the chin of the sobbing, bleeding, blistered woman again. “I think we’ll make a movie, and I need my prettiest co-star to help me out.”

“Of course.” You gave her one half-pitiful glance–the way her frightened, bloodshot eyes darted to you with a mixture of anger and pity made you want to hurl–and went up the stairs.

By the time you’d made it to the top, you already heard Strade pulling out his video equipment.

—

“It… doesn’t look too bad,” Ren said quietly. He held your hand underneath the sink, letting the cold water soothe your burn. But every time your hand trembled and the stream went just out of reach, it burned again, and you winced.

“Most of it hit her thigh,” you whispered. Though you didn’t need to, since both of you were well aware that Strade was busy in the basement. Old habits die hard, however. “She got it worse.”

Ren hummed. “They usually do.” He told you to keep your hand in place while he fumbled in the cabinet under the sink, looking for supplies. “I don’t know if he has–oh!” His ears twitched and perked up as he found what he’d been looking for.

It was a tube of burn relief ointment. He flipped it over and read the back, mumbling all the while. “It’s expired but…”

You smiled, just a little, and finished his sentence for him.

“Better than nothing, right?”

Ren smiled, and you caught sight of his tail curling behind him as he turned off the sink and told you to sit down on the toilet so she could wrap you up.

Was it wrong that some of the most pleasant moments in this house, if you could call them pleasant, were with Ren? Especially quiet moments like this, where he took care of you, or you took care of him. You were both well acquainted with fixing up the results of your time with Strade by now. 

He’d cleaned out deep cuts on your back, and you’d iced and splinted his broken toes. He let you curl up in his nest of a bed after a particularly awful night of torture, and you let him slide under your covers when he’d had an nightmare about the last time Strade made him kill someone.

It was transactional in some ways, you supposed. But when you saw his ears perk up or his tail swoosh or the way his eyes seemed to light with something genuine behind them while you talked with him, you realized it wasn’t all practical. It couldn’t be. Not when you were in this together.

Ren made quick work of bandaging your hand. The cream was smoothed over the reddened, flaking parts of your skin and he wrapped your hand up with a bandage. It hurt, still, but nothing to write home about. Hah! As if you’d ever be allowed to write home.

Hell, if by some miracle  you could write home, how would you even word the letter? 

“Dear mom and dad, last night my captor-who-also-fucks me made me keep my hand on a table while he hammered nails underneath my fingernails and asked me which one hurt the most. P.S. The milk in the fridge is expired and he’s threatening to make me or Ren drink it because of the waste.”

The thought made you snort. Ren looked up from his spot on the floor, where he’d taken to impromptu digging through the cabinet to look for some undisclosed item. 

“What’s funny?”

You mulled it over. Sometimes, you didn’t like to tell Ren what you were thinking. You trusted him, to an extent. You liked him, to an extent. You were friends, to an extent. How far did that extent go? It depended. 

He was here first, and sometimes, the tension between the two of you was too taut and fraught to ignore. There was always that underlying worry, an electric buzz you couldn’t turn off all the way: what if Strade decided he didn’t want two captives? Or what if he felt two was his limit, and he wanted to bring someone new in?

Which one of you would get the ax–literally?

But this was maybe not the type of thing that Ren might murmur to Strade in a moment of weakness. It was harmless, wasn’t it, to make a joke about writing home?

“I was just imagining what I might write home in a letter to my parents.” You flexed your bandaged hand. “I mean, if we were allowed to write home.”

“Like from a summer camp?” Ren asked. He pulled his knees up and rested his chin on them. 

“I guess,” you replied, smiling a little. “Although this would be one…” Fucked up, disgusting, hellish– “Specialty summer camp.”

Ren snorted a little. “Definitely not like the ones in movies.”

“Maybe horror movies,” you added with a grin. One of your front teeth–not from the center two, thank hell–was missing now, so you rarely grinned. But it felt different when it was just you and Ren alone. It was okay to let him see those imperfections, because he had them too. Maybe not missing teeth, but…

“Sleepaway Camp!” He blurted. “Or Friday the 13th…” 

You started to open your mouth, ready to tell him that you once saw a screening of the first Friday the 13th at a summer camp, when an all-too-familiar sound came wafting up from the cracked open basement door.

“Liebling! It doesn’t take that long to bandage a little burn! I hope I don't have to come get you.”

Ren’s tail went straight up at the sound of Strade’s voice. The sing-song nature of his words did not hide the danger in them. If you had a tail, yours would be standing stock straight too. But your body had to make do with your muscles tensing and your bowels clenching hard.

“I have to go,” you murmured, hopping off the toilet seat. 

You paused in the doorway. Ren had his knees hugged to his chest, his ears flat against his head. No doubt he was wondering if Strade would call him down, too. Or if he’d be pissed off about something and take it out on Ren later.

“Thanks for patching me up, Ren.” His ears twitched, and he glanced up at you. “Really, I mean it.” You smiled–grinned, showing off one of your missing teeth. “I’m glad you’re here with me.”

His tail relaxed a little and he smiled back, an almost puppy-like grin crossing his expression for a moment, and it was enough to give you some vague emotional relief as you left the bathroom before Strade was forced to come up the stairs and retrieve you. 

–

She wouldn’t last another day. That much was clear. Her blood was everywhere now. On the floor. Smeared on her skin. On Strade’s hands–on yours.

Of course he’d made you participate. You were his lovely assistant, after all. Although he always said Ren was better at the work, when it came down to it. You were too prone to trembling and hesitation. To say nothing of your occasional habit of vomiting at the sight of anything more than blood–guts, in particular, were your weakness. 

Hers, too, by the way she quivered at the sight of the large hunting knife Strade twirled in his hands.

“I think this has gone on long enough. Don’t you, Schatz?” He looked back at you with a thoughtful smile. “Shall we end it?”

Without thinking much, you nodded. Yes, it had gone on long enough. Yes, you wanted her to just die already. Yes, you wanted to go over to the sink and scrub your hands until they were pruney and wrinkled and there was no trace of her visceral fluids on your skin.

“Go on,” he told you, gesturing at the trembling woman. Covered in cuts and gouges and burns. Where there had been dried blood earlier today, there were now smears of fresh gore. From Strade’s boots and the knife. Strade had even taken a blow torch to the burns caused by the boiling water, making them go from peeling and red to a series of gouged, pus-like craters in her flesh.

Cold seeped into your socks from the floor as you walked over to her. She regarded you with dull, dying eyes. She opened her mouth, maybe to say something, but whatever word she might have come up with wouldn’t come. Her swollen, bruised lip trembled as blood dribbled out of it. 

One of the handcuff keys was taped to the back of the poll. Strade always liked to keep extras around, in case he lost the original but still wanted to uncuff someone. He usually didn’t uncuff people unless they were being bound in some other way (usually not a good sign) or he was just about finished with them (definitely a bad sign); and in this case, you knew she was being released only to make killing her a little more fun.

Her hands flopped forward as soon as the cuffs were undone. There was a brief moment where you saw her regard her wrists, all reddened and cut from where the metal handcuffs dug into them. 

But the moment was over as soon as Strade stepped forward and pulled her close with a decisive yank of her hair. She yelped–you were surprised she had the yelp in her, her voice should have been shot from all the screaming–and he twisted her hair tight to keep her still.

“It’s been fun, but it’s time to go now. Don’t take this personally, hm? Or do, actually, it might make you feel better.”

She didn’t have time to respond. He rarely wanted them to say anything, you thought. It was just part of his internal script, a set of syllables that gave him extra pleasure as he snuffed out someone’s internal light. 

He stuck the hunting knife into her gut and twisted. She didn’t scream. She barely shouted. The sound, instead, was one of strangled horror. Like she couldn’t believe what was happening to her. He twisted again, and she grunted and gasped, a sound that was almost like a deep, gaping hiccup.

