#using his life/future as a bargaining chip

[captainsparklefingers]

...so turns out Ashton was right to be concerned re: Orym going loose canon.

This is...this is a lot, it was all jokes and stuff when Chetney made his deal but Orym just pledged what could potentially be ETERNAL SERVITUDE TO HIS BFF'S GRANDMA. And that's if they all come back alive!! Fuck!

DAMN YOU LIAM O'BRIAN! AGAIN!

[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!

[joelsrose]

Roses & Rust

Eek!! Guys this is my first ever Joel slow burn fanfic I hope you guys enjoy !! I have the next few chapters ready to post so please let me know if you want me to post them!!! Super slow burn slay .. enjoy babies xx this is not super accurate to the time jump and age in the game and show - reader is late 20s and Joel is late 40’s early 50’s!!

Next chapter

Summary: In a world ravaged by infection and chaos, survival is all that remains. Once a doctor with a life filled with love and promise, you've spent the last eight years fighting your way through a broken landscape, haunted by the loss of everything you once held dear. When a chance encounter with Joel Miller and Tess brings you into the Boston QZ, your journey takes a turn you never expected. As you both navigate the dangers of a post-apocalyptic world, an unexpected romance begins to bloom, fragile and uncertain, against the backdrop of survival.

Chapter 1: Thorns of Survival

Survival. That was all your life had been for the last eight years. Every step, every breath, every decision—focused solely on staying alive. You grunted as you trudged through the overgrown streets, boots caked in mud, legs heavy with exhaustion. The worn-out, hand-drawn map in your hand was a relic from a raider you’d killed days ago—maybe weeks. Time had become meaningless, lost in the blur of surviving. All you could focus on was your destination: the Boston QZ.

The city loomed ahead, a jagged silhouette against the dull, gray sky. Its once-proud buildings, now hollowed-out husks, stood like tombstones marking the death of the world you once knew. You pulled your jacket tighter around yourself, the chill creeping in as the wind picked up. Every step felt heavier than the last, the weight of your pack digging into your shoulders, but you pushed forward, driven by the faint glimmer of hope that the QZ might offer something—anything—resembling stability.

But that was all it was now—just survival. There was a time, eight years ago, when your life had been so much more than that. You were barely 23, freshly graduated from med school, and engaged to the love of your life. Back then, your future had been bright, full of promise. You’d worked so hard, every hour spent studying, every sacrifice made, all to build a life you could be proud of. The career, the home, the family—you had it all mapped out.

And then the outbreak happened.

You hadn’t been prepared for how quickly it would all crumble. One day, you were planning a wedding, discussing where you’d go on your honeymoon. The next, the world had descended into chaos. The infection spread like wildfire, burning through cities, turning people into monsters. The man you’d planned to spend your life with—your future—was ripped away from you in a brutal instant. The infection didn’t even give you time to say goodbye. You could still hear his voice, sometimes, echoing in the back of your mind, telling you everything would be alright. But it wasn’t. It never would be again.

The ache of his loss never left you. It just dulled, becoming part of you, settling in the empty spaces where your future used to be. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t shake the memory of his face, the way he used to make you laugh, the plans you had both dreamed of. You didn’t let yourself think about it too often—not anymore. It hurt too much. There was no room for that kind of pain in this world. It would swallow you whole if you let it.

Your hand instinctively tightened around the strap of your backpack, feeling the reassuring weight of the medical supplies inside—your last real bargaining chip. An assortment of drugs, benzos, antibiotics. Enough to trade for ration cards, enough to buy you time. You’d managed to hold onto them through every close call, every brush with the infected and the living threats alike. That was your edge, your way in.

As you approached the towering walls of the QZ, the scene before you was bleak. Guards patrolled the perimeter, their faces hard, their eyes scanning the crowd with the kind of weariness that came from years of seeing too much. People milled about, dirty, tired, hungry. You didn’t stand out. You were just one more lost soul looking for a way to survive.

A guard stepped forward, stopping you with a rifle slung across his chest. The scanner in his hand beeped to life as he raised it to your forehead. You stood still, barely breathing, until the small device let out a soft beep—green.

“Move along,” he muttered, not even sparing you a glance as he waved you through.

You stepped past the gate, feeling the weight of the city settle around you. Welcome to Boston.

•••

Your living space was barely more than a box. The apartment, if you could even call it that, was wedged in one of the many crumbling buildings in Area 4, packed with people like you—survivors, or at least, those trying to be. The building was a decaying relic of a forgotten world, its walls cracked and peeling, the floors groaning underfoot with every step, as if the weight of too many broken lives was pressing down on it.

Inside, the room was a suffocating, grim little square. A single cot was shoved against the wall, the mattress so thin it felt like you were lying on the floor itself. In one corner, a rusted sink dripped relentlessly, a slow, rhythmic reminder that time was passing—whether you wanted it to or not. Above it hung a small mirror, cracked down the center. You caught your reflection as you passed by, your braid fraying, dark circles hanging like shadows under your eyes. You barely recognized yourself anymore. That bright-eyed girl from eight years ago—freshly graduated, engaged, so full of hope—felt like a ghost haunting someone else’s life.

A small window, smudged and grimy, let in just enough gray light to remind you there was a world outside. But the view wasn’t much—just crumbling concrete and the ever-present silhouettes of soldiers patrolling below.

The few belongings you had were scattered on a makeshift shelf: an old, dog-eared Murakami novel, a half-melted candle, a crumpled photo of a past life. Everything here felt temporary, fleeting.

Under the poor excuse for a bed, you’d stashed your most valuable possession—your bag of medications and supplies. Hidden away, out of sight. In a place like this, trust was a luxury you couldn’t afford.

The Boston QZ felt like a prison. Every inch of it was crawling under the weight of control. Soldiers were everywhere—stoic, unflinching, rifles always at the ready, their eyes sweeping over the crowds with cold detachment.

You never went anywhere without feeling their gaze on you. They were always watching, waiting for someone to slip up. And when they did, the consequences were brutal. You’d seen it in your first few days—one wrong beep from a scanner, one foot out of line, and that was it. No second chances. No mercy. The executions were swift, cold, and left a weight in the air that lingered long after the bodies were gone.

Curfew was like a countdown to death. 6:00 PM to 6:00 AM. No exceptions. You’d watched as people scrambled to get indoors, their eyes darting nervously at the darkening sky, fear written in every step. No one wanted to test the military’s patience. You certainly didn’t.

For the first few weeks, you did what everyone else did—kept your head down, worked random jobs, and stayed in the shadows. The QZ was a labyrinth of desperation, everyone clawing for a foothold. The ration lines seemed to stretch forever, and the food was barely enough to keep people alive, let alone thriving.

But you quickly realized that wasn’t going to cut it. Not if you wanted more than just survival.

You spent your time observing, slipping through the cracks of the city, watching. Areas 1, 3, and 4 were heavily controlled, military checkpoints at every turn. But Area 5—that was different. It was a world unto itself, tucked away from the watchful eyes of FEDRA. The black market thrived here, an underground pulse of illicit trades and dangerous deals. People did what they had to. And you knew you’d have to do the same.

That was when you saw them.

You didn’t know their names yet, but you noticed how they moved through the market with a calm, quiet authority—like they owned it. The woman was tall, sharp-eyed, her voice low but commanding as she negotiated trades with surgical precision. She knew how to read people, how to get what she wanted without ever raising her voice.

The man was quieter, in his late 40s maybe, with a patchy beard of graying hair and hands that looked like they’d seen more than their fair share of rough work. He didn’t need to speak. His presence alone parted crowds, people stepping aside without a word, their eyes flicking nervously in his direction as if they knew better than to cross him.

You watched them for days, curiosity gnawing at you. Who were they? How had they carved out a space for themselves in this cutthroat world? They were always together, moving in sync, but their relationship was unclear. Partners? Lovers? Friends? You didn’t know—and for some reason, it bothered you that you couldn’t tell.

But one thing was certain: they weren’t just surviving. They were thriving. And if you wanted to last here, you needed to figure out how.

•••

The sun was just beginning to set, casting long shadows across the streets as the QZ slowly shifted from its harsh, daylight routine into something even darker. You stood by your window, watching the light fade, waiting for the right moment. The curfew would soon push everyone inside, and the soldiers would become more scarce. You’d been observing their patrols for days, mapping out the routes they took, the blind spots they didn’t bother covering. After all, Area 5 was its own beast, and even FEDRA seemed to know it wasn’t worth patrolling too heavily.

This wasn’t just a gamble—it was the result of days of careful planning. You had finally managed to set up your first trade, something you never would have attempted when you first arrived in the QZ. The world of smuggling and black-market dealings had been foreign to you then, a stark contrast to your life as a doctor. But now, with ration cards running low and survival becoming more desperate by the day, you had no choice but to adapt.

When the streets were finally cloaked in darkness, you grabbed the bag of benzos from under your bed. Your heart hammered in your chest as you slid the strap over your shoulder, casting a glance at the small mirror by the sink.

The alleyways were quieter now, the usual shuffle of desperate people retreating behind closed doors. The only sound was the distant hum of generators and the occasional clatter of boots on concrete. You took the path you’d memorized, the one that snaked through the backstreets where FEDRA never seemed to bother. Every step felt heavier than the last, your nerves gnawing at you. But you kept going.

The alley where the trade would go down was just ahead. Dark and narrow, it was tucked between two abandoned buildings, far from the reach of the patrols. You’d seen it used before—traders slipping in and out, never lingering too long. It seemed perfect for what you needed, but still, the unease in your stomach hadn’t left.

You arrived first, of course. You leaned against the damp brick wall, the weight of the bag heavy against your side as you waited. Your breath was shallow, hands slightly trembling as you clutched the strap tighter. You tried to shake it off. You’d seen others make trades here—dangerous deals, sure, but ones that had paid off.

But as the minutes ticked by, the unease twisted deeper.

He was late.

The alley was darker than you expected, shadows swallowing everything except the faint glow of the streetlight far at the entrance. When he finally appeared, slithering out of the shadows, his grin was wide and crooked, eyes gleaming with something you didn’t like.

“Well, if I knew my trader was such a fine young thing, I would've dressed up for the occasion,” he drawled, his voice dripping with false charm.

Your stomach twisted, regret settling in like a heavy stone. This was a mistake.

You steeled yourself, jaw tight, and handed him the bag. “I’ve got your stuff.”

His smirk deepened as he took it from you, the way his eyes lingered making your skin crawl. “Relax, darlin’. Doesn’t have to be all business,” he murmured, stepping closer, his fingers brushing your arm.

Your blood ran cold. His hand lingered too long, his body closing the space between you, and you felt panic surge. You’d faced the infected, raiders, betrayal—but men like him were something worse. They looked at you like you were nothing but an opportunity. Your heart raced, but your feet stayed frozen, rooted to the ground by fear.

And then, a voice cut through the dark.

“Let her go.”

The voice was low, steady, with a hint of an accent—something southern, but rough around the edges. It sent a chill down your spine.

