#anyway *I* will pat her head even if they wont

[callmehere-iwillappear]

"Ahoy there fellas! Here's a little stress relief, also good luck! Don't worry she doesn't bite."

thank you! unfortunately they have trauma but it's the thought that counts

@tmntaucompetition

[i-cant-sing]

Time Traveller AU pt 6

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

PART 7 is here!

Its been a week since Baldwin finally came clean about the kiss with Charlotte, a week since you cleared of him "cheating on you", not that you cared if he did, and a week since you realised Guy tried and failed miserably to sabotage Baldwin through Charlotte.

Its also been a week over the due date you were supposed to return to Egypt to get your tools from Abbas, but its been hard to leave when Baldwin insists on spending time with you 24/7 because wants to make up to you for "suspecting his devotion to you".

He draped himself over your shoulders, caging you in his arms as he pecks your temple. "I'm sorry for making you doubt my love for you, princess. No, no- clearly, I'm the one at fault! Let me make it upto you~" Ugh, sometimes him being such a green flag is making it seem like a red flag. But you cant argue because... well, if you dont let Baldwin shower you in affection, then he might stop chanting "its my fault, princess" and change the narrative into "its your fault, princess and you need to be punished for doubting me- the KING, for slapping me- the KING, for thinking yourself so highly that you think i cant have all the women i want, me- the KING! To the dungeons you go, darling!"

Anyways, you both were now sitting down in the royal gardens, Baldwin's head laid in your lap as you worked your fingers through his luscious locks, absentmindedly braiding his hair while he made you tell some stories.

"And so, she found out her husband was cheating on her because she found out a jar of strawb- a jar of lard in her house." You looked down at his face, finding him already staring up at you, eyes full of awe. "And she doesnt eat lard. She hates it, so she never allowed it in the house."

Baldwin let out a small gasp. "And then what did this- Sharkerilla lady do?"

"Shakarina left Pickle. Divorced him." You told him, adding in small daisies in his hair. His face displayed pity. "Wow. And how do you know these people?"

You paused for a second. You cant explain to him how Shakira and Pique were celebrities and the concept of drama channels on youtube.

"We were neighbours." You hummed, patting his head. "There, I did your hair. Now I'm going-"

"No. Come on, we havent spent enough time." He whined, blue eyes looking at you pleadingly.

You scoff. "Baldwin, we've spent the entire day together. We ate breakfast and lunch together, we read books in the library, we looked at tiaras and crowns for the wedding, we even played chess." He lifted his head up from your lap and rested it on his palm as he leaned on his shoulder.

"And you lost all 5 games." Baldwin grinned, making you smack his forehead gently.

"I need to go-"

"Why?"

"Because I need to make arrangements for my trip to Egypt." You explained as Baldwin groaned, plopping his head face-first into your lap. "No." He mumbled against your dress.

"No?"

"No." He raised his head, pouting at you. "You're not going to Egypt. I miss you too much."

You gave him a lazy smile. "I'll be back soon."

"Not soon enough." He argued. "I have to go find my family, Baldwin." You continued on with your lie, raising a hand to caress his cheek. He sighed and leaned into your touch. "I can send the knights to find them." "They wont be able to. Only I will. Besides, I need to know what theyre like, if its even best to let them back into my life again, hm?"

He pondered over for a moment. "Then I will come along?" "What? Why?" He gave you a charming smile. "Because I dont want to part from you. Not for weeks, not for days, not even for-" He leaned up close to your face, eyes darting from your eyes to your lips back to your eyes. "-a minute."

Your face flushed and you looked to your side, using your hand to push his face away, making him chuckle as he grabbed the same hand and pressed a kiss to it. "You're so adorable, my little prude."

You shot him a glare. "I- I'm not a prude. But at least one of us should have a little shame."

He gave a chuckle, poking your still flushed cheek. "Shame? Whatever for? I love you." His eyes lit up in amusement as your head whipped towards him. Baldwin raised a brow at you. Its not the first time he's confessed, but... it still catches you offguard everytime.

"Did you hear me? I love you." He repeated, eyes still twinkling at how you continued to become flustered.