“Shh,” he murmured, a sick grin splitting his face. His eyes darted over her face, and you got a front-row view of how his expression was gleefully illuminated by the sight of her own life fading away. He enjoyed it so much, he even let go of the knife handle so that he could grasp her face with both hands and keep her dying gaze in his sights.

Who was she? What had she been, before the basement? Was she thinking about her friends, her family? Did she have children that were going to be left behind? Maybe she was in college, maybe she’d been studying for exams that would never happen. There would be uneaten prepared lunches in her fridge, a bookmark that would never move past a certain page. 

Her hands went tremblingly to the handle of the knife sticking out of her. She held the handle tenderly with bruised, bloody hands. Didn’t Strade see it? No, he was too focused on her face. But he didn’t even see the way her expression shifted. 

No, he saw it. But maybe he didn’t know what it meant, because he’d never been on the other end. The way she went from looking confused and horrified to determined. 

She didn’t act right away. 

You could have said something. You could have called out a warning. 

But instead you watched as the dying woman yanked the knife out of her gut, viscera and blood coming out with it, and stabbed it right into Strade’s neck.

He gasped now. A gaping, strangled sound. His hands went instinctively to his neck and it took him a few slow, trembling tries to pull it out. You saw the blood arch and spurt–an artery–and he fell to his knees.

The woman stepped away with what must have been her last ounce of energy. She had only enough life left in her to turn to you and smile–she was missing teeth, too–before she collapsed on the ground. She was still alive, but her shock would come soon after.

It wasn’t her you were watching, anyway. It was Strade.

His eyes darted to and fro until they landed on you. He had his hand pressed against the wound now, but it wasn’t doing much good. He would need a proper compress… an ambulance… surgery of some kind. 

You don’t know why you called him. To help Strade? To help you? 

“Ren.”

Not loud enough.

“Ren.”

Still not loud enough.

“Ren!” 

Before you knew it,  you were simply screaming his name, filling the basement with a different pitch of scream than it was used to. Your own voice was barely recognizable.

The basement door slammed open and you heard frantic footsteps pounding down the stairs. You saw Ren, only a blur of orange in your shock, take in the scene. His own mouth slowly gaped open, but unlike Strade and the unfortunate woman on the floor and your own panting lips, no sound came out.

Ren said your name. You think it was Ren, because Strade was surely in no position to talk. It shook you out of your stupor and you ran to him, clinging to his arm, crying fitfully. He wrapped one arm around you and the two of you stood, together, watching Strade bleed.

“What do we do?” The inside of your elbow pressed hard against Ren’s back as you held him. You wanted to snuggle, like the way you did on good nights. You wanted him to make it all go away. 

Maybe he sensed this. Because while the two of you had clung together in so many occasions, this time, he stood up taller. He held you tighter. And then he assessed the situation.

Ren watched Strade quietly for a long moment. Strade gazed up at him–at you, too, but mostly Ren–with wide-eyed helplessness. The look didn’t suit him at all. He seemed to know it. 

“Help me,” Strade managed. It almost didn’t feel like speech. Maybe the knife had grazed his vocal chords. 

Neither of you moved at first. There was a long moment in which either of you could have sprung into action; could have ran to the supply cabinet and grabbed thick gauze to press against the wound, while the other could have bounded up the stairs to call an ambulance.

But you didn’t. And Ren didn’t. 

And then Ren looked at you, and took a step backward. He pulled you with him, and you went willingly, taking another step, and another, until the two of you were standing at the bottom of the stairs.

“You…” Strade gurgled out the word, and blood came bubbling out in between the fingers pressed against his neck with it. “You…”

He didn’t get to finish. His eyes widened and you saw the light leave them before he collapsed on the floor. 

For the first time since you’d been brought here, the basement was truly silent. 

Strade was dead.

Neither of you moved for a while. And then you felt a hoarse sob coming on. Relief, terror, and shock coursed through you, fighting for the surface in a way that could only result in tears. 

Ren regarded you with an unreadable expression and slowly removed his arm from your shoulder. You whimpered–don’t leave me, you wanted to say–and he smiled, a soft, little thing. 

“Don’t worry. I’m just going to make sure he’s dead.”

Oh. That was a good idea. But what if he wasn’t? What if Strade got to his feet and oh, the two of you would be in for it. He’d probably kill both of you–or at least you–and it would be slow and awful and you’d beg, beg, for death.

“Ren,” you said, almost stammering, swallowing a thick lump in your throat.

He turned back towards you, curious.

You pointed to the table of tools at Strade’s disposal. “Take something. Just in case.”

Ren stared at the weapons that had been used to kill countless people. At the blades and torches and nails that had been used to hurt him, and you. Then he grabbed a heavy hammer and slowly approached the bleeding corpse (please let it be a corpse) of Strade.

Strade didn’t move as Ren approached him. Or when Ren knelt down, hammer at the ready. Or when Ren’s fingers slowly reached out and pressed against his neck, his wrist. 

“No pulse,” said Ren.

Ren set the hammer down and used both hands to shove Strade’s body until it was fully on his back. His eyes, dull and dead, stared up at the ceiling without seeing anything.

He was dead. Truly dead. 

Really most sincerely dead, your thoughts echoed in a half-mimic of the Munchkins in The Wizard of Oz.

You barely registered Ren digging around in Strade’s pocket before he returned to you, wrapping his arm around your waist as he began to lead you upstairs.

“Let’s not stay down here,” he said. He gave Strade’s corpse one last look before staring ahead at the basement door. How many times had the two of you gone up and down these stairs at Strade’s whim? It always meant you would get hurt, or you would help Strade hurt others. It was never willing, going up these stairs. Never a choice.

And now the two of you were going up them together, Ren leading you, of your own free will.

Free will! What a concept. One you thought you’d lost forever. And yet here it is, given by the hands of a woman whose last days were filled with unnecessary, unfair agony. You wish you knew her name, so you could thank her properly.

Ren shut the basement door. It sounded louder than it ever had before. Or was it because the house was so quiet now? 

“Come here,” Ren said. And you didn’t know why he said it–shock, confusion, uncertainty still reigned–until you saw what was in his hand. 

His collar. It was… off. But how and–

Ren held up the key he’d taken from Strade’s pocket and shook it back and forth, like a well-earned prize. That’s what it was, in some ways. 

You stepped towards Ren and turned around, breathing heavily at the thought of being truly free from the collar. Strade only took them off the pair of you when you were showering and, once you had learned to behave well enough, when you slept. But they always went back on first thing in the morning, and their threat was an ever-constant presence in your mind, just like the metal was ever-constant around your neck.

Ren’s fingers brushed the back of your shoulder. You heard him breathing just as heavily. For a moment, he didn’t do anything. Wasn’t he going to…?

“Ren?” You asked, voice quivering. The air felt suddenly too heavy, your collar weighing you down more than normal. There was an awful thought, then: What if he doesn’t take your collar off? What if Ren is… what if, what if…

But then you felt the pressure from him sticking the key into the back of the metal contraption, heard it twist, and felt cool relief on your neck as Ren lifted the collar away from your neck and set it down on the coffee table. 

Both hands went to your neck. The skin was sensitive, bruised. A few days ago, Strade had come into your room at night for a session of “fun,” which ended with you being choked into unconsciousness. You’d woken up to Ren splashing cold water on your face. “Thought I’d lost you,” he’d said. 

The bruises Strade gave you would fade away in time. At least the ones on the outside.

And Ren…

You turned around and gave him a fractured smile. You leaned in, and Ren leaned in, and you hugged each other tenderly. Not just because it was the nicest way to hug, but because Ren’s rib fracture was still healing, and your back hurt, and both of you were littered with scars and cuts and bumps and bruises.

After a while, Ren pulled away. “Let’s… sit down.” 