The thug stiffened, his smirk fading as he glanced over your shoulder. You turned slowly, and there he was—the man you’d been watching for weeks. Tall, broad-shouldered, his eyes cold and sharp as steel. The weight of his presence was enough to make the trader in front of you hesitate.

“This isn’t your business, man,” the thug sneered, though there was a crack of fear in his voice.

The man took a step forward, his hand resting casually on the gun at his hip. “It is now.”

The tension in the air was thick, almost tangible. The thug wasn’t stupid. He knew when he was outmatched. With a frustrated growl, he tossed the bag of benzos at your feet and slunk back into the shadows.

You stood there, heart pounding, too shocked to even say thank you. The man stepped forward, his eyes flicking down at the bag before meeting yours. His gaze was piercing, and you felt like he could see right through you—like he knew exactly who you were and everything you’d been through.

“Next time,” he said quietly, his voice steady, “watch who you deal with.”

And just like that, he turned and disappeared into the shadows, as easily as he had arrived.

You stood there, shaken to your core, but with one thing clear in your mind: your world had just collided with his.

[internetskiff]

Breen's unfortunately pretty underrated amongst the Valve antagonists, which I suppose is understandable compared to the likes of GLaDOS or The Administrator, but just like those two I feel like there's plenty of things to talk about when it comes to him. He seems like a very conflicted character, especially if you take into account the BreenGrub account and Laidlaw's Epistle 3. First of all is, of course, the leadup to the Black Mesa incident, with the G-Man seemingly making an offer to Breen which seemingly involved overloading the Anti-Mass Spectrometer while processing an extremely pure sample of Xen Crystal - and yes, while it's pretty obvious that the order to overload the systems was very intentional and motivated by whatever deal they struck, I believe that when it comes to the aftermath he may have been sold on a lie. Considering his actions as Administrator of Earth being entirely in the interests of keeping Humanity from feeling the full force of the Combine, I don't think "Becoming the de facto leader of all of Earth" was on his agenda. Perhaps G-Man promised that whatever their deal would entail would bring about a prosperous future for humanity, perhaps all he promised was the possibility of establishing contact with another sentient species (which is something he technically did provide), or perhaps it was something else - there's simply way too much room for speculation there, I think.

A little detail from a HL:A newspaper implies that his position as Earth's administrator wasn't exactly handed to him on a silver platter, instead he had to go out of his way to reach out to the governments with information on how to communicate with the invaders, at which point, already beaten down by Combine forces, they simply gave him the all-clear to speak for all of mankind. This still begs the question of who, or what, gave him the knowledge of how to speak with them - however, it's safe to say if they didn't, Earth would've been left a smoldering pile of rocks and withered carcasses. Once again, he acts with Humanity's best interests in mind, having to choose between the lesser of two evils - it's either enslavement or extinction. He simply chose the option in which Humanity would survive, even if just for a little while longer.

And ever since, we're watching the aftermath. He's trying to talk the last generation of Humanity down, so they may either pass of old age or be absorbed into the Combine - at least if that happens, something gets preserved. Once again, the alternative? They'll just wipe the slate once they get the local teleportation technology they desire. Breen sees no other way than to go along with their demands. He's eventually proven wrong, of course, but he refuses to see the Rebellion as anything but a suicidal march towards the extinction of the human race, and he sticks to that belief up until he is killed by Gordon at the tip of the Citadel. Of course, this doesn't make him a good person. Not at all. This belief has lead him to seek out and destroy anyone who tries to resist. He shows no sympathy to them. He paints them as fools. He himself believes it so. This intense hatred for anyone who resists is seen perfectly in how he treats the Vance family. He views them as fools. As narrow-minded rabble in the streets, senselessly struggling against a tide beyond their comprehension. He's willing to send off a father and his daughter into a world far beyond simply to use them as a bargaining chip. Listening to the two comfort eachother as they're almost raised up to a fate surely worse than death, the only expression on his face is that of pure contempt and annoyance. He's a very fascinating character that I wish Valve would explore again if they ever do another Half Life set during a time period in which he was still alive. He's a coward that easily bends to the oppressor, yet in the end he only does it to make sure something survives. He's cruel to those who resist because he's completely convinced they're going to get everyone killed. He is the Combine's perfect puppet.

haha anyhoo so why was he straight up serving on the magazine covers in HL:A like what was up with all that

[magicalbats]

Kinktober 2024 Day 10: Thoma x Reader

Rating: R-18+

Word Count: 6545

Warnings: Afab!reader, betrothal (to Ayato) drugging, nonconsensual somnophilia, possessive behavior, piv, creampie

A/N: Very excited for this one since I didn't get to Thoma's entry for last years Kinktober, but trust that I do love this boy a ton. 🤭

⭐

As the venerated housekeeper of the Kamisato clan, Thoma was allotted a great deal of access to things that would have otherwise been strictly withheld from him, both as someone not of the family bloodline and especially because of his foreign ties to Mondstadt. Of course he’d never abuse that power or give his masters any reason to doubt his loyalty, and yet … oh, sometimes he was very tempted to throw his good sense away whenever you were involved. 

It wasn’t always like this though, when you were first brought to the estate as some kind of bargaining chip. That’s what Ayato had called you anyway, and it was only much later that he’d learned you were more like a hostage being safeguarded in the enemy stronghold. 

The young master didn’t actually want you as a future bride but as always he was willing to do whatever it took to secure the clan’s recovering standing in the political and social spheres. You were simply a tool for him to manipulate however he deemed necessary in order to get what he wanted. 

But Thoma was a sympathetic individual by nature and although he didn’t fully understand the life you’d lived as an Inazuman noble before being traded off to the Kamisato’s in exchange for certain favors, he still knew enough to pity the lack of freedom you had. First it was your powerful politician father making all your decisions for you, and now it was Ayato who would make them for you instead. It seemed a sad way to exist, particularly when he found himself thinking of Lady Ayaka and the way she might have otherwise been used as a pawn had her brother been just a little less doting and softhearted for her. 

So he’d made it a point to give you every chance he could to make decisions on your own, even if they were only the small, inconsequential sort his master wouldn’t have bothered with dictating anyway. 

Would you like barley tea or green today, my lady? 

Over easy or sunny side up, a Mondstadt specialty he’d be happy to cook up just for you. 

Blue curtains or white? 

It had seemed like little more than a casual game of temporary make believe at the start of all this. Just a short lived reprieve from the reality of the situation wherein you were no longer that helpless so-called bargaining chip who’d appeared outside the front gate one day and he was no longer a mere housekeeper. And it was exceptionally fun while it lasted, until eventually something in his heart started to shift. 

You were suddenly more than just a simple noblewoman or his master's future bride-to-be, but a friend. And then, something more. Thoma didn’t understand his own feelings very much in this situation when he knew he’d never have a real chance to be with you. Even if you weren’t politically engaged to his master, he was still only a half breed and you the daughter of nobility. The stars had never been in his favor no matter how he looked at it, and yet he still couldn’t seem to stop himself from wanting you. It was foolish, not to mention incredibly ill advised, but the longer it goes on the more he can’t help but wonder if it would be worth it to risk everything for you. 

Sometimes he’s convinced it would be, without a doubt. 

Loyalty and obligation always stop him from acting on it though. 

But then one sunny afternoon when the two of you are standing outside on the meticulously maintained pavers, seeing off your lord and lady together, it occurs to him that this just might be his chance. He was going to be alone with you until sometime the following evening so your customary game of pretend could go on uninterrupted until then. It probably wasn’t much different than kids playing house with each other but … it’s still a rare opportunity for him to speak with you candidly, if he was brave enough to take it. 

“Are you listening, Thoma?” 

Head snapping up at Ayato’s politely hedging tone, the blond offers his master an apologetic laugh. “Forgive me, my lord. I was just thinking about what I might cook for dinner with it being only the two of us tonight.” 

“Yes, I suppose this is an uncommon occurrence, isn’t it? It’s not often both my sister and I are gone at the same time so that does change your usual plans.” With a vague smile, Ayato turns his attention to where you were standing next to his housekeeper with your hands neatly folded in front of you. “I trust you’ll keep each other company in our absence? Perhaps you can go shopping together.”

In terms of suggestions, this one is gentle and it comes off as perfectly benign but you still slowly drop your attention to the ground as if abashed. It makes Thoma’s heart achingly tug in his chest, for he understood that fetching groceries was not something you were accustomed to having to do. Ayato seemed determined for you to learn how to take care of domestic matters yourself rather than relying on the staff to do it for you though, and this was far from the first instance where he’d gently nudged you so.

In truth, Thoma doesn’t like it very much but there was nothing he could do about it. He was always happy to dote on you and spoil you with little treats in privacy, but he couldn’t outright go against his master’s orders. If Ayato wanted you to learn how to competently run a house then that was what you would have to do, regardless of Thoma’s feelings on the matter. 

“We’ll make sure to bring back souvenirs.” Ayaka chimes in, largely oblivious to the undercurrent of tension that runs between you and her brother, but still always eager to be helpful. “I hope you don’t find it too terribly boring in the house all by yourselves, so please don’t hesitate to go out if you think of something fun to do.”

“Thank you, Lady Ayaka.” You murmur with a gracious nod of your chin. 

“Thank you, my lady. I trust you’ll have a safe trip.” Thoma tacks on, keeping his voice light and cheery to distract from his own feelings on the matter. “Everything will be just fine, I promise. We’ll be right here to welcome you back when you return.” 

Standing side by side, you and Thoma watch the siblings board the waiting ox driven palanquin after issuing their final goodbyes to the two of you. With a rumbling lurch, the enclosed carriage lumbers off down the road headed straight for the near distant Chinju Forest and, even further than that, the bustling city. 

For a prolonged moment neither of you speaks or makes a move to go back inside, both likely waiting on the other to make the decision first. He understood that Ayato leaving him in charge of the household while he was gone meant that you would automatically defer to him but you were still a noble and should have been the one calling the shots here. It had the potential to make for a very awkward atmosphere if he didn’t nip it in the bud now. 

“So,” He blurts before he can second guess himself, turning a kind smile on you. “What shall we have tonight, my lady? We don’t get opportunities like this very much so choose whatever you want and I’ll prepare it for us later.” 

A look of mild relief flashes across your face but you quickly lift the corner of your sleeve to hide the tentative curve of your mouth. “Is that really alright? Then … could we have curry, Thoma?” 

His heart gives another tug at that, except it’s an affectionate pull this time. He’d quickly realized that your palate skewed towards an almost childish sense of taste and the more simple a dish was, the better. It was hard to say if it was just a personal quirk or simply one developed by a picky eater who was used to having their proclivities catered to but, whatever the reason, he found it rather cute. 

It was also good news for him because curry was an easy dish to make that required very little in the way of ingredients, least of all anything that he shouldn’t already have on hand. That would likely save you from at least one shopping trip. 

“Of course we can! Y’know, I was actually thinking the same thing myself.” 