You opened your mouth and then closed it like an idiot, not knowing how to reply.

"Thank you." You finally said, looking anywhere but at him. He burst into a fit of laughter. "Oh god- I tell you- I love you and you say "thank you"? You really are something out of this world!" Baldwin teased you, making you huff.

"Lets not get off topic, Baldwin. You cant come with me to Egypt because you cant abandon Jerusalem. If your throne is empty, Guy- though he doesnt have the brain for it, or Salauddin or someone else will attempt to take your throne from you! You have a responsibility to your people! Keep them safe." You reminded him.

Baldwin stared at you before sighing, leaning back and resting his head on his arms. "You're always so smart, aren't you?" He smiled with his eyes closed. "I suppose it is a good thing that you care so much for your future subjects."

-

Next day, you were all set to leave for Egypt again. Baldwin and you stood at the gates of the castle as the kingdom all gathered around to bid you safe travels. You were ignoring Baldwin's stupid lovey dovey eyes boring holes into you, because there are people here and you dont want this blue orbed man to embarrass you.

But alas, he took your hand in his, making you look at him. He flashed you his dimples, bringing up your hand to press a kiss to it, the crowd cooing while you blushed (though it could be mistaken for anger with how hard you were frowning).

Tearing his eyes away from you, he addressed his people. "O people of Jerusalem! Your princess is going on an important journey. I ask you all to pray for her safety and well being!" The crowd looked on you two with awe, or more at Baldwin for being such a doting husband-to-be.

"While I know that your hearts must ache to see your princess depart from us for some time, I bring you good news to keep your hearts at peace as well." You looked at Baldwin in confusion. Good news? What is he talking about?

Baldwin smiled at you, the sunlight hitting his face at angle that made him look majestic.

"In 3 weeks time, the princess and I will marry!" Your eyes widened as the crowd erupted in cheer.

Baldwin hugged you close, and you whispered. "Three weeks? But I'll be gone for at least two! I wont have enough time to make-"

"Dont worry about a thing, princess. Sibylla and I will make all the arrangements necessary and trust me, it'll be a wedding for generations to remember." He pulled back, grinning at you as he pecked your forehead. "You just focus on returning safely, okay?"

Sibylla, Guy and their son were also there to bid you farewell. Sibylla pulled you in for a tight hug, promising to give you a grand wedding and that she'll keep your prefrences in mind. Their son ran off and Sibylla went to chase after him, leaving you alone with Guy.

"Bye." Guy gruffly said while you smiled tightly at him. "I know what you did, you buffoon." He looked at you slighted. "What the hell are you-"

"Charlotte? The letters? Yeah, we'll talk when I return. And you better not cause anymore trouble for me or else-" You turned to look at Baldwin, waving sweetly at him. Guy gulped, taking in your threat.

-

As usual, your first stop was at Salauddin's camp. You would go without stopping here, the knights Baldwin sent with you claimed to know the way but... you dont trust them to know how to survive the desert. And you knew you were right when some people from your caravan started feeling faint.

"Return to Jerusalem and take care of yourself." "But we cant just leave you, princess-" "You are not going to be able to serve me if you dont survive the desert. Salauddin's camp is near and with his guards combined with mine, I'll be more than safe. Go now. And tell the king that I insisted you returned." You assured them, commanding a few knights to guard them on their way back.

Looking ahead, you saw the sand hill beyond which Salauddin's camp was. Isabella, your lady-in-waiting, gave you your niqaab and chaddar.

-

"And then, he told me about who Charlotte was and what really happened. It was all a big misunderstanding." You told Salauddin as he moved his pawn.

"You believed him?" He raises a brow as you made your move.

"Of course! I already knew Guy was behind it. I figured it from the letters, and his face practically gave it all away when I confronted him about it." You reached under your veil to fan yourself. "Is it burning in here or am I just imagining it?"

Salauddin turned and brought you some cold water. "Guy could be a threat to you. Dont trust him."

You turned your head to the side, barely lifting your veil before bringing the glass underneath it to your lips, gulping it down as you let out a relieved sigh. "I know. Guy is a tool, and tools are meant to be used."

His lips quirked slightly at your words. Sitting back down, he played his move. "When do you plan on leaving Baldwin?"