He sat down on the sofa, which was dotted with sprinkles of Ren’s orange fur; no matter how much you lint-rolled the furniture, you could never quite get all of it out. 

Well, that didn’t matter now. You’d never have to clean up this living room, or the kitchen, or the brain matter and blood stains in the basement, again. You could go home.

And Ren could go home. 

And the nightmare would be over.

For now, you sat, side by side, on a sofa that had never seemed more ordinary. The house had never seemed more ordinary. Its secrets were primarily down in the basement. The rest of the house was bland and boring by comparison. Unless you counted upstairs, as it was not unheard of for Strade to take his particular brand of “fun” into your respective rooms. 

And now? It was quiet. Still. There was no chance that Strade would come walking up the stairs. No chance that you’d be called down them to torture someone.

Certainly no chance that he’d call both of you down, which never ended well. He liked to see Ren hurt you, because it seemed to hurt Ren. But sometimes, sometimes, you thought… there was a glimmer of something in Ren’s eyes in those moments. 

Something that reminded you too much of pleasure to ignore. Just a spark of it, but that was enough, when you were bound to a table and he was clawing open your thighs at Strade’s behest.

“Ren?” You forced yourself to stop thinking like that. That was the past. This was now. No, more than that: this was the future. A future without Strade, without this house, without pain. 

Ren looked over at you, slowly. The realization of what had just happened, and what it meant, seemed to be catching up to him, too. “... Yeah?”

Your fingers scratched at some of Ren’s stray fur on the couch. Some of the orange fur had already started clinging to your bandage. 

“What do we do now?” A simple question for you to ask. Several plans rushed through your head but it was hard to make sense of them. What was the best course to take; which authorities did you appeal to, when there was a dead serial killer and one of his victims in the basement, but your hands were on the torture tools, yet the same tools had been used to hurt you? 

You swallowed hard, shaking your head, willing the dizzying thoughts to quiet down.  “Do we call the police first? Or… an ambulance? Or–or–” 

Ren gripped the hand that idly scratched the couch. He intertwined his fingers in yours, and when you looked up at him, his eyes were wide. And just a bit wild.

“We could stay here.”

Your heart thudded. Once, twice. A third time.

“What?” You shifted on the couch, facing Ren more clearly. “We… we can’t, it’s–”

Ren squeezed your hand, a little too hard–the burn–and you winced. He didn’t let up, but he didn’t know you were hurting, did he? It was all just a rush right now, confusing, scary.

“We can,” he said, as if it was the simplest thing in the world. His mouth broke into an almost childish grin as he continued. “Strade’s got a lot of money, we can use that to keep up the bills. Buy whatever we want. We won’t have to worry about anything!” His tail swished behind him, thumping into your side. 

When you didn’t respond–words weren’t coming–his grin deflated a little. “I’m… I’m a good roommate,” he said, ears flattening. “I’ll take care of you.” He squeezed even tighter now. “We’ll do everything together, and we don’t have to worry about Strade getting mad about it. We’ll watch movies or-or play games or whatever you want.” He swallowed and you watched his throat bob. “And I promise I won’t leave fur everywhere.”

“Ren–” It was your turn to give his hand a squeeze, and you took his other in your free hand and clasped them both. “I’m not worried about your fur.”

His ears perked up and his smile came back.

“It’s… we can’t stay here,” you said, voice wobbling but gaining more firmness as you went on. “We need to leave. We need to call the police.”

Ren’s ears twitched. He looked thoughtful, opening his mouth, and shutting it. He was just confused, that’s all. Like you were. He needed to be reminded that if Strade was gone, the both of you were free. You’d go home, and he’d go home, and you could call or text or email or something but…

“Don’t be stupid.” 

The firmness in Ren’s voice shook you a little. More than that, it made you worry. He frowned at the sight of your tense shoulders, the quirk in your mouth. “Think about it,” he said, gently saying your name. “Remember all the people who watch his videos? Don’t you know who’s in those chats?”

The reminder of the chatrooms came hurtling straight into your guts. The chat… the people there paid money to watch people suffer. Watch them die. How many times had they encouraged Strade to indulge in some fucked up torture? Hell, they’d asked him countless times to string you up, cut you open, pull out your guts while you were still alive. Strade had danced away the requests with a teasing lilt, but the threat was never gone.

Ren let go of your bandaged hand and gently cupped your cheek. He spoke slowly, almost sweetly. “They’re rich. Important. Mayors. Politicians. Doctors. Police.” 

The anguish your stomach began to stretch. Ren didn’t stop talking.

“They know both our faces. Do you know what they’ll do to us, if they find us?” 

Tears pricked, unwanted and unbidden, at your eyes. He was right. You couldn’t go to the police. You couldn’t go to the media. This could never get out. But that didn’t mean you had to stay here. More than that: you couldn’t stay here. 

It would be another type of collar, to find yourself stuck here with Ren. And the collar might not be electric, but it would be just as dangerous. 

“Okay,” you said slowly. “No police.”

Ren grinned hopefully.

“But,” you continued. “We can’t stay here. I want to go home. And you–you get to go home now, too.” Ren had never talked much about his life before Strade, but surely he had friends. A family. An apartment or a house. A life. Just like you. 

“You want to leave–” His voice was thin and there was a fissure in it, ready to crack.

The hand on your cheek pressed harder, and you felt the thin press of his claws against your skin. Your eyes must have widened or perhaps you flinched, you don’t know, but Ren saw–and yanked away.

“S-Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to.”

No, he didn’t. He wouldn’t. He was upset, he was scared, hell, you didn’t know whether you wanted to laugh or cry or start belting out show tunes right now. 

Freedom was confusing as hell. 

“I know,” you said, slowly. “It’s okay.”

Ren stared down at the ground. Then he stood up and fished Strade’s keyring out of his pocket and set it down on the coffee table with a jingling rattle. 

“I’m going to get us some water. And maybe a snack. We’ll… we’ll talk about this more. We can talk about it, and not make a decision right away. Okay?” He fumbled with both his hands in front of him, looking like the meek young man you’d met that first night, when he cleaned your wounds and gave you water to drink. 

You stared at him, perhaps for too long.

“Okay, Ren, we’ll talk about it,” you lied. 

You watched him walk into the kitchen, where Strade would never saunter in for a case of beer again. You heard him open the cabinet for an empty glass, none of which would ever again find themselves dashed into tiny shards that could be ground into your skin for fun. 

And then you leaned forward, grabbed the keyring off the countertop, pulled out the key to the front door, and softly padded your way to the threshold that neither of you had been able to cross in ages.

Your heart thudded. Your stomach heaved. But you unlocked the door and bolted, socked feet aching on the concrete sidewalk.

Ren said your name after the third step you took beyond the door of Strade’s house of horrors.

You could have kept running. Maybe you should have.

But instead, you turned around, to look at Ren standing in the doorway. There were no glasses of water in his hand–you don’t remember registering the sound of the sink at all, in fact. It was just Ren, with his hands at his sides, looking at you with an expression that was equally pitiful, agonizing, and worrying.

He said your name again.

You felt hot tears squeeze out of your eyes as you shook your head, turned around, and ran for your life.

[a-hazbin-reader]

Hehehehe what about Vox and a fem!S/O that makes it a habit to fluster him or smother his techy butt in affection? I really just wanna take care of this stressed and overworked man whdiskansoskns-

Oh I suppose we can throw him a bone~

Vox X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: None I think??