Your head comes up with a hopeful little smile. “Really?” 

No, but you didn’t need to know that. 

“Yeah, curry’s always a good choice in my book. Good pick.” Reaching out, Thoma politely offers you his hand which you readily accept, showing none of your earlier reticence now that it was just the two of you. It was exactly the sort of ease of conversation he’d been hoping for. “Come on, let’s go back in. Would you like me to prepare some tea and an afternoon snack to hold you over until dinner?” 

“Yes, please. That sounds lovely.” 

Guiding you by the hand, Thoma escorts you inside the sprawling manor home and back into the small sitting room attached to your bed chamber. As a male servant he’d never been inside before but the brief glimpses he’d caught on the rare occasion had tempted him greatly. Even now he can feel its exigent pull enticing him to take you inside and lay you down across the goose feather futon so he can kiss every inch of your body. 

Instead he gets you situated at the stout little table sat just inside the sliding shoji doors which he then moves to open and let some fresh air in before turning back to you again. 

“What sort of tea would you like today?” 

You think on that only briefly. “Do we still have the kukicha tea I’m partial to?” 

“Certainly. I make sure to stay stocked up on it now that I know you like it so much. I’ll be right back.”

Taking his leave, Thoma bustles down to the kitchen where he gets to work preparing everything with a little hop in his step. He’s so eager to spend this much uninterrupted time with you, in fact, that he almost feels a bit guilty for it. Surely this was betraying Ayato’s trust in some way? To covet his master's future wife was just asking for trouble in the long run but, he tries to convince himself, what Ayato didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. 

Except he would know, wouldn’t he? If Thoma actually broached the topic of his feelings for you there was a chance it could get back to his master somehow. He didn’t think you would outright tell Ayato anything, because you barely speak to him at all outside of polite niceties, but if you started behaving differently around the family housekeeper … 

Ayato was far too clever not to suspect if he didn’t already. Suddenly Thoma was much less certain that he was brave enough to take on the risk and not quite as excited anymore as result. 

But then something catches his attention when he’s digging in the cabinet for the tin of tea leaves he’s looking for. A small glass vial of liquid pushed off to the side that he distantly recognizes as a powerful sleep tonic. The elderly Furuta sometimes used it to help her sleep at night through the aches and pains in her joints, and Thoma himself had even prepared it for her on a few occasions. He wasn’t quite sure of its efficacy but now that his mind has alighted upon it as a potential solution for his problems, he finds it incredibly difficult to reject the possibilities it presented. 

He’s almost horrified at the direction his own thoughts are taking. 

There was no way he’d actually go so far as to drug you … right? 

But he’s considering it very deeply. Not with any nefarious purposes in mind, of course, but just to perhaps test the waters. If you were relaxed enough to let it slip how you felt about him he could better figure out how to handle this situation without running half of the risk that came with it. And if it was bad and you showed him no reciprocal interest at all, there was a good chance you’d be so sleepy that you wouldn’t even recall the conversation happening in the first place. 

It seemed like the perfect chance to weigh his future decisions more accurately than he currently could, but did he really dare to do it? 

Wracked with indecision, Thoma hesitates for a tortuously long moment before at last reaching out to curl his fingers around the little vial. His stomach feels like it’s twisting itself in anxious knots as he pulls the bottle out to give its sloshing contents a closer inspection. On one hand he knew that this was way over the line and he didn’t really deserve to have you if this was the kind of underhanded tactics he had to resort to. 

But on the other there was no telling when next he might get the opportunity if he didn’t take it now. His indecision might very well cost him his only chance to talk to you without causing even greater problems for himself in the long run. At least doing it this way was close to harmless and the worst you might get out of it was a very sound nap. 

He curses his own weakness as he straightens up after grabbing the tin of tea leaves so he can finish getting everything ready. His nerves almost get the better of him and nearly stay his hand but ultimately the temptation proves far too great for him to resist. A few drops of the tonic are added into your steeping tea and then, just to be certain you wouldn’t remember anything, he adds a few more. He just sorely hoped he wasn’t making a monumental mistake in doing this. 

Feeling sick with some crushing amalgamation of guilt and anxious uncertainty, Thoma loads everything up on a tray and carries it back to where you��re patiently waiting for him. At the sound of the door opening, you turn to smile at him as he steps into the room and it just makes him feel all the worse for what he’s about to do to you. 

But that doesn’t stop him from placing the tea and small bowl of carefully selected rice crackers down in front of you, along with an even smaller dish he’d filled with a handful of colorful konpeito. 

You always love the little treats he sneaks you when no one is looking, and of course that’s the first thing you reach for. Popping a tiny blue sugar cluster in your mouth, you hum a happy sound that makes his heart cartwheel inside his chest as he gets himself situated across from you with a cup of his own. Undrugged, of course. 

He could almost kick himself for actually going through with this but it’s much too late for him to start having second thoughts now. All he can do is nervously watch you take up your tea to blow on the wafting steam coming up off it before taking a sip. 

Slowly blinking, you tip your face down to look inside the cup with a curious expression. 

“Is something wrong, my lady?” He asks, hating the slight waver in his voice. Luckily you don’t seem to pick up on it though. 

“No, I don’t think so. It just tastes a bit different from usual, that’s all.” 

“O - oh? I’m so sorry. Please, let me remake it for you.” All but jumping at the chance to take back what he now recognized beyond any shadow of doubt to be a horrible mistake, Thoma starts to get up yet you’re quick to wave it off. 

“It’s alright. There’s no need to trouble yourself, I promise. I don’t think it tastes bad, just different.” 

“Ah, well … if you’re sure then, my lady?” 

To his mounting regret, you are indeed certain that the tea is at least agreeable enough to drink and you proceed to sip on it without another thought to the matter over the following few minutes. He briefly considers snatching it away from you or demanding you hand it over to him, but he recognized that that would be far too suspicious on his part. Even for as much as you seemed to trust him, there was no way you wouldn’t pick up on the fact that something was amiss. 

So he just watches you gradually drink it down until there’s nothing left and the snacks are all gone save his own half eaten cracker. In truth he was feeling a bit too nauseous to finish it or his tea for that matter, but he readily writes it off as not being particularly hungry when you ask.  

And then ever so slowly your eyelids seem to grow heavy with fatigue, making it harder and harder for you to keep your gently nodding head held up. Thoma is admittedly rather impressed at how quickly the tonic starts to work, having never stayed with Furuta to observe the effect it has on the elderly woman, but then thrumming uncertainty takes hold of him when you begin to slouch. 

Had he put too much of the stuff in your drink or was this normal? 

He’s honestly not sure, and he anxiously watches you struggle to stay awake even when it was apparent that you were quickly losing the fight. 

“Are you alright?” He finally dares to ask in a small voice that makes you twitch your drooping head back up. 

“Mm’ fine. Just sleepy.” 

His brows take a very expeditious trip up to his hairline. You almost sounded like you were drunk, which was something he’d never heard coming from you before. Was that elixir really supposed to be this powerful? 

“I see. Would you … like me to help you into bed, my lady?” 

Sluggishly shaking your head, you valiantly try to rouse yourself back to wakefulness again. “No, but thank you, Thoma. It’s the middle of the day. I can’t —“ You cut off with a sudden yawn that you bring the wide brim of your sleeve up to politely cover. “Mmm, I can’t be caught lazing about in bed, can I?” 

“I won’t tell anyone.” He tries hopefully but you once again shake your head. 

“S’alright. I’ll just. Close my eyes for a moment. Right here.” 

His heart hammering a panicked rhythm inside his chest, Thoma watches you slowly sink down onto the floor on your side of the table. He quickly pushes up on his knees to lean across and peer over the edge of it, using his considerable height to his advantage. Sure enough, you’re curled up in a tight little ball with the sleeves of your kimono tucked up by your face. Out cold by the looks of it. 

Great Narukami, what has he done? As if drugging you wasn’t bad enough, now you were sleeping on the floor? 

Telling himself that it was imperative he stay calm in a situation like this, Thoma stands up and carefully shuts the shoji doors to hide his wrongdoings from the rest of the world before walking around to kneel next to you. He’s more than just slightly relieved to find you still breathing when he places a gentle hand on your shoulder but you don’t even stir at his touch. Your breaths are so deep and evened out that he knows with absolute certainty you wouldn’t be waking up any time soon even if he were to try shaking you awake, and he can’t help feeling a bit disappointed at that.

So much for his chance to talk to you. 

“I’m so sorry, my lady.” He wretchedly sighs. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I hope you’ll forgive me.” 

Observing the steady rise and fall of your topmost shoulder another a moment longer, Thoma at last decides that the least he can do is carry you to bed. It wasn’t right to let you sleep on the floor anyway, but he would have been beside himself if you ended up catching a cold due to his own negligence. 

So he reaches out to carefully nudge you over onto your back and get his hands under you to lift, but that’s about as far as he makes it. The shift turns your peaceful face up at him and stops him in his tracks. The slight part of your slackened lips catch his attention more than anything else, but it’s a truly ethereal picture you paint like this. Like some kind of sleeping goddess the ancients would have told tales about. 

Against his better judgment, he finds himself carefully weighing his options out. It’s a terrible thing to even consider and he knows it’s a choice that would make you hate him if you ever found out but … one kiss couldn’t hurt, could it? Just a quick peck to sate the yearning in his heart and then he’d put you right to bed where you would be safe and sound to sleep off the effects of the tonic. 

Sure, it was a little selfish of him and it was also wrong for a commoner as he was to presume such of a noble. It should have been Ayato kissing you as a fellow member of the Inazuman upper class, not him, but Ayato didn’t seem to have any genuine interest or affection for you. And if Thoma was reading the situation right, you didn’t have any love to give him either. 

Wasn’t it better to be kissed by someone whose feelings for you were earnest and sincere? Even if you would never know that the kiss had even happened in the first place or that the loyal housekeeper cared for you so deeply he was willing to risk everything he had for nothing more than a slim chance? 

Swallowing down his nerves with a great deal of difficulty, Thoma nervously licks his lips before leaning forward to brace his hands on the floor and bracket your head between them. Still, you do not stir, nor do your lashes so much as flutter at the soft creak from the tatami. It seemed harmless enough, or so he tries to convince himself as he carefully lowers to hover just over your mouth. 

Your breath is sweet and carries with it vague notes of tea when it wafts over his face mere millimeters from yours. A tense shudder works through him, his breathing coming a little quicker now as he drags his gaze over your perfectly at ease expression. You’d never know. Just one kiss, that’s all. 

Closing the scant distance, Thoma tentatively places his lips against yours in such a soft, featherlite brush that it probably wouldn’t have even registered in his mind were it not for the vague tingle of static that bleeds into his skin at the point of contact. It’s almost like a slow motion zap of electricity that sends his heart galloping out of control and his stomach further twists itself up into a tangled mess as he sucks in a rattling breath. 

He has no idea what to make of it or even what to think, beyond the one simple thought that he needed more. Once wasn’t enough and he was a fool for ever deluding himself into believing that it was. 