"Soon. The plan is in motion." You took some time before moving your knight. Salauddin wasnt making this game easy for you this time and neither was the hot temperature.

He leaned forward, taking your knight with his bishop. "And how do you plan on doing that when your fiance has just announced your wedding date?"

You narrowed your eyes at him. "How did you- spies?" Salauddin's silence confirmed how news travelled so fast. "You dont need to worry. I'll be long gone before the wedding day."

"Care to indulge me on your plan?" He popped a date in his mouth.

"No." You replied making him glare at you. "If your plan involves relying on Guy, then you're even stupider than you look."

You scoff, pushing his king down. "I'm sorry, how many rounds have you won against me?" He smirks, though you suspect that he's just trying to cover up for being a sore loser.

"Maybe I just let you win so that you get to live." Of course, how can you forget his "win or you die" version of chess.

"Whatever you say, grandpa." His jaw clenched, making you chuckle. "Your existence gives me a headache. Leave."

As you walked out, you're suddenly hit with a wave of dizziness. Under your veil, your face is sweaty, you cant even use your hands to wipe it away because of how clammy they are, you even feel beads of sweat rolling down from your neck to your leg.

"Are you alright?" Salauddin came up behind you, eyes studying you stumbling a bit.

"Yeah- I'm just- hot..." You muttered, sweat gathering around your upper lip while your mouth felt like cotton. He watched you blink slowly as the sun hit you in the face, making you raise your hand to shield yourself, even though your muscle cramped.

"Y/n?" You heard him call you, but black dots clouded your vision and then in a second, you fainted.

-

You woke up to the sound of drums playing outside. Looking around, you recognised this to be the women's tent you had been in the first time Baldwin brought you here.

Isabella walked in, halting for a moment when she realised you were awake before rushing towards you. "Princess? Are you okay?" She poured you a glass of water, helping you drink it. "What happened?"

"You fainted from the heat. We were going to take you back to the kingdom but Sultan Salauddin advised us all to stay put here because the air was only going to get hotter for the rest of the day. And by night, it would be too cold for us to make it back." She smiled gently. "He was kind enough to offer us stay here."

You nodded and sighed. For sure none of you wouldve survived if you were to return to Jerusalem today.

You walked out of the tent to see it was night now. The drums you heard earlier were being played by some men of Salauddin's, accompanied by few women clapping and having an overall merry time around the bonfire.

You didnt spot Salauddin with them, but you suppose he's probably either working or resting.

The temperature had indeed dropped as night fell, and you wrapped a shawl around before joining the camp fire. You sat down on the ground with some women, smiling as they immeadiately welcomed you warmly. The one on your right was quick to show you her baby, and you recognised him to be the one you saved.

"Jibrael." She told you his name. The baby was almost a month old, and his chubby cheeks made you coo. Jibrael- or Gabriel, is an angel who acted as an  intermediary between God and humans and as bearer of revelation to the prophets, most notably to Muhammad (PBUH). In Christianity, Gabriel was the archangel announcing the coming birth of Jesus Christ and John the Baptist. In Judaism, Gabriel is a helper to Daniel and a warrior angel for God's cause.

You played with the baby for a while before handing him back to his mother to be put down for sleep. It was getting cold now and most had already left to go to bed now. You wrapped the shawl around you closer, snuggling into it as your eyes gazed at the dancing flames. You felt someone sit next to you.

"How are you feeling now?" Salauddin asked, keeping his eyes ahead.

"I'm fine. Thank you for catching me."

"I didnt. You fell. It was funny." You turned to glare at him (the respectable gap between you two did not go unnoticed... or unappreciated by you.) and perhaps for the first time you saw him smiling. Genuinely.

Though his thick beard covered most of his lower third of the face, you could see his sharp jawline that sculpted his face. Strong. Hard. His lips, bottom one appearing to be plumper than the upper one, were resting in a relaxed smile.

The moonlight seemed to soften his sharp features, but his kohl lined eyes adorned with luscious lashes shone with amusement and... something in the orange hue of the bonfire.

He turned his head to you. "What?" You were thankful for your veil covering your expression for