Description: ☝️⬆️

Vox is probably the most stressed out of all the V's, not necessarily because of his workload but because of his temperament

A lot of little things get to him even though he tries not to show it

So he really appreciates having you as his S/O, especially on those days where he's losing his shit, because your affectionate nature helps him focus on something else

On those days, you manage to get him to lay down and accept a back massage from you, and you only tickle his sides a little

You couldn't help it

Sometimes, he actually falls asleep only to wake up to you lying on top of him, arms wrapped around his chest

Or you kiss the side of his screen and hug his neck while he vents to you, holding you securely in his lap

He doesn't want solutions, he just wants you to listen and keep cooing at him like you agree with him

Sometimes all he needs is just a hug from his favorite person in the world and you are more than willing to give it

He could die happy wrapped in your arms and breathing in your scent, your fingers gently caressing the edges of his screen

He loves how affectionate you are with him, knows that he would probably been driven mad by now if it weren't for you in his life

But if you do it in public or around the V's?? He's absolutely mortified and will actually just fizzle out right then and there

Not that you care, you'll take care of him

He's on tv doing his show? No matter, you blow him kisses from behind the camera until he's too flustered to go on, ending it earlier so he can go to you

Definitely doesn't cash in on all those smooches you were blowing his way

Not you interrupting a meeting with the V's because he forgot his phone, you practically demanding a kiss goodbye before you go

"Y/N, we're in a meeting I can't just-"

"I won't leave without a proper kiss!"

Smooch

Not Valentino hooting and hollering at you two as you grip onto your mans and really kiss him

Vox is so dazed by the time you scamper off, flopping back into his chair and hardly registering anything being said

...he definitely had his phone in his pocket before he left...he just didn't check after you pulled him in for a hug...

Did you pickpocket him just to kiss him at work!? In front of his friends!?

And now his screen went dark

The two of you are going out somewhere? You insist on holding his hand and kissing it at every opportunity, gazing up at him innocently

He chokes on his own spit

Even when you aren't awake you're so affectionate

Vox tries to get out of bed and get an early start on the day? Not unless he's taking you with him, your sleepy arms wrapped around him like a vice

More often than not, Vox is seen carrying you around while he sips his coffee, you peacefully dozing against him

You always rub your face on him, practically purring in your sleep because you're so content to snuggle him

He's blushing the entire time while trying to keep a neutral or annoyed look on his face, sipping his drink while scrolling through the news

If anybody mentions it then they're fired

If you ever wear lipstick or anything like that? You bet Vox is stumbling out of closets and rooms covered in kiss marks, blushing furiously

You look so innocent when you step out behind him, like you didn't nearly take his soul

Don't worry, you'll clean him up~

You give him affection and love so freely that it's difficult for him not to be embarrassed, not used to such a thing

He does try to reciprocate but it's not nearly as easy for him as it is for you, but he wants you to know he feels the same

So every once in awhile when you two are alone, he'll pull you into his lap and kiss the back of your neck in an attempt to hide his blush

"You know I'd be so lost without you, right?"

Now he's just asking for you to kiss him until he's begging for mercy

"Y/N W-WAIT!"

I had a lot of fun with this one! I hope it was okay!

[pressureplus]

sebby x transmasc reader headcanons? i'm feeling self indulgent today >:)

Whoo, Yeah! I'm finally getting to answer this one! I personally have little to no gender at any point in time, and my lovely Co-Star has all of the gender and fluctuates fairly regularly between the shiny genders they've collected. So this is written from the shared trans braincell, gotta support the homies ✨

(Hope you have a wonderful day!)

Sebastian Solace x Transmasc Reader

[Warnings: Transphobia and misgendering (neither one from Sebby) and mentions of Dysphoria]

◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜

• Honestly, this fish bastard couldn't care less

• Your gender, job, and species are COMPLETELY irrelevant to him, the ONLY thing he really cares about is whether or not you are going to buy his stuff

• His gender? Shopkeeper. Now give him your data-

• If it's not addressed, you are literally just another man that Urbanshade sent on a suicide mission, he really doesn't care what is or is not in your boxers

• Can't stress enough that he's ONLY supportive when you or someone else brings it up, Sebby never pushes the topic. If you didn't know you told him or that he found out, you'd honestly think he didn't know

• Now, are there ways this becomes relevant to him? No, absolutely not, you are just another guy that's going to buy an expensive flashlight and then die several terrible deaths.

• It's not until one of the other expendables starts to misgender you that he even seems to notice

• "She? I don't particularly see any women in my shop at the moment- If you're sick I'm going to have to ask you to leave so we don't catch whatever nasty thing you have."

• "I think you meant 'Him', as in 'I am going to hand Him my gun and look away when He makes you a stain on my tile'. Do you understand me, expendable?"

• "It's funny hearing someone only packing 3 inches try to decide what is and isn't a man. I think we all know his is bigger than yours is, so if you could shut up about it that would be great."

• Sometimes he's more sassy, sometimes more outwardly aggressive, and occasionally he tells someone off in a way that's a bit more on the side of entertaining, but he does always make a point to stick up for you

• If you need your hair cut, he'll do it. He cuts his own hair and has for the last decade, so he's actually pretty good at it! Better at messy styles, but he'll try a clean one if you really want him to

• "If you die because your hair is in your eyes, I won't get your data. You must understand this is to my own benefit, Y/N."

• Sebastian is... Starting to call you by your name. You're not sure when you stopped being an expendable like everyone else and started being the name you actually chose for yourself, but you've surely become different to him

• Sebastian was born a man, and handles issues regarding your situation completely casually unless it 100% HAS to be verbally brought up, so you are left completely confused by what you did to get closer to him like this

• Was it somewhere between him validating you or defending you? Was it when he sat with you for the first or third time while you were wrestling your disphoria? Was it trust, or maybe pity... It couldn't be pity, right?

• One day you'll find out he's sees himself in you

• He says it like a joke when he starts to talk about how they treat you differently when they don't understand you. Researchers treated him the same way a handful of the other people down here treat you.

• He knows it's not quite the same, but it feels the same for him sometimes. When they call him 'it' instead of he... Sometimes he calls himself an 'it' or a 'thing', too even though he knows he hates that. Do you feel that way when they call you a she? He'll just go ahead and start banning those people for you both, he doesn't like them anyway.

• He isn't comfortable in his own body anymore either. He didn't choose what he is now the same way you didn't choose what you were born as

• Sometimes, his body doesn't fit right, either. He hates that he understands that feeling, but he does...

• He's starting to get comfortable with that familiarity, and with maybe not feeling so alone

• Is it wrong of him to enjoy having found someone he can relate to? If even just a little?

• Sebastian knows it's probably awful of him, but he's making a point to be good to you for it

• It makes himself feel better for a while when you can connect like that so naturally...

• It makes him feel human again.

[justanotherescapism]

I need more homelander!!!

I have homie brainrot,feed my hunger please!

A/N: The homie brainrot is real...

Read my mind

Pairing: Homelander x Fem!Supe!Reader

Tags/TW: Established relationship, references to childhood abuse, reader is telepathic, a lil angsty, slight spoilers for season 4

Word count: 1142

Psychic waited at the table of the seven, they were all waiting on Homelander. He was late for yet another meeting. She knew that he was under a lot of stress but lately it had gotten a lot worse, maybe it was this whole starlighter stuff and Neuman. 

“Hey Psychic, can’t you read his mind and find out where he is?” Deep asked.

“No, I promised I wouldn’t read his mind. Doesn’t matter anyways, unless he is close enough I can’t.” Psychic shifted in her seat, as the Deep whispered an insult under his breath. If Homelander knew what he had said, he’d have his head, but he still was nowhere to be seen. Regardless, they would wait until he showed up, everyone but Psychic was scared of him. 

Then just like that, Homelander came bursting through the doors. 

“Sorry, I’m late guys, just got caught up is all. So, now that you are here,” Homelander was going on about his latest plan, but he was smiling through gritted teeth and that’s all that Psychic noticed. His jaw was clenched too and hands gripped the chair a little too hard. He was agitated but she had no idea why. 

“Deep blow A-Train.” That snapped her out of thoughts. 

“What?” He said.