Groaning a quiet sound, he immediately gives in to the temptation and kisses you again, firmly this time. Your lips are warm and softly inviting against his own even when you make no move to reciprocate or pull away. You remain completely slack and pliant underneath him as he places a series of increasingly desperate, coaxing pecks to your mouth in hopes that you might give some sign that you felt something for him too. 

Of course you don’t, though. It was obvious now that he’d used a bit too much of the tonic and you remain completely unaware of what’s happening as he works your lips open so he can slip his tongue inside to taste you. It almost comes as a shock to him, when the distinct flavor of you washes over his taste buds, and he distantly wonders how he’d let it get to this point. 

But it’s like he can’t stop now that he’s started and, blindly reaching up to yank his plated headband off so he can toss it across the floor, Thoma hungrily sinks into you with an increasing sense of urgency. Not only did he need you, it felt like he just might die if he didn’t follow through on the demanding pull of his body. How could one person be so perfect and lovely, yet always be kept right out of his reach? It wasn’t fair to expect him to only look but never touch, especially when his master didn’t really seem to want anything to do with you at all. 

Surely you would have been much happier being betrothed to him instead. 

Surely he could’ve made you happy in taking care of your every need and never making you do the grocery shopping yourself. 

“I’m sorry,” He mutters against your now kiss swollen lip, gasping into the razor thin space between you two. 

Still you don’t respond, too far gone in the peaceful embrace of slumber to even hear him. That was probably for the best though, he thinks, considering how jittery and anxious he feels as he sits up to fumble the bracer off his left arm and then his gloves are quickly discarded too. Shrugging out of his jacket to leave just the black shirt underneath, Thoma leans back down to peck a lingering kiss to the corner of your mouth, your chin and then the narrow strip of flesh just below that. 

To get at anything else he has to unfold the neck of your kimono but that quickly turns into shoving at the rest to get it out of the way before he even fully realizes he’s doing it. The obi around your middle makes it virtually impossible to completely disrobe you without first sitting you upright somehow, which even in the height of his fanatic delirium he knows better than to do. So he resorts to simply tugging at the high quality material until it’s pulled back enough to expose your chest to his voracious gaze. 

Your breasts are heavy in a way that makes his mouth water uncontrollably as soon as he lays on them, and he reaches out to reverently cup them in his palms. The nipples dotting them are smooth, softened little buds, but they quickly start to stiffen when he gives your tits a slow motion squeeze to feel the fleshy give under his fingers. 

Suddenly realizing what he’s doing, Thoma stills over top of you and just stares for a long stretch of moments. How had he gotten to this point? And so quickly at that. 

He’s a bit amazed at his own lack of self control, how little encouragement he’d actually needed to just help himself like this. But there’s no denying that you feel good, taste good, smell good in a way that’s intoxicating to every single one of his senses. And it’s not as if he was hurting you or ever would for that matter. It was just touching you. 

And then he leans down to take one of your half hard nipples in his mouth, and it quickly becomes just licking you. His laving tongue rapidly turns the soft peak fleshy and stiff, which he greedily sucks towards the back of his throat as if trying to instinctively coax warm milk out of you. 

That’s when you finally give your first subconscious reaction in the form of a breathy sigh that makes your chest rise and then fall against his face. It almost sufficiently scares him off from going any further, just that brief implication that you might wake up and catch him red handed. But when he sits up to look at you, he finds that your face is still completely relaxed and there isn’t even so much as a twitch behind your eyelids.

Drawing a shuddering breath to calm his nerves, Thoma slides his hand up to carefully idle his thumb back and forth over your spit coated teat. The only response he gets is a breathy little sound that registers as suspiciously reminiscent of a moan in his ringing ears. 

Did that mean you liked it then? Were you possibly enjoying this on some innate, purely physical level? 

But if you wanted this as he wanted it then — 

His stirring cock immediately springs up to push against the interior of his pants as a faltering low groan escapes his mouth. The realization that he could make you feel good unlike anyone else ever had spurs him on in a way that very nearly steals his breath away. He’d never been quite this hard or quite this desperate to settle himself between someone’s legs before, and he knew on some deeply intrinsic level that that had to mean something. Your body was responding to him even when your higher functioning mind was completely oblivious to what was happening, and that had to count for something, didn’t it? 

Hunching closer, Thoma brings his other set of fingers up to tweak the opposite nipple and tease it to a stiff, seeking point as well. This one he also takes into his mouth and suckles, switching back and forth between the two buds until both are flushed a darker shade than when he’d started and achingly stiff. The unconscious way you begin to restlessly shift assures him that you liked what he was doing to you and encourages him to keep going far beyond what he’d initially said he would. 

He tells himself it’s for you though, for your pleasure, for your sake, not his, as he works his way lower to pull the bottom half of your kimono open and expose your decidedly grabbable thighs to his line of sight. The thin band of cotton around your hips keeps your pussy hidden from him but he can clearly make out the outline of pudgy soft lips through the flimsy garment. He almost feels faint from the sheer extent of his own arousal as he reaches out to lightly trace his fingertips along that tender center seam, only feeling more emboldened when you let out another soft sigh. 

On some level Thoma realizes he’s starting to sweat rather profusely, his own frazzled nerves coupled with the intense throb of his arousal making him feel incredibly hot, but he forces himself to take it nice and slow as he teases over your cunt. He almost can’t believe he’s actually thinking about following this through straight to its natural conclusion despite how grossly irresponsible and foolish it would be of him to do so. But your continued silence registers as approval, especially when you subconsciously nudge your hips up to follow the pressure of his hand. 

Clearly you didn’t hate it and if he was going to do this, he wanted to make sure you were ready first. He’d never hurt you no matter how worked up he got. And it doesn’t take a genius to realize you were in much the same state of arousal, given both the way you increasingly fidget there on the floor and the damp spot that slowly bleeds through your underwear as well. He couldn’t bear the thought of not taking care of you and attending to your needs when you were like this. 

“Alright, let’s get these off now.” Thoma finally whispers to you even as his heart pounds a violent rhythm inside his chest. 

Hooking his fingers in your underwear, he makes careful work of slowly easing them down your hips. His first glimpse of the soft hair and the fleshy slit running up your body very nearly has him shooting off inside his pants, and he groans a wounded little sound while he forces himself to stay focused on the task at hand. 

Leaving your tabi socks in place when he unhooks the panties from your ankles, Thoma carefully spreads your legs out across the floor to bear your sweet cunt to him. Even at just a glance he can spot the fine sheen of moisture glistening along the creases and folds, but he still takes a moment to touch you with his hand and test the slick quality for himself. You were quite wet, actually, and more than ready for him by the looks of it. 

Did he really dare to take it that far though? 

The nagging little voice of reason in the back of his mind manages to give him pause, kneeling there with you completely laid out before him in an inviting pile of splayed limbs and womanly curves. 

Unfortunately the demanding flex of his aching cock overrides his better judgment, and he quietly seethes as he reaches down to fumble with his pants. He can’t seem to free himself quickly enough, nearly sobbing in relief when he at last takes his rigid length in hand. Giving it a brief, ginger squeeze in hopes of dissuading his impending release even a little bit, he uses the other to lift the hem of his black shirt so he can stick it in his mouth and keep it out of the way. 

Hopefully it would also help keep his voice down, but given how tightly his balls were already drawing up in warning, he wasn’t so sure it would do much good. 

Feeling faint and delirious, he at last nudges closer to line himself up, taking a moment to just draw his leaking cockhead through your sticky slit. And he almost backs out at the last second, his heart telling him that this wasn’t right. There was a whole host of things wrong with this but the least of which was that you were almost certainly a virgin. He’d be deflowering you in doing this and taking the chastity that for all intents and purposes should have gone to Ayato. No matter how much neither of you seemed to care for one another, it was still a part of the contract. Did Thoma really have the right to claim that for himself? 

Probably not, but he tells himself it’ll be just the tip. Just enough for him to feel you embracing him in the tight, wet squeeze of your body and then he’d pull right out. No harm, no foul. 

Except that small allowance quickly proves not enough as soon as he starts to sink that little bit into you. The sensation is beyond anything he could have ever imagined it to be or braced himself for, and he hisses an overwhelmed sound into the still air. ‘Just the tip’ turns into a greater allowance of ‘one more inch’, and then another, and another, until he eventually finds his pelvis settling snug against yours. 

Panting and gasping for breath, Thoma makes a desperate attempt to keep his head on straight and think through the disorienting fog that hangs heavy over him. It’s no use though. You feel too good for him to deny himself the urge to thrust into you, which he does with a careful, slow motion flex of his locked hips. A wild shudder races through him at just that brief amount of friction, making him lurch and drop the end of his shirt in favor of moaning your name. 

You don’t respond to that either, of course, but your pussy has completely accepted him and he simply can’t conceive stopping now. So he thrusts again, rallying every ounce of his self control to keep his orgasm at bay, and you issue a threadbare whimper when he seems to knock something inside you this time. 

“Shh, shh. It’s alright. I’ve got you. I — auughhn, bless the gods, I’ll take care of you, my lady. Don’t worry. Just hold on for me, okay?” 

Softly cooing breathless reassurances at you, Thoma stiffly fucks himself into the clinging grip of your cunt. Each push and pull draws a sticky little click out of you, further feeding into his own shameful desire and encouraging him to keep going. For your sake, not his. Right? 

He just wanted you to feel good, that’s all. 

But everything about you is like an all powerful compulsion, a sweet drug he couldn’t help but covet for himself even when he should have known better. 

You belonged with him, not Ayato, and this was proof enough of that, wasn’t it? 

You were softly sighing pleasured little sounds because of him, not his master. 

Your breasts were gently heaving with the shuddering push of his hips working against you, not anyone else’s, puffy nipples straining for more of his attention. 

And your tight little cunt was like a vice around Thoma’s cock, squeezing him in a sedate pulse that he thinks must mirror your heartbeat for as steady it is. It’s like you were subconsciously trying to milk him dry, instinctively seeking out that which only he could give you. 

This was his rightful spot between your legs, not Ayato’s. 

���M - my lady!” He suddenly croaks, lurching over top of you when an intense, bone deep spasm rocks through him with a truly aggressive shudder. 

All at once he’s cumming, twitching sensitively through an orgasm he’d tried to hold back but can’t seem to stop now that it’s happening. He also can’t bring himself to pull out of you, shooting off wildly inside your cunt to paint it creamy and white. Even in the blinding height of his release he can tell that he’s filling you up to the brim with the fat load he deposits into you, and it quickly starts to dribble out around his flexing cock when he slows the motion of his hips to a savory grind. 

And it’s over in an instant. 

He doesn’t even get enough time to fully bask in the relief that comes with release before clarity slams into him like a solid brick. Hunched over you and gasping for air, Thoma instantly realizes how badly he’s messed up. He shouldn’t have done this. Not any of it, but least of all this. Cumming inside you … what was he even thinking? 