“Get on your knees and blow A-Train, really.” Homelander started to laugh but it was sinister. The deep stood up looking at the other seven to see what they thought. His face turned red. Psychic couldn’t deny that she enjoyed seeing him squirm a little, after all, he wasn’t her favorite teammate. 

“Sexuality is a spectrum, bro.” A-Train looked just as uncomfortable as Deep. Homelander stopped them before Deep actually did anything, much to the relief of them both. Psychic caught Homelander’s eye and he quickly looked away from you, as much as you enjoyed seeing Deep squirm she was still uncomfortable with the whole thing, and he knew that. 

After the meeting, she didn’t even bother sticking around, just rushing straight off to their shared apartment. Walking out onto the balcony, she breathed in the fresh air. She loved Homelander but sometimes he was too much. She looked down at the city, saw a woman walking alone, she sunk her thoughts into her, and soon enough their thoughts intertwined. The woman was on her way home to her partner who she loved dearly, she had no anxiety, no fear of him and it was refreshing to feel for Psychic. Most people aren’t with the strongest supe ever, sometimes it’s nice to pretend she wasn’t, for a moment anyway. 

“Whose head are you fiddling with today?” Homelander snapped Psychic out of her trance, making her jump to one side. Before relaxing when she saw who it was. 

“Just some random woman.”

“Ah.” They stood looking at the city in silence. She keep picking at her fingers, tearing small bits of skin off. Homelander noticed and took her hand in his. “You shouldn’t do that, you’ll make your fingers all sore again.” He kissed where she had been scratching. Her heart melted a little before remembering the meeting.

“Are we going to talk about the meeting?”

“Do we have to?”

“I think we should.”

“Okay, go ahead.”

“Are you okay? You have been erratic recently.”

“Have I?”

“Yes, you know you have. You avoided my eye in the meeting, you only do that when you know I don’t like something.”

“Or maybe I just didn’t want to look at you?” Homelander regretted the words as soon as they came out of his mouth, but he was stubborn and wouldn’t let it go. She didn’t even respond, just turning away from him, looking out to the otherside of the city. Her eyes were welling up with tears but she would rather die than let him see. 

“You’re a dick.” She finally said, and walked back into the balcony. She made herself a glass of water, downing it. Homelander remained on the balcony for a moment, thinking about what he would say now. He did this all the time, took things too far, and it was hurting her, the one person he did not want to hurt. When he walked in, she was on the couch, laying down, defeated. He lifted her head up, sitting down and placing her head on his lap. Slowly stroking her hair, he still struggled with what to say. There are only so many ways to apologize and quite frankly he had exhausted them all. 

“I’m sorry.” He said, meekly. She looked up at him. Her watery eyes were searching his. 

“Please just talk to me.” Her voice was barely above a whisper but that didn’t matter. Homelander took a deep breath, pursing his lips after. He was conflicted, and Psychic didn’t have to read his mind to know it. 

“I’m just…read my mind.” 

“What?” She sat up, shocked at his request. Never in all the time they had been together had he asked her to read his mind. 

“I want you to read my mind.” 

“I promised you I wouldn’t.”

“I know. Please do it.”

“Okay.” She braced herself, slowly she began to seep into his mind. His was tougher to decode, his thoughts were rapidly racing around. Reaching out, she finally understood the rhythm and began to sync with them. 

Homelander was scared, scared about ageing, death and his legacy. Ryan wasn’t like him and he knew that was okay but deep down he wants Ryan to be like him, not for vanity but for acceptance. She thought that was all, she didn’t want to probe further but then something was blazing in his mind, it had its own corner, shut away. Psychic reached for it. All she could see was a room? A white room, and lots of pain. He was led out of the room and into a darker one. He was crying, then there was red and the heat, god it was burning him alive. The pain was like none she had ever felt.

It pulled her out of her trance, screaming and rubbing her skin, crying and moaning. Homelander tried to get her to calm down but nothing seemed to work, she was hysterical. He knew exactly what memory she had seen, he didn’t want her to see that but it was so hard to repress the thought sometimes. 

“I’m sorry, you’re safe, I promise they aren’t going to hurt you.” He cradled her head against his chest and soon enough her breathing began to steady itself. She reached up to his face, looking deeply into his eyes. Her eyes were ablaze, fiery and angry. He had never seen her this way. He would’ve been scared, if he wasn’t Homelander. 

“Where are they?” She asked. Standing and walking towards the balcony.

“What? Why?”

“We are going to hurt them like they hurt you.” 

[abnomi]

random assorted headcanons for Turbo because I like thinking and having fun !!!! 🎉

Read More to Find Out...or are you too scared?... i bet ur too scared ahaha youre too scared Lol! Hahaahaaa!!!

The steering wheel of his kart is covered in bite marks, similar to how one would bite their favorite pencil. he bites things to mark his territory because Nobody is gonna touch that unless they want all of his diseases (150+).

i just know he was fighting to restrain himself not to chew on any of the candy civilians

when it comes to music, he doesn't see the point of listening to it. he doesn't have enough patience to really take it in; to him, it's just a thing that exists and not much more than that ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ ∵⁠ )⁠_⁠/⁠¯

adding onto that point, this guy listens to metal clanking sounds and loud engine roaring for entertainment because he likes things that would overstimulate any normal person. turbo is incredibly sensory-seeking and will do anything for The Sensations

someone should take him to a heavy rock concert i think it would change him a little. keep that thang on a leash

related to being sensory-seeking, i think he would absolutely love running his hands over random textures. if anyone has run their hands along a wall while walking alongside it...He does that...If u know u know... he is SO stimmy its unbelievable. Unreal.

very pain-tolerant. he'll whine and complain about it for attention, but physical hurt really doesnt bother him much until it gets in the way of what he wants to do.

funnily enough, he is very picky when it comes to temperature. he can handle getting ran over but if its 1° too hot or cold he'll start nagging and nagging for it to go back to normal. turbo really needs his own enclosure i think it'd do him a lot of good

this is a more popular headcanon and its canon-leaning, but he's an artist :-] he usually sticks to graffiti art because its generally considered more "rebellious and cool" but he also sketches cars, design decals, and other stuff when hes alone!

i would love to see his process of character designing king candy because i dont think he really knew what he was doing

he was just like "ok what does a generic king look like. uhhhhh.... 1, old and jolly like santa claus.... 2.... uhh crown..... 3......... purple.... FUCK YEAH im so good at this!!!!🔥🔥🔥"

i just noticed how his design has like 0 actual candy motifs aside from his bow being a candy wrapper and his shoes having those little gumdrop end pieces. what was he THINKING

while King Candy has a lisp, i think it's a coverup for his actual voice because of how goofy and recognizable it is. Overall its the same as his regular voice, he just gets silly with it. i noticed that he still does retain some of his lisp when hes screaming his lungs out at Vanellope, however, so maybe he genuinely does have a lisp that makes itself known when furious :3

another thing i noticed is how he hisses his S's. very cool very cool the reptilian

@/tasticturbo made a post abt how he has tinnitus from the constant noise in his game and i couldnt agree more

AND THE PRESCRIPTION GLASSES. where did he get those...he needs to See

side note, the aforementioned account has made so many interesting analyses on turbo and theyre all so insightful. i recommend u check them out

i think he gets migraines from stress. constant buzzing or pain flood his head but hes like "IDGAF i need to DO something at ALL TIMES no matter what"

hes like a shark in that way. if hes not moving he'll die instantly. idk a lot about sharks or if thats how it works srry but im going off of what the Worms are saying to me and i dont have much to work with

i think a really big contributer as to why he lacks in the self care department is because he fails to notice that something in his body is wrong. hes far too distracted on something he thinks is more important than remembering to Eat Food or Drink Water or Wash Himself or

he's like "WHY DO I FEEL LIKE SHIT ALL OF THE TIME!!! I HATE MY LIFE" and he hasn't slept in 4 days

hes so me. Sorry.