Gingerly, he moves to pull out of you with a sloppy wet slurp that makes him wince before sitting back on his knees to inspect the damage. One look between your spread thighs is enough to nearly send him spiraling into full blown panic. He didn’t know how to fix this or if there was even anything he could reasonably do about it at this point, but the evidence of his misdeeds was clear as day. 

The sticky glob of semen dripping out of your flushed cunt to track down the crease was beyond damning. It might as well have been a death sentence.

⭐

Cross posted: here

[sanyu-thewitch05]

I need more messed up female reader inserts. More ambitious, manipulative, unapologetically cut throat characters. So for this next idea I have a Male Yandere General X Female Reader Noblewoman.

General premise…reader Darling is a noblewoman whose family took in a slave mother and son during young childhood because they looked more unique compared to other slaves on the market. (I have no idea what type of era this is set in, but maybe this is more fantasy based?) Darling is a prodigy and sees the slave son (whose the yandere) natural gifts at combat/weaponry, so convinces her father to make the boy into a soldier for their family to use to win favor of the royal family. Darling manipulates the boy for years, knowing full well his romantic feelings for her. She promises to marry him  and give him his freedom, as long as he keeps climbing the military ranks, winning battles/wars, and contributing to their noble family name. Darling knows that doing this will ensure an easy bargaining chip with the royal family and the general people that her family deserves to be “rewarded” for their contributions to the kingdom. In other words, Darling wants to be future Queen, always has, and she’s seen poor yandere as nothing but a pawn. After yandere comes back from latest brutal war, he hears the news of Darling’s engagement to the crown Prince. Heartbroken and betrayed, he snaps and launches a coup (which is quite easy because the kingdom loves yandere more than the royal family), granting Darling’s wish of becoming future Queen…just not the way she imagined…And Darling will always be the apple of his eye, but maybe she should “earn” and “fight” her way up to Queen from slave, just as he had to fight from hell and back all his life from slave to king. Couple goals, am I right?

A/N: Finally finished this ask! I hope you like the twist and many hints within this. BTW, this is more tame and doesn't have smut. It does have a happy ending though. Anyway, I hope you enjoy reading this!

TW: Mentions of drugging

You were always meant for greater things. Luckily, you have a plan as to how to get it. First, you must work your way up the nobility ladder until you reach the prince. Then, seduce the prince and bear him children to secure your throne. But that takes time, and time is limited when you're a human. So you took a shortcut and used the latest Elve slaves to help you. The son, Rhys, around your age (14), possesses great potential, not only in magic but in swordsmanship. So, you convinced your father to put him in knight school. Behind the scenes, you make false promises of freedom and marriage to him.

The one condition he has to follow is to keep climbing the military ranks and contributing to the family name. He believed it like a fool, and soon enough, he became your personal knight. A knight in shining armor or a white knight in a way. Rhys was always around you. Which led to him witnessing your most vulnerable moments.

"Milady, wake up. My lady!" Rhys whispers, secretly using his magic to float up to your levitating body.

"Hm?" You moan, waking up and realizing your body is floating several inches into the air.

"You were doing it again."

"Sorry, Rhy."

You think of a feather slowly falling, and you're on the mattress again. Rhys climbs onto the bed and sits next to you. He lets you climb into the safety of his arms for sleep.

"Please don't tell anyone, Rhys," You say, resting your head on Rhys's chest.

"I won't, milady," Rhys says, rubbing your head until you go to sleep.

The next morning, your mother took you to a cottage in the wilderness near the Elves's kingdom for your 16th birthday.

Then, one brutally hot summer day in your delicate 21st year of age, war broke out with the Elf kingdom. King Faenelis of the Elves used magic to fight the war. This created a problem for your kingdom, and so Rhys, other elves, or mages were sent to war. Admittedly, you missed his presence around the manor. You missed him teaching you things about his culture. You missed the gifts from the forest he would give you. But, good news came, and your dream came true. The prince of your kingdom, Prince Calion Veranda, proposed to you at a ball you attended after a night of drinking, dancing, and mock swordfights.

You immediately moved out of the manor and began your life at the castle. You were so happy with the prince that you forgot about the war until it arrived at your doorstep.

"Kill the prince, but spare the girl!" A familiar voice screams, the sound of footsteps coming towards you.

"Go into the tunnels and keep running. I'll find you!" Calion whispers, pushing you away.

You run into the tunnels, and your brain rings from the sound of water dropping and hearing your own footsteps. The tunnels seem never-ending. Suddenly, as if you're losing your mind, whispers start to echo through the stone walls.

"My love, come back."

"I'm here for you."

"I can hear you."

"I feel you."

"I know you."

"Did you really think you could run away?"

"Ooh! Would you shut up?!" You scream, making everything go silent.

Drip. Drip. Drip. Dri-

"Found you!" Rhys says, his milk-white hand pulling into the walls.

You open your eyes and see a more rugged Rhys standing in front of you. His muscles are bulging through the silk white, and green royal clothing.

"Hi, my queen," Rhys says, grabbing you by the chin.

"Rhys, what are you doing? You're going to ruin our family name," You ask, looking him in the eyes.

Those silver eyes mock you.

"I came back and launched a coup with the support of the people. Don't worry, your family is safe. But this kingdom is going to be ruled by me and renamed into Faeranda. It's all your fault. You know, I heard about your engagement and came for you," Rhys monologues, pointing his sword at the crystal wild violet necklace around your neck. "You still wear this necklace? I thought your parents-no! Your father told you not to wear that. What did they say, "Don't wear anything that woman gives you." 'sounds familiar, doesn't it?"

"Don't bring grandma into this!" You yell, pushing his sword away from your neck.

"A crystal wild violet for a girl born on the first of May," You and Rhys repeat, making you shocked at what you said.

"Now I see why your little prince was so eager to marry you despite your dirty family secret. You asked your grandma for advice. And advice she gave in the form of a pink bottle. Like mother like daughter."

"That's impossible, she's dead."

"Dead? Ha, don't make me laugh! You forget your parents made your personal knight. I've read your diary. I managed to break the spell you put on it. I know that three times a week and on certain holidays, you would go to a cottage in the woods housing your grandmother. All covered for by your dear half-witch mom."

"..."

"You learned magic. You know spells, curses, and hexes passed down through generations of your maternal line. You have a grimoire, a personal and family one. You wanted me out of the way so you could get the prince you never had a chance with. But guess what? Your prince is dead, and I'm the new king. You're going to be my queen."

"Rhys, you're crazy."

"You wouldn't want to break dear grandma's heart, would you? While organizing for the coup, King Faenelis, my father, found your grandma, and she told him her deepest wish was for her granddaughter and daughter to have a safe place to live and practice magic. With me as king, I'll bring a new age of magic to this kingdom. Your grandma can live with you again. You can see the cousins and family you never saw in public. You can feel no shame when your magic slips up. You could ride your broomstick whenever you want."

Rhys made a tempting offer. Sure, he killed the prince you drugged to get, but Rhys being king had many benefits for you. You knew what he wanted in exchange, and you had to grant it.

"I, Y/N L/N, break the physical and magical chains placed upon you and your family. You are free," You say, using magic in front of Rhys.

Silver chains appear around Rhys's body and dissolve into dust. You feel the suppressed magic of Rhys and back away. He summons a ring with a bloomed rose design for the green amethyst. Rhys puts it on your finger, and the elf magic flows through your body. A chain appears around your wrist, and a handle in Rhys's palm.

"What have you done to me?" You ask, feeling weak.

"I made you my slave. You're going to have to work your way up from slave to queen. You have to earn my trust. Don't worry, it's temporary. You'll be free after your true self," Rhys replies, pulling the chain so you crash into his chest. "I love you. We're going to have a great wedding with an even bigger after-party."

You hide your face in his chiseled chest. Both of your feet slowly levitate until you're hugging him midair. Being with him always made your magic act out. Then again, it was for the best. You were so tired and wanted to let it go wild. With him, you could do that. You could always do that with Rhys. It was one of your dirty secrets.

[19burstraat]

queering futurity in crooked kingdom

if I had any real time for this (I do not) I'd be tempted to write a real essay about it, but I have a dissertation and two other real essays for my actual degree, so let's do a bad tunglr bullet point analysis. I'm... largely generalising and paraphrasing here, and I suspect this has a billion things to iron out or that I forgot about, but I hope this might be a bit interesting regardless of how much you may or may not know abt queer literary theory lmao.

in extreme short, there is a subset of queer theory around what is, in essence, queer time. there is a heteronormative future/'futurity', and it is marriage, children, a good job, a nice house, and dying at a good age after a fulfilling life. queer* and trans people both reject and often cannot access this: plenty couldn't/cannot get married or have children, or had to surpass lots of obstacles to do so, many queer and trans people were or are killed young, or died prematurely in the aids crisis. and so we get queer temporality; a resistance to the heteronormative future that is refused or inaccessible, and to reproductive futurism; the concept that people value the future over the present... and this manifests in kicking back against things like the symbolic 'child' as a representative of futurity. not real children, but empty platitudes like think of the children! think of the future for your children! there can also be a development of a death drive, which is sometimes literal and sometimes metaphorical, which is, again, basically a rejection of 'the future'.

while the grishaverse doesn't have homophobia as such, you can still do queer readings, bc it is ofc influenced by our world, by virtue of being Written By A Person From Our World. and especially in kerch, there's still stuff like patrilineal inheritance... buuuut reproductive futurity & friends are very deliberately destroyed by the end of crooked kingdom. mostly by the usual culprit (taps sign that says IT'S KAZ AGAIN LOL) but by the narrative and the other characters as well. walk w me! I don't think this is a real analysis more just a lot of Thoughts but... nvm

*used here as an umbrella term since the theory I'm pulling from is the field of queer theory

the two men (van eck and rollins) who are most concerned with reproductive futurism (having heirs and a legacy, 'building something that will outlast them'), are promptly buried under the rubble of their building efforts by our usual culprit. kaz uses the mentality of legacy and lineage against them both; he kidnaps van eck's pregnant wife to use as a bargaining chip, and he uses rollins's son and heir against him, because he knows what's most important to these men is their line, their work being handed down. he deduces that rollins has a son through rollins' vanity around building something to 'last', and his naming of the kaelish prince. rollins is literally themed around monarchy and descent; the king of the barrel, the kaelish prince, the emerald palace. kaz, for his part, is the bastard of the barrel. the illegitimate son, not produced by any conventional family structure, ketterdam his mother and profit his father... and therefore he is the perfect person to blow up this imagined monarchy

wylan is rejected by van eck for his disability, for being supposedly incapable of continuing his father's legacy; and so we gather that the actual child doesn't matter to van eck, it's what The Child represented to him, which was the future of the van eck company. the illegitimate kaz restores van eck's disowned son to the succession through sheer trickery, and jan van eck's trading empire is succeeded by his son he attempted to reject, and his farm-boy barrel-tough boyfriend. they bring home the first wife that van eck had committed, for failing to produce the 'perfect' heir. no perfect heteronormative future here!