i dont think turbo is necessarily suicidal, but the way he behaves shows a clear disregard for his own safety and wellbeing. he thinks that he knows what he needs but he really doesnt :-[ i think he has some kind of immortality complex, feeling untouchable and like nothing could get to him. as scared as he was when ralph was about to turn him into sloppy mush, he didnt take the threat very seriously. like it was some kind of joke

his kart regenerates every time his game starts up, so what if he smashed it into buildings for fun. He's the number one fan of car accidents. he is all about that shit

i think his living space would literally be a garage btw. its a place to sleep and a space for his car all in one!! he thinks its very convenient and awesome but i think he is coping. he has some old dingy stained sheetless mattress that he has never washed in his life and its covered in dirt and smoke particles. no wonder he has such heavy eye bags Dude Please

the turbo twins have a garage used in a similar way, and while its still pretty shitty, they still at least TRY to maintain it. they just fight a lot over who has to care of it. nobody taught them how to take turns ever

but this aint about them. maybe another day

i think that turbo would find comfort in garbage and keeping it around because its familiar to him. a big clean empty space would make him so mad and if anyone moves even an inch of scrap off to the side he will throw a fit. he generally doesnt pay attention to his surroundings but when its his personal space he is 1093 times more neurotic

i think the big empty castle he stole wouldve been a big transition for him. maybe it helped him clear his mind a little more to practice his tricky schemes...it helped him get more subtle

thats all i have for nowww ty for reading ^_^ if anyone else has any wacky ideas pleeeease tell me i would love to hear them!!

[smut-anarchy]

Own Me - Prologue

Summary: You accidentally broke a priceless relic and got caught. The Slytherin heir himself, Mattheo Riddle, makes it simple: you do what he says and no one finds out; the catch is, he owns you now and he'll do whatever he wants with your mind... and your body.

Tags: Dubious Consent, Dom!Mattheo, Gryffandor!Reader, Cursing, Blackmail (More Tags Later)

Rewritten As Of: 12/26/2024

Word Count: 1,917 Words

A/N: Years ago I watched Ouran High School Host Club (iykyk) and then this past weekend I finished the amazing @slytherinslut0 Beg For Me Series (seriously go read it) and I was totally inspired by the two, thus Own Me was born! I've never written smut before so be patient with me. All my love and I hope you enjoy! XOXO - Angel

This was such a stupid fucking way to die.

Okay, maybe you wouldn’t go that far. But as a Gryffindor, sneaking into the Slytherin common was still one of the worst things you could do, right along with standing under the Whomping Willow blindfolded or wandering into the nearby Acromantula den. Yet still, you were here, stupidly, because Daphne Greengrass had taken your wand. 

“Little mudblood lions who don’t know their place don’t get their wands. I think it’ll look great collecting dust in one of the Slytherin vases.”

Bitch. One could argue that prior to her theft of your wand you had been stoking the fires of her ire by callings her an “inbred wretch in pearls with the intelligence of a toadstool” though you’d found her more than deserving after catching her picking on a small group of second years. I mean seriously, what kind of asshole picks on a bunch of twelve year olds?

So now, here you were, sticking your face through every fucking vase in the Slytherin common room, desperately searching for your wand before any Slytherin happened upon you. Dinner in the great hall would only last another twenty minutes so if you didn’t find it in the next ten minutes your only options were to somehow hide from every Slytherin until everyone was asleep and search then or leave and tell Snape, and telling Snape meant house points deductions and surely some ridicule and detentions. Between the options of hell no and fuck no your panic was rising, making you feel jittery and unbearably stressed. Why the fuck does Slytherin have this many vases in their common room?! They don’t even have flowers! 

There was only one vase left, it had to be in there, unless Daphne was a liar, which wasn’t completely off the table either. Regrettably, it was the largest vase, towering a good foot above your head. It was jade green, with intricate gold details, and for whatever reason it seemed to give off an ominous feeling, as if it was watching you. With how tall the vase was you had no idea how you were going to get your wand out, but the clock was ticking and you only had about two minutes before you absolutely had to get out of there or risk being found. If my wand is in there I am going to hex the shit out of Daphne.

The vase sat between a bookcase and the fireplace, so as carefully as you could you used the bookshelves to leverage yourself up just enough to peek into the vase. And there, at the bottom of the vase was your wand. Climbing further up the shelves and using the stone mantle to support your body, you lowered your top half into the vase, stretching your arms in an attempt at reaching your wand. You were nowhere near being able to reach your wand, so you figured you could slip in further, grab your wand, and then use the fireplace and bookcase to pull yourself out. Good plan!

Using a small amount of force to propel your lower half from the book case you clumsily tumbled into the large vase, your body folding in half at the bottom of the vase. Unfortunately, due to your focus you neglected to hear the click of the common room door opening. 

Your body’s ungracious fall in the vase rocked it back and forth, swirling you and your wand at the bottom, before it tipped too far right and toppled to the ground, shattering it and releasing you and your wand. 

Your head was still dazed from your plunge into the vase, but you opened your eyes to behold your wand in front of you. 

“Fuck yes! I did it!” You cheered. Although a hollow victory, since you destroyed a Slytherin vase, but you’d promised to reparo it before you left and no one would be the wiser.

No one, that is except the owners of the eyes on you. You’d looked to your right and there, sitting stunned on the common room couches were the worst five people who could have witnessed you: Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, Enzo Berkshire, Theo Nott and Mattheo Riddle. 

Fuck. 

Not one word was uttered. You looked between the shocked boys, you were in direct line of the door. If you’d went around the couches they’d surely grab you or have time to get in front of you and stop you, but if you went right down the middle, using the table between them to leap off you’d make it to the door and sprint so far away before they’d have time to catch you.

No time to think about logistics you’d lept up, grabbing your wand and ran towards them, leaping on the table and dashing across the surface, using the end to spring towards the door. 

“Oh no you don’t! Incarcerous!” 

While you were mid-air ropes wrapped around your legs and wrists, bringing you dropping to the ground with a painful “oof”. 

You rolled over, seeing Draco as the caster of the spell, wearing a smug grin on his face.

“Hey boys,” you squeaked, “This is all just a misunderstanding! Let me out of these ropes and we could talk, yeah?”

“I forget, do misunderstandings usually have the accused running away from their crime?” Theo questioned amusingly, his face holding an interested smirk.

“Listen, one of your housemates stole my wand and threw it in there and I was just trying to get it back, okay? I didn’t mean to break it and I would’ve repaired it and slipped out before anyone knew I was here.” You attempted to shimmy your wrists out of the ropes but to no avail, their tightness giving you a slight chaffing burn on your delicate skin. 

The boys stared at you puzzled, before jeering smiles cracked onto their faces and they burst into rowdy laughter. 

“You have no idea what you broke, do you little lion?” Enzo teased, his eyes alight with mischief and cruel enjoyment.

Their laughter and amusement was stirring an unsetting feeling in your gut. These boys had a reputation of being completely sadistic to those who crossed them, having them mock you was filling you with unease and panic. You shook your head at them, trying to display a neutral reaction to their taunts. 

“You broke an enchanted vase, lion. It can’t be repaired.” Blaise snickered.

Oh no. Fuck. Fuckitty Fuck.

You called upon all of your strength to not let your dread show. You steeled your mouth into a hard line and glared your eyes. 

“Okay fine, so I broke an ugly, big, magical vase. I’m sorry. Can I please leave now?”

Enzo and Draco were laughing in full on howls now, with Blaise and Theo sniggering to each other, sharing silent jokes between themselves. You made eye contact with Mattheo, who oddly had not said a word and was not sounding his hilarity like the others. His face held a mocking sneer, but his eyes, those obsidian black calculating eyes, stared at you, as if he was curious of this lion who had wandered into their viper den.