(also by virtue of wylan and jesper being a mlm couple, there is now way less emphasis that can be put on the idea of biological children 'continuing' the line, and it somewhat stops the expectation that ruined wylan's life from being passed down)

the two m/f couples are also very distant from this idealised reproductive futurity. matthias dies, ruining any idea of a 'conventional' future he could have had with nina, and while his death is generally more about the extremist brainwashing stuff explored w the drüskelle, it does blow to shreds that futurity even more, and nina's power is also a very literal HEY GUYS. LET'S THINK ABOUT DEATH... plus she leaves ketterdam to take matthias to be buried at the end of the book.

kaz and inej both do very dangerous jobs and separate for long periods of time. they may marry or they may not, they may have children or they may not, they may be physical with one another or they may not. it doesn't really matter; they'll try, but we don't get to find out how far they may or may not get, which honestly I kinda like. their future is open, the river running carrying inej to the sea. also, inej makes an explicit rejection of this kind of 'normal' future:

So he wasn’t fit for a normal life. Was she meant to find a kindhearted husband, have his children, then sharpen her knives after they’d gone to sleep? How would she explain the nightmares she still had from the Menagerie? Or the blood on her hands?

we don't really know whether or not kaz as a character is queer (I do not think kaz knows either lol) but it doesn't really matter, you can still read him as a queer figure both a) just if you want to! and b) in this sense of queer temporality, bc he's the crux of a lot of it. we already covered the bastard thing and his happy habit of kicking reproductive futurism when it's down, and as Edelman says: 'If the fate of the queer is to figure the fate that cuts the thread of futurity...' well, kaz 'build something new. watch it burn' 'he knew exactly what he was going to leave behind: damage' brekker is our man!

he does not give a single flying fuck about the future. he destroyed van eck and rollins' legacies, and he'll do that shit again. he doesn't have enough of an ego to consider a 'legacy' for himself besides destruction, which is a rejection of a legacy in itself. his plans for the future amount to fucking shit up and making a bunch of money to use to do more damage, until he gets shot/stabbed/hanged/drowned/whatever, which he constantly anticipates.

kaz also has a massive distrust and disdain for traditional family structures, because he's seen them crumble twice; his actual family are all dead, and the hertzoon con was built on creating a convincing family mode to lure them in. "my mother is ketterdam, she birthed me in the harbour; my father is profit, I honour him daily" is a sneer at paterfamilias type families where the mother is there to just give birth and the father is the head of the family, to be honoured and served, rather than loved. he also has zero sympathy for the 'think of the children!' thing, bc he knows it's disingenuous; who thought of him? no one. rollins was happy to con kids with the false promise of family and safety, and all the people he paid off were happy to turn the other way. was there no one to look after you? no, there wasn't. his mother is ketterdam: filthy, feral ketterdam. no nurturing mother has he!

So he threatens Alby and Hanna with no qualms, because while he doesn't actually ever intend to hurt children (...not physically anyway, apparently upsetting them is fair game FJJFJD), he knows the power of the threat— the idea of the child— is often more impactful than the actual act itself. ("Inej, I could only kill Pekka’s son once. He can imagine his death a thousand times.") it certainly works on rollins and van eck! he'll make you think of the damn children alright!

inej takes direct action to defend actual children, not just the idea of them, and then we hear in rule of wolves she's hated by the kerch government for it because she's fucking with their profits. (look also to how they flapped about searching for wylan, one rich man's kid, and are completely useless about hundreds of forced indentures. what a surprise...)

she reunites with her parents, but she worries persistently about whether or not they will accept her for who she has become, and we are never quite told whether or not they do. we like to think so, but we don't actually know. and although she gets to see her parents again, her future is on the wraith, not with them.

most people have dead or splintered families, actually. only inej has both parents, and for three - four years, they didn't have a daughter.

The general proximity to death in general is very potent; nina's power, kaz's whole backstory, the camping out in a graveyard. jesper's recklessness and love for fights, inej being ready to die rather than be a captiver again and kaz's response to that being 'not just yet', rather than not at all...

all following into the whole no mourners, no funerals thing!!! the fact that they know they won't be remembered or cared about if they die!!!

Edelman: 'Choosing to stand, as many of us do, outside the cycles of reproduction, choosing to stand, as we also do, by the side of those living and dying each day with the complications of AIDS, we know the deception of the societal lie that endlessly looks toward a future whose promise is always a day away.'

SOC:

Inej's mother and father might still shed tears for the daughter they'd lost, but if Inej died tonight, there would be no one to grieve for the girl she was now. 

“No mourners, no funerals. Another way of saying good luck. But it was something more. A dark wink to the fact that there would be no expensive burials for people like them, no marble markers to remember their names, no wreaths of myrtle and rose.”

pick up what I'm putting down guys please please I don't have time to tease this out properly but like. I think kaz and wylan are the linchpins here. (again)

[cucumberteapot]

Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse - Afterthoughts

On Friday evening, I bought a ticket for ATSV and it wasn't until the remaining five minutes of the film did I hear gasps and squeals among the audience. Generally, theaters in my country are quiet during screening. It's only on rare occasions did I bare witness to my theater reacting in real-time to something that encapsulates the film and what it could mean for the characters in the future.

Warning!! Please watch the film before reading. This post will go into some heavy spoilers about the finale and some predictions for BTSV!!

It's truly astonishing how talented the crew for ATSV was to convey so much subtle information about Earth-42 Aaron Davis and Prowler!Miles with only five minutes left of runtime. However this analysis is around 1000 words long and I'd like to keep it as readable as possible. From the view of Earth-42's skyscrapers, it's clear this different New York has been overrun by the Sinister Six and we can theorise they'll be the primary antagonists of the next installment. However, until we get more information on them in the lead up to March 2024, I'd like to focus on our two new antagonists and not only their dynamic with Spider!Miles but with also each other.

If Spider!Miles takes after Aaron as Jefferson implies in this film and (honestly) the entirety of ITSV reinforces, then Miles G takes after his father. Or did. Which if we take the brief two minutes we meet him, this kind of tracks. Miles seems to have ITSV's Jefferson's no-nonsense attitude that's been informed by the death of his dad and Aaron's career. It would make sense if Prowler!Miles was more similar to Miles prior to his dad dying before being corrupted by Aaron's influence and the absence of a Spider-Man, where in Aaron's case he was enabled by Jefferson's death to go full villain-mode. When watching ITSV again and comparing to ATSV, it's so wild to see how different Earth 42-Aaron is not only with Spider!Miles but with Prowler!Miles.

In Earth-1610, he wanted to separate Miles from his life as the Prowler to protect him all the while serving as his laid-back, artistic uncle, but here the front is entirely for Rio. It's why when Spider!Miles hugs him, he's not caught off-guard because it's such an intense reaction from what should just be another day coming home from "work". It's because he's not his Miles. Spider!Miles has a lot of love for the people in his life and what he enjoys, whether it's his art, music and surrounding himself with friends and family although its hard. We see Prowler!Miles' room in Spider!Miles' conversation with 42-Rio and all the posters, action figures and journals are replaced with milk crates, a few books and a speed bag. Whoever this other Miles is has fully adopted the identity of the Prowler to the point where "Miles Morales" is the alter-ego - "I'm Miles Morales. But you... You can call me The Prowler."

But now we know who this Prowler!Miles is - What does he want?

Pull a Kingpin and find another dimension to bring back his dad.

Intercept Spider!Miles' dimension and take his place there.

Use Spider!Miles as a bargaining chip for the Sinister Six.

Or just straight up kill Miles Morales. Because why not?

Spider!Miles doesn't tell Aaron his uncle died in his dimension. He says, "I have an Uncle Aaron, too. I had one." The use of "had" is purposeful here because the writers are making a point of not revealing to Aaron (or Prowler!Miles who is listening in all this time) that his counterpart is dead because working as a villain got him killed. If Prowler!Miles doesn't respond to the knowledge of his father existing still alive and well in another dimension, then how would he reaction to knowing his mentor and uncle is dead there, too?

When Spider!Miles reveals his Aaron was the Prowler, we see 42-Aaron's eyes sink in the reflection. It's minor but it delivers so much characterisation as to what kind of person this Aaron is and his relationship to Prowler!Miles. For all of Aaron's faults in ITSV, he always assumed responsibility by concealing the truth from Miles and in his final moments, pulls Miles mask back over to conceal his truth from Kingpin. While this Aaron is far more terrifying, he's trying so hard to hide his own cowardice by letting his nephew take on the mantle of Prowler instead. It's why he smashes the punching bag near Miles' head when he says, "I know you don't want to be the Prowler."

Because, yeah. He doesn't.

And it's why he chuckles sardonically when Miles tells him he could be a "good guy"... because it's not about that.

This entire movie has never been about being a "good guy".

Miles hides the truth about being Spiderman from his parents when it's clearly harming his relationship with them. Gwen and Peter hide the truth from Miles about being an anomaly. Miguel is a hypocrite and attacks Miles out of self-projection and Jess just goes along with it. As for the other Spider-people, they also just follow Miguel's orders except for Hobie and Margo who are the only ones to help Miles escape Nueva York. Both characters take responsibility not by allowing Miles as an anomaly to cause havoc and destroy dimensions, but by identifying that Miguel has neglected his own responsibilities by acting as the aggressor in this situation and trying to control and exclude Miles' identity as a Spider-Man.

Before Gwen is forcefully returned to her own dimension, she shoots back at Miguel's principles, "We are supposed to be the good guys." and it makes him pause for a moment before repeating he and the Spider-people are just to convince himself they are doing the right thing.

By the end of ATSV, Gwen reconciles with her father about being Spider-Woman and collects allies in their search for Miles. While Miles, who has reclaimed his sense of identity and accepts both halves of who he is, unflinchingly stares down this shadow of himself that is equally self-assured in his own responsibility as Prowler but far more dangerous than any antagonist he's encountered.

It should be obvious by this point but this is why the phrase, "With great power comes great responsibility", is the thematic core of every Spider-Man film. It was throughout ITSV and ATSV and now waiting less than a year for BTSV in 2024, this theme of responsibility will resonate with every single character as they enter the third act of this trilogy. And whether it's living their authentic truth with the people they love and love them, or about owning up to their mistakes and choosing to do better...

I, for one, can't wait to watch.

[corviids]

Hi! I was hoping you could answer a few questions because I’m a bit confused on Otto using Aemond and Luke’s children to threaten them. Does Otto actually see Aenys as a valid potential future king or is his goal is still Aegon? Rhaenyra, Jace, Laena would all have to die in order for Aenys just to become heir, so then would Otto dispose of Luke as well? I guess I’m just not really make the connection between “Otto reminding Aemond how close Aenys is to the throne” and “Aemond falling back into line.” Could you clarify? Is it that Otto would murder Rhaenyra, Jace, Laena, and Luke if it meant seeing Hightower blood on the throne so “stay loyal to Aegon because that is what I would do”? Could you also clarify what is more important in Otto’s mind at this point: Seeing a male heir or seeing Hightower blood on the throne? Because he could make it so that any of Aemond’s children marries Laena or if Jace does have a male heir see that a daughter marries him.