“You don’t sound sorry.” His voice cracked through the laughter, the other boys sounds dying out at his voice. 

“It wasn’t intentional and like I said, I was here because my wand was stolen and I-“

“Funny you should say that,” he interrupted, the edge in his voice seeping into your bones like ice, “I’m sure not a single Slytherin would admit to doing such a thing. So really, all we know for sure is that you broke into our common room and broke a thousands of years old enchanted relic from Salazar Slytherin.”

Your mouth dried up, anxiety going haywire throughout your body. On the one hand, your pride did not want to apologize to this absolutely smug, antagonistic Slytherin group, especially since it wasn’t your fault you were here to begin with. On the other hand, you broke a priceless, unfixable treasure from the fucking founder of Slytherin, if Snape found out he’d take you to Dumbledore, you would get expelled. 

A cold sweat covered your body, fear clawing your throat and your eyes building up water. “I-I didn’t know, I swear. I would never sneak in here to do something like that on purpose. Please, I’ll do anything to make up for it.”

Mattheo’s intense gaze twitched in interest, “Anything?” You nodded your head earnestly, still feeling the nervous panic tingling through out your body. 

“Untie her.” Mattheo snapped. Enzo and Blaise were the first to come out of the fascination in watching you and Mattheo, getting to work quickly on your ankles and wrists. Upon being freed from the binds you rubbed your wrists, slightly raw from the scratchy rope. You stared up at Mattheo, worry etched into your face. 

“Seeing as I’m the heir of Slytherin, I think I’ll see to your punishment. And if you take it like a good little lion, no one will ever know about this.”

Mattheo’s words only further plunged you into terror. Whatever he had planned for you, you already knew it would be unbearably painful for your mind, spirit and body. Still, trying to maintain your Gryffindor courage, you nodded in understanding. 

“From this moment on, I own you. If I ask you to come, you will, immediately. If I ask you to do something, you will do it, no questions asked and to my satisfaction. If at any point you defy me, every single shard will be on Dumbledore’s desk faster than you can say ‘Godric’, do you understand?”

Utter sorrow wracked your body, your freedom for as long as you were at this school was trapped in the hands of a vicious sadist. Merlin knows what he’d have you do, thinking on it alone filled you with remorse so deep it would echo into your bones long into the night. But this was the only option, expulsion meant no more Hogwarts, no contact with your friends, no future in magic. You somberly nodded, not able to verbally confirm without choking on the words. 

“No. Use your words, pet.” Your anger roared inside you at the title, how dare he reduce you this low? To strip you of your autonomy and independence and then demean you with such an inferior name. Your inner lion burned to disobey, to unleash the full extent of your temper on this arrogant, immoral devil of a man who goaded you with such humiliation. 

“Yes, I understand.” You bit out, not bothering to hide the venom in your tone. Mattheo almost preened at the bite in your voice, clearly amused by your fury. 

“Good, now get out before someone sees you. Meet me in the outside of the common room at precisely 7AM, not a second after.”

Your eyes glanced back at the other Slytherin boys who had been captivated by the whole interaction, your eyes begging for some kind of help that you knew you weren’t going to get.

You gathered your wand and sprinted out the door as fast as you could. You ran as far as you could away from the treacherous dungeons where you’d lost so much more than you gained. And when you finally made it to your dorm room, after your lungs burned and wheezed, you finally let yourself cry. Your wrath and despair melting together to cocoon you against the horrible truth: Mattheo Riddle owned you.

[j0kb0x]

Since guts and blackpowder gives us free range for the characters here’s some personal headcanons for their personalities and lives given you can only psychoanalyze them so much. This is as realistic as I can make it based off surface level psychoanalysis + untrue garbage I made up.

Barry:

Despite his short temper (Typical brit) Williams is socially inept and shy. Like super timid. That dumb little softboy persona he has going on there shouldn’t be an indicator that he isn’t dangerous. Dude literally got trained as an infantry solider. He doesn’t want to hurt people, in fact, he avoids it when he can. The war is needless to him and he doesn’t understand why they’d draft someone like him — a lowly stableboy who’s quite known in his village for treating his horses and farm animals like his babies. His overly affectionate and polite personality (which came directly from his overbearing mother) has landed him a lot of bullying by his peers. Aforementioned hesitation to the enemy, but to zombies? He’s under the belief they’re from satan himself like the rest of the world. Afraid of them, but feels a spiritual duty to slay God’s enemies.

Jean:

He’s overly paranoid of Napoleon failing, and holds those french revolutionary beliefs. He wants Napoleon to win, so badly. He really doesn’t want his children living in a world with a stupid monarchy eating better than they do. Jean has no comprehension that maybe Napoleon isn’t the best fit for a country’s leader, in fact he’ll yell at you if you suggest otherwise. His wife died during childbirth and this, coupled with war has hardened him. He has never laid a single hand on his children because his father was deeply abusive, and of course this resulted in a pretty pessimistic, sad, depressed mess of a man. Constantly wanting better and yet fearing the worst. He’s a tough love kind of fatherly friend. Eat your damn rations or you will die. Speaking of which he literally wants to die :D

Jacob:

If this were modern day he’d be legally blind. His clumsiness isn’t the result of stupidity. The direct opposite in fact. He overthinks his job way too much and couple that with his dogshit eyesight, it’s no wonder he has a track record of being the napoleonic war’s personal south park Kenny. If ever a cartoon were made, I could l definitely see him in the background nailing in stakes incorrectly and getting confused as to why it wasn’t as affective as the other sapper’s. He has two sisters back at home and they hate him. They’re pro-monarchy, he isn’t. He raised and took care of these awful pieces of shit. Who were independent thinking teenagers by the time their parents died of sickness. So he couldn’t really influence them even if he tried. He has largely remained non(?) un(?) courted and unmarried his entire life. Hes a huge wine mom induced by stress and if you ever asked him why he never took a wife, he’d start spontaneously crying probably. Sad drunk. Cannot show emotions unless he’s drunk.

Karl / Unnamed Officer:

Selective mutism, ambition.. Way too much ambition. He wants to take down Napoleon himself and even fully believes he’s capable of doing so. Wants to cheat his way above the ranks somehow. He hides this and refuses to reveal his intentions to virtually anyone. Trying to get as close to the general as possible. Not because he agrees with the monarchy thing, but he just wants the fame and glory that comes along with executing him. The other men have horrible tempers but him? Holy. shit. He does not usually act upon his anger but as a wise man once said, “Silence speaks louder than words.” He silently judges those he’s angry at. Could imagine him getting teased, gripping a damn teacup so hard that it shatters in his hand and causes the entire room to go quiet. His whole regiment is batshit TERRIFIED of him. He refuses to betray his life story, let alone if he has any family. Nobody knows crap about him and that furthers the fear. Karl literally popped out of nowhere and his adorable babyface and gentle voice has won him the hearts of women wishing to be his wives… Whom he rudely pushed away in disgust. Has anyone seen that one scene in pootie tang where a woman is simping after him, and so he slips her a bowl of milk like a fucking clingy cat? Yeah I feel Karl would pull something like that.