Otto is an old man at this point and I feel like he’s getting closer to the point where he won’t be able to puppet whatever heir makes itself known to the route he will take. Using Aenys implies that he would go through Rhaenyra’s line which would legitimize her rule, but if he’s only using the idea of the Summerhall children then doesn’t that still imply they are just tools and he still wants Aegon? Because I doubt he will live long enough to control either. Sorry if this is rambling. I’m trying to phrase my questions in ways that you could answer them without giving away spoilers to Otto’s endgame.

okay i’ll try to answer this in the least spoilery way possible cuz tbh i’m happy it’s caused confusion cuz it’s kinda the point that otto is playing a mind game lol

basically, otto’s threat to aemond is a reminder that otto has been playing this game since before aemond was even born and he has the full capability to do whatever he wants with aemond and his family without them even realizing. otto realizes that aemond’s loyalty is to luke + their kids and he’s like “i can use that, aemond, but how is up to you.”

you aren’t wrong: otto is old but getting his blood on the throne is his life’s work and he now has two avenues of doing so: aegon’s line or aemond’s. his “fall in line” comment is him telling aemond that if aemond doesnt do what he wants when the time comes, he can always use his [aemond’s] kids. otto is still a very powerful man and there’s always the chance that he, as hand and aemond’s grandfather, is conspiring while using his great-grand kids as bargaining chips (also consider that most of lucemond’s kids are dragonriders/dragon blood is very valuable to houses)

otto’s end goal isn’t aenys on the throne specifically. he wants his blood on it. not as a consort but as king. his warning is more of a how will he do it.

[iolypse]

yeah, no. knowing qcellbit, this is 100% without a doubt a desperate ploy to get insider information about the federation, and he's willing throw away his entire life to do it.

Ive seen a number of people particularly confused about why he might be trying to get full custody over richarlyson, and I thought I'd toss my hat into the ring here.

he's creating conflict. the worse it is, the more believable it is.

he needs everyone to hate him as time goes on. he needs to make himself entirely vulnerable and fully willing— he needs to strip himself of any and all potential attachment so that all he has is the federation to make this act as authentic as possible. I don't think he expects to win this trial. he's doing this to make the rest of the brazilians despise him down to his very core.

at the same time, he can't just fucking throw the trial, either, hence why he tells qroier he's doing this to try and get bobby back despite cucurucho telling him it's impossible. already, qroier is the person most likely to support him. he has to sweeten the deal in any way he possibly can.

he fucks with SOFIA and changes her password because she is a hazard and a risk. the federation does not tolerate any attempted escapes or rule breaking— he knows this, he's experienced it himself. with all the progress SOFIA has been making, her existence has grown increasingly dangerous, but she's still useful for future plans. he can't just shut her down. so he makes her useless to anyone but himself, and he makes sure he has a bargaining chip when it comes to qmax. he's another person to get on his side to make sure the trial is as believable as it can be.

qcellbit is one analytical son of a bitch. he's a resilient motherfucker, and he does not stray from trial and error. error after error, knowing the federation is always listening, this time he cannot tell a soul. he can only pray his friends know him well enough to understand the plan and let him get away with it. everything else, he must do alone.

the commercial was his tipping point. my assumption is that he's been waiting for an opportunity like this for a while— an excuse to start the operation, to finally make it seem like he's lost his mind enough to be a desirable asset for the federation— and this is it. this is his opening. he'll do everything the federation says and more, just to make them give him a single chance at making this shit work.

it is sickening, and there is no guarantee that this plan will succeed, but he's exhausted so many options already. hearing qquackity's idea— order against order, not chaos against order, since they already expect that— must've given him a few of his own. he needs information. this has to be the way.

[starryknight-dragonarts]

Morgan le Fey the Magician Sin of Lust

Morgan was born to a wealthy merchant family in Treasure Town. Her father was obsessive and overly controlling on every aspect of her life so he could control her and use her in the future as a bargaining chip. Her mother on the other hand was vain and hardly cared about Morgan unless she could help her look good, until eventually moved on to another pokemon. If he had it his way she would've never had a life of her own being used to serve his life and then some stranger's she was traded to in order to help make her father more powerful. One of the things she had a little control over and offered her moments of escapism from her regimented life was reading fiction; her father wanted her to be able to make conversation (of course...only if she was addressed first) and despite his need to control his daughter he underestimated the power and effect stories could have.

Morgan started identifying with the Sorceress character of Arthurian Legend "Morgan le Fey" a sort of trickster antihero who would mess with her brother King Arthur and his knights from time to time but also helped him when he was truly down. Like the young Morgan, Morgan le Fey originally had little control over her life and was arranged to marry a man she didn't like. Instead she spent her time with Merlin learning Magic and then running off to become a Queen among the Fey Folk. Morgan loved Magic because it made anything seem possible, absolute freedom to do anything she put her mind too. She expressed interest in being a magician but her father snapped at her for wanting to perform for a others and might have succeeded in snuffing out her dreams if she didn't have support from a friend.

Up until this point the only "Friends" that Morgan had were other aristocrat's daughter who's fathers arranged them to hang out. Morgan had little to no similar interests with these girls but was expected to be cordial. Then in the middle of a party somebody new showed up who she had heard about but never met before now, a scrappy Salandit named Kaida LaCroix. Her adopted mother Marie LaCroix had also been an Aristocrat but not one who her father often interacted with closely and passed away recently. Kaida was left hanging on to fragments of her mother's wealth but she was hardly the aristocratic type, more like a plucky rogue. Intrigued by this party crasher, the two of them spent hours together just talking, it was the first most genuine conversation Morgan had ever had. Kaida made her laugh and smile telling her tall tales of the many misadventures she had gotten herself into, it sounded like something out of one of her stories and that was another thing she and Kaida bonded over; Kaida loved Adventure novels about swashbucklers and pirates going on grand adventures across the world looking for treasure and living as free as they desired.

It wasn't long before her Father chased Kaida off his property, but even then Kaida had a confident smile on her face as she promised to come see Morgan again, and so she did. She came back the next day and so on becoming the highlight of Morgan's life. She would sneak into the garden in the middle of the night, they would meet up and then run off to go have fun in town as Kaida the Pirate and Morgan the Magician. Kaida completley and unconditionally supported Morgan's dreams of being a Magician and told her once she had her own boat they would go around the world together performing in every city and every region. The two girls loved each other and no matter who stood against them they would stand together.

In time they would become known together as the Deadly Sins of Greed and Lust, the Salandit who does the impossible to take what she desires and the Eevee who let her heart guide her way in defiance of her controlling father. During a difficult time in his business endeavors, her Father decided to invoke the power of the literal Demon of Greed to help him, and then refused to pay up his end of the bargain. In retaliation the Demon kidnapped Morgan! Her Father still refused to pay what he owed, so Kaida had to step in and pull a heist for on behalf of the Demon. While being Damseled Morgan was not the "Damsel of the Distressed " variety despite being in some type of scary Hellish dimension, she's gotten good at concealing her emotions having lived with her father and did not make things easy on her captor managing to pull several tricks on him and making herself a pain to deal with. Once she got back to the material realm she finally told her Father off for being a terrible excuse of a parent and left him screaming while she went to live with Kaida, and the two of them are very happy together.

With a new confidence that she had the capability to trick a literal demon, Morgan took to starting her stage career as a performing magician and studying true arcane magic wanting become the greatest magician of all time. She specializes primarily in Illusions, Enchantments, and Animating inanimate objects but she wants to round her skills across the board and dabble in most magical styles...except maybe Necromancy, she's not about that stuff. Her main weapon is a comically large magical mallet with versatile uses outside of simply being a comically large mallet to bonk pokemon with. It's able to stretch it's length and bend like it has rubber hose physics and she can cast wide area of effect spells through it.

[ae-neon]

Acotar Crackpot Theory I'm Proposing as New Anti Fanon!!

I have made fun of Rhysand's death bargain with Feyre as his insurance to his court that an illegitimate foreign child bride wouldn't actually become their monarch in the event of his passing

BUT what if it was even more complex than that? Personally I would prefer the Machiavellian version of Rhysand so....What if it was his life insurance too?

Blur canon and picture this:

Rhys does what he does to Feyre UtM for the reasons he said; to get to Tamlin.

In part because of Amarantha and in part as revenge for what happened between their families. He also makes the bargain so, if Feyre survives, he has a future chip to dangle over Tamlin's head in case he doesn't wanna ally with Rhys.

But then she doesn't just survive she's reborn a demi-god and suddenly the game has changed. The pawn makes it to the other side and becomes a Queen. One he needs to possess.

So he goes home for a few months and sets the stage for the biggest con ever pulled.

And when he's ready he reaches out and pokes and prods at Tamlin, Lucien and Feyre's wounded minds to make them fester. Sending them nightmares etc.

Then he rescues her, frees her, puts on his play. Tells the citizens of the Hewn City to put on their masks while she's there. Degrades her then uplifts her, uses her then confines in her.

All the while the other players say their lines and play their parts. Suddenly the Lord of Bloodshed is her goofy best friend, the Morrigan becomes her fragile friend etc

Then he gives Feyre her role: High Lady.

And she binds her life to his.

It's not just a death pact, but a life pact too. Immortality in the truest sense. He cannot die so long as his demi-god wife is alive.

And that's why it starts to go sideways in silver fire, he no longer needs to live forever - he has his heir.

ignoring everything that doesn't support this

SJM is the magician and I'm the assistant revealing the box. Ta-da!! It was good writing all along

[captainsparklefingers]

I already made this comment in the notes of my last post but I feel like it bears repeating on its own:

If I had a nickel for every time a Liam O'Brian character made a deal with a powerful entity who holds domain over fate, using his life and or future as the bargaining chip, with the true crux of the deal being to help protect people he cares about...well. I'd have two nickels.

Which isn't a lot, but knowing Liam and the sort of characters he's played, I'm actually more weirded out that it's only happened twice.

[llostwriter]

The Husky And White Cat Shizun With Their Baobei

Chapter 7

As a Shizun, it was his duty to do the best for his disciples. He watched as four of his disciples grew up. He taught them all the skills needed in life, starting from common knowledge to simple writings to reading literature to poetry. He was simply trying to do his best, but he failed. Not only did he fail, he failed miserably. It was like rubbing salt on the wound as he tried to fix it. He wasn’t sure how to fix it. 

 

It was his fault that Shi Mei died. As a Shizun, it was his responsibility to protect his disciples. It was just as simple as that, yet he failed to do something so simple. It was almost humiliating to even think about it. He watched as Mo Ran held onto the cold body of Shi Mei. He should have expected this. For Mo Ran to become Taxian-Jun. He later has to use his own life as a bargaining chip to keep both you and Xue Meng from the grasp of Taxian-Jun.