[unspeakable-imagination]

Hey pookie bear 🐻, would you mind dropping a nsfw and a sfw alphabet headcanon for our Wolverine?? Also I wanted to tell you that all the love and support you are getting is because you deserve it and because your work is amazing!!! I really hope that you are also enjoying support and love you are getting from all your fellow x-men simps ( I think this should be the fandoms name lol) 🩵🩵🩵💛🩵🩵🩵

Logan Howlett SFW Alphabet

Oh my goodness ofc pookie. I'll post the nsfw one later but for now, enjoy

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

If your not in a relationship, good luck. Logan has the hardest time showing affection towards anyone because of how scared he is to love them. If you, by some type of gods given grace, have ended up in a relationship with him, it's like the flip of a switch. Constant PDA, hands of your hips, you back your shoulders, slung around you in any way he can to show that you're his. Maybe not so much as kisses unless he's jealous. If he's seen another man looking at you, talking to you, or if he thinks thag you're even in their thoughts, he's going to rub their nose in the fact you're with HIM, not them. Kissing you, pulling you onto his lap while he sits, and even taking his time to occasionally run his hand up and down your sides.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Logan would probably form a friendship with you through training Jr fighting in a ring. The most tell-tail sign that he considers you a friend is if he's offering you a drink or favors. Need that picked up from town while he's out? He's on it. Can't lift that specific thing? Consider it done. He won't say anything about it. He just kinda does it. He tried nit to expect anything in return.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Absolutely, especially in a relationship. On the couch, on a bed during movie night. If he's really feeling it, he'll even wrap an arm around scott.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

The idea of a domestic lifestyle terrifies Logan since any time he's tried it, it's ended in the death of a lived one. He truly does crave having a good sense of normalcy, but at this point he probably sees himself as to messed up to have it. Logan would cook for you but cleaning is something he won't touch with a ten foot pole.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Logan would usually rather die than break up with the person he loved, but if he's fallen out of his attachment (which usually doesn't happen) then he would likely be the kind of person to move out and say "Hey, sorry I can't do this anymore."

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

As mentioned before, Logan isn't really feeling like he deserves any time of long-lasting relationship. He really does want it though. To be able to achieve it would take atleast a couple of years, realistically a 6 mo- a year to even realize he's into you like that.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Logan is really abrasive and isn't the kind of person tnag would really be gently. He usually says it how it is or how he really feels. If you really get on his nerves he gets snappy and doesn't always think his words through. Actually, he never does. If your in a relationship, he'd try to take that into consideration, but you'll have to ask and warn him first.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Hugs take time, and I don't think I can stress it enough. And once you reach a point that he'd even enjoy hugs, he'd still be shocked. You could grab him and hug him and he'd just stand there awkwardly for like 5 seconds before even putting an arm around you and hugging you back.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Logan will probably never want to say it, because that makes it real, and if he really loves you then he thinks you'll die. He tends to Rey and show it through tou actions, but you you have a stable relationship that you explain you need thoes verbal affirmations, he's on it.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Logan gets jealous if someone even looks at you wrong, or if someone has what he wants. He gets salty if he doesn't have it, or flaunts it if he does.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

This man loves to kiss his partners and even familial people on their forheads. He's got a kid.? Kiss them on the forehead. He's got a wife? Forged kisses every morning. He's got a best friend? A little iffy.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Logan doesn't want to admit the soft spot he has for children, especially his own if 2017 means anything. They do have to kinds work their way in, but once they worm their way into his heart he's as good as a babysitter. He might gwt a little stressed, though.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Logan loves having coffee, Cigars, or even a whiskey on the rocks on a balcony in the forest. Alone or with a partner, he doesn't really mind all that much.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Logan has a hard time going to sleep and staying asleep, but will cuddle you like his life depends on it, taking care to place his hands in a way that he wouldn't stab you if a nightmare were to occur.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

I think that his past and trauma would kinda be drip-fed to any friends, but in a relationship, anythingbtaht bothers him he will vent about, usually with a drink and a smoke. He will ramble, holding you close and using you as a calming agent while he tells you about his day.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

It's very dependant, so situational. This could go wither way. He could blow up or he could be begging to have a good talk, but ultimately, he does end up having a lower tolerance. He could be patient for a bit, but after that it's like a bomb timer.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Logan remebers EVERYTHING down to that one time you liked the way that that one blade of grass waved in the wind on may 14th 20xx.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

He loves to flaunt the story of how you two got together and met or a first date. Catching you is usually his favorite memories.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Logan cannot stand the idea of you being in danger for him, but he'll willingly put himself in a position to be atomized, vaporized, castrated, or killed just to see you safe and smiling.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Depends on the kind of tasks. He doesn't like most housework but if you need the help, he's usually there. He likes to bring you breakfast in bed on any important day.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Logan is disgusted by the fact that gets a tendency to look down on some of the people that he loves. He starts treating them like their children, and like they can't care for themselves because. If they can... then is he really needed? Dude has the most isecure attachment style known to man.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

He knows he's hot and that's that. Otherwise he doesn't care.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

He probably would feel a little incomplete even with you, it would always linger in his mind if it's the right choice and if it will turn out okay, but you definetly help fill the hole.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

He totally picks his nose every once in awhile and wipes it on his pants but only like once a month max. Very rate and never around somebody.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Can't stand someone who doesn't like forests. He can't stand cities and even more so, he can't stand living in a city or crowded areas for to long. If you want to stay in the city, it's a deal breaker.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Aside from his nightmares, if he's not sleeping with a partner, he will cuddle his pillows. He also drools and snores and starfishes.

[dykedvonte]

What do you think might have happened, if Curly wasn't disabled in the crash? Or, at lest, not as badly hurt? What would the crew dynamic be like in this case?

-💀

If Curly was still able to be an active Captain? Things would be a lot better but still very uncomfortable.

Curly sort of acted like the glue for the crew. No matter what people say, a big reason that everyone played nice was due to his presence, no one other than Jimmy really went out of their way to undermine that. I think the biggest difference is how he's holding them together. He's not unstable per say, but he's so single minded now. If a problem arisses he won't rest until it's "fixed" to an objective extent. He's trying to get them home, likely obssessively staying in the cockpit trying to figure out if he can reach headquarters or get a signal when not obssessing over other minor issues.

Daisuke gets honest about his fear a lot faster. I feel it's both directly related to how much Curly has changed but also realizing he can't see the bright side of every aspect in this situation. I mean, seeing as Curly is active, he now knows what Jimmy did and tried to do and realized just how bad things can get. The situation has always been serious to him but now it's so much harder to find any light anywhere. Gets in on Swansea’s drinking habits heavier and it’s the only thing keeping him from completely breaking in a sad way. Sad jester vibes but starts to take more charge and get into his work. Swansea doesn’t like how similar they are getting.

Swansea wouldn't drink as much. I think they still break into the supply but it's only because he hopes something there will help. Swansea has almost no hope of being rescued so why die as a good man? I think with Curly around he's not as bitter or cynical but more snippy, mad that Curly’s trying to keep procedure and a sense of normalcy. It’s appreciated in the same way you like when someone is nagging you.

Anya is relieved in a hollow sense of the word. Curly is doing more aware and hyper focused on action protecting the crew and finding solutions… but where is the satisfaction in it taking this? She’s sees all his problems and issues and is both disappointed and a bit concerned. Everyone missed his signs and it’s a bit frightening how stressed he was to be leading them. She’s more open to saying her ideas, louder and looks for solutions rather than be shut down. She is still terrified about the baby, it’s always there in her mind now that it isn’t just avoiding Jimmy’s ire. She’s wants to get rescued and is always looking for ways to get out mainly because she doesn’t want to die with her doctorate but also she wants the normalcy. This won’t be her last moment.

Jimmy. Think he’s dead but that’s a cop out. He’s a coward and unless he got stuck in he’s still gonna be crashing out in that hallway. They lock him up and the only reason he’s still not dead is the agreement he deserves to face legal repercussions and his life actually be ruined. He’s quiet and fuming and still trying to ask for one last chance from Curly. They go way back. Their only friends. You know me… He’s in a similar state like towards the end of the game. Unhinged, desperate, to self absorbed to see it’s over. He’s only somewhat civil to Curly and tries his damnedest to get into his head and spit venom.

I honestly think things go smoother, tensions are lowered but so many more interpersonal and personal demons come to the light. We never get to explore the other characters with Jimmy because he doesn’t care but with Curly? It’s gonna be e like a trauma dumping circle.