 

He was grateful to Kunlun Taxue Palace for accepting Xue Meng and you in when none of the sects were willing to take the two in. In the end, he watched you die in his own arms. He attempted to save you, but everything was going too fast; there wasn’t enough time.

 

He has failed as a Shizun.

 

 

——

 

Ever since that Chu Wanning incident with Huaizui, Chu Wanning’s spirit core has weakened, resulting in a cycle of every ten years. Chu Wanning will have to go into seclusion to repair it. You, as the reader, still remember some parts of it; after all, it was quite a major detail. It was pouring rain, with the sounds of thunder and lightning approaching at every corner. 

Your past self stood inside the Red Lotus Pavilion. Close, yet you still kept some distance away from Shizun. 

 

You know that he has already cast the Sound Concealing Spell; however, you still have to keep your dignity and respect as his disciple. It all went well until your past self found yourself awakened in the bed of your dormitory. Shi Mei was greeting you as he carried a bowl of soup toward you, keeping his usual gentle and warm demeanor. Shi Mei told you that he found you asleep on the ground and decided to carry you back to your dormitory; you knew that it was all too coincidental. 

 

After Shi Mei left, you secretly dumped out the soup for safety precautions. 

 

You were worried since it appears that you failed to prevent the flower of everlasting hatred from entering Mo Ran’s body. But it should be fine since it was the second lifetime, right? 

 

__

 

"Youngsters like you shouldn’t be worried so much. It’s just seclusion, not a big deal. Put some faith in your Shizun," Xian'ye (the holy fan) stated in annoyance. Xian'ye appears to be already tired from you continuously standing on guards; almost as if you were to even leave for one second, your Shizun would be swallowed whole by a wolf. Out of all the disciples, you were the only insane one who went so far as to bring your blankets and pillow, casually sleeping on the grounds within the barriers of the Red Lotus Pavilion. 

 

Even though you brought your blankets and pillows, these couple of days you have hardly gotten any sleep. You were worried that if you even were to close your eyes for a few minutes, everything would go wrong. Cultivators don’t even need sleep; therefore, you also don’t. You must keep on guard. You kept reminding yourself. 

 

You ended up putting a spell on yourself to prevent yourself from falling asleep. You kept that a secret from everyone; however, your tired tone and dark circles were proof of it. Xue Meng was the only one to take notice of his visits. Xue Meng was determined to'suffer' together with you, considering how persistent you are; however, you were able to convince him to not do it after all; he still needs to focus on his cultivation with the excuse that he’s going to succeed Sisheng Peak in the future. 

 

Shi Mei still didn’t appear, and you began to think that you should guard outside; after all, even if something did go wrong, your Shizun wouldn’t be interrupted in the middle of it. 

 

Since you know that any interruptions in the middle of the healing process of cultivation could cause severe damage to the body. Only you can hear the sounds of Xian'ye. Unfortunately for you, interruptions by a certain holy weapon don’t count during your moments because you already own the main spirit of the holy weapon.

 

You were approaching the exit of the Red Lotus Pavilions when the ground began to violently shake. Your immediate instinct was to summon back your holy fan and head over to Chu Wanning, with the instinct of protecting him. But the Red Lotus Pavilion came crushing down on the both of you. 

 

Your view blacks out again. 

[spongebobafettywap]

The best way marvel found to make mystique and destiny the "best, good and true parents" for nightcrawler which is why "he doesn't need any of the other weirdos" was by taking the only woman he ever viewed as his mother and basically twisting and bending her in all directions before killing her in the most insulting of ways so she could never defend herself or oppose the baseless retcon that was just done

Margali taught nightcrawler to value hope and be kind like all of her other children ? just a way for her to get a bootleg soulsword that she ended up barely if never using

Margali taught nightcrawler to love himself and gave him a good childhood ? nightcrawler never had a good childhood while he was under the care of his alcoholic foster mother, only the circus folk were nice to him, nightcrawler doesn't love himself which is why he spent most of his time on mutant island getting an identity crisis

Azazel placed nightcrawler in the care of a woman who was good with children and trustworthy after mystique got rid of him ? wtf you talking about, mystique never wanted to abandon nightcrawler and it was destiny who made a deal with an old woman she doesn't even trust using her future child as bargaining chip (what does margali gain out of it ? idk the sword she ended up never using and was created through plotholes and coincidences?) and knew was evil (so nightcrawler's life was shitty enough that he'd end up good and want to save the world✨) and that deal happened in like... a parking lot i guess (the retcon doesn't bother developing its new stupid takes so why should I)

Margali, a romani woman, was never anti mutant, has dated a mutant previously and raised a mutant child as her own ? margali comes back into the plot without any setup as part of the main anti mutant group (which is reskinned hydra), uses her powers to infect mutants with a magic illness that drives them crazy, abandons the mutant child she raised and genuinely loved with the illness she created after stripping him from all of his hope to make a bootleg sword and basically couldn't care less about what she did to innocent mutants

Margali Szardos was created by Claremont, was Nightcrawler's mother figure and really mother before either of Mystique and Destiny joined the plot and this is the treatment she gets ? Unbelievable.

Are you fucking kidding me? They made Margali a part of an anti Mutant group???? What the fuck is with Marvel and depicting Romani characters as fascists. Nah fuck that shitty ass character Destiny forever. My main rule of thumb is if a character has to have other characters altered to act out of character to shine then they're a piss poor character and they deserve to become a dormant unused character for decades.

[animehouse-moe]

Mobile Suit Gundam - The Witch From Mercury Season 2 Episode 2: Father and Child

It seems that this is the episode where the real Gundam begins. Death and destruction, senseless violence that consumes everything under the guise of politics. There's certainly quite a lot to go through.

Out of the 3 episodes we've gotten in this new season, this one has been the best. I'd still say there's heavy handed pieces that mostly reside with Norea Du Noc and the rest of the characters aboard Astsacassia, but outside of that we're treated to some really great content.

And unironically? In the short amount of time that Guel's been given on screen, he's done more than his share to prove that he's an incredibly well written character. His desire to please his father, the breakdown of his character and ego, and a reset that gives him his direction. He gets very little time, but makes the absolute most use of it possible, and it's on display with this episode

He's a shell of a person, haunted by patricide, unable to even eat when faced with his reality. It doesn't matter that he's a prisoner, nor that he's only worth as much as the Benerit Group makes him out to be. He's consume in sorrow by his actions, which is placed eloquently against a young girl in the compound whose father also died at Plant Quetta.

It strikes a very strong chord in grounding Guel as still a child, and uses this little girl to express the emotions that he's unable to. Alongside that, it's an incredibly important piece about discussing the losers in violence. GWitch has very strongly spoken about that, to where both sides suffer loss that perpetuate the hatred and sorrow that deepens conflict. Here, we get shown it on the individual scale with a twist, which is what allows Guel to relate to the girl. Her father was stolen from her, but Guel took his himself, so he doesn't have hatred for Earthians in the way the girl does Spacians. Rather, Guel finds common ground in the girl's hatred and sorrow.

And that's what spurs him on, that relation to the young girl who lost her father and has nowhere else to reach out to. Through that, Guel's able to rebuild himself. Through guilt, he's able to stand tall. Through love, he's able to find a way to take that step forward. And even through uncertainty and sorrow and depression, he finds a reason to search for that light. This young girl had no one else, she had nowhere to turn to and was left to die. And in that, Guel saw himself. It wasn't pity, and it probably wasn't even a deeper connection. It was fear, desperation that rang out from his soul to try and save the girl that suffered a similar fate to him.

And what does he get for his deeds, his attempt to save someone in this world? More suffering.

It's incredibly powerful and emotional, and rages in the face of war. Olcott has a mobile suit, he had a chance to get her the attention she needed to have a chance to survive. She was still alive. But he chose violence, he chose to sacrifice the girl's chance at life for his own opportunity of killing another. He couldn't live with the choices of his past so he cast away not only his own future, but that of those around him. He perpetuates his existence as a dog of war and violence and furthers the suffering of everyone.

But at the end, he's forced to realize his actions. A Spacian, a prisoner that was to be used as a bargaining chip, is the one that does all he can to save the young girl. He has no obligation, no real reason to do it, but he does so over the man that could have. And even at the end of it all, that prisoner refuses to let go of his past. He holds grief and love within the same hand, forcing himself to feel that pain so that he can still remember.

And that's about it from a story perspective. I think Norea is still too heavy-handed for my liking, but I can admit she at the very least gets the point across. Nika is great by comparison though, she just feels a little awkward aside Norea's performance. In the same breath, the few cuts we get of Shaddiq conversing with his father are pretty solid, but neglect the sort of childlike naivety that I think is important in pieces like that. In opposition to his father you get that he doesn't have the full or perfect picture, but Shaddiq himself is void of any arrogance or certainty that could drive such confidence and certainty in actions that serve to only tear things further apart. Maybe it's his aloof personality that doesn't allow those pieces through, but I feel like more could be done to shake his foundations a bit more than what they're at currently.

Now, world stuff? I appreciate the details that went in to the combat and work. The Benerit Groups security forces are well formed and thought out. There's several different types of mobile suits, and their space to ground descent concept is solid as well. Using a high powered glider to conserve energy and hasten transit is a solid idea in Earth gravity. In opposition though is the Earthians mobile suits. All the same design and with standard hardware, they're not kitted out for this specific type of conflict or anything like that, nor do they have a very strong commander or experience as a unit.

What I really love though is the differences we're given. The Earthians exclusively use bullet based weapons while the Spacians are able to use a bevvy of weapon types to overpower their enemies. It showcases the power structure between the two groups very well, forcing the Earthians into inferior and outdated mobile suits when up against the expensive and cutting edge ones of the Spacians.

So following that, the combat? Yeah, it's got its "hype" moments and pieces that stretch the truth, but overall it's incredibly well laid out. The Earthians focus on Guerilla tactics while the Spacians operate in a tight formation on a battle plan. Decapitate the HQ and take up high ground positions to target the Earthians. Knowing they have inferior equipment, the Earthians are forced into a maneuver battle centered around their preparation at the factory. It's a rather textbook approach, if not for the excessiveness of the Earthians.

Do I discount the combat because of them? No, but I will say it's silly. Why would someone ever sacrifice a mobile suit for a Himars? It's the dumbest trade possible in the situation, and I really don't believe that "camaraderie" is what allowed it to take place, especially when the man that jumped in front of it had a family. To me, 100% an intentional writing decision to elicit an emotional response from viewers.

At the end of it all, we're "in the Endgame now". The school setting has been shattered, influence reaches out to the ends of space and time as the threat of a Permet God looms and warfare breaks out between Earthians and Spacians. Everybody's a target, nobody's safe, and we still haven't seen Miorine and Suletta together in this second season. I still believe that the first two episodes rushed, but they rushed to get to a good spot so I'm not terribly concerned about it. Now that we're here though, I hope we get to spend a lot of time with it, there's a world of things to explore given what the first season teed up, and I want to hope that all of it gets executed upon. So yeah, now this is really a Gundam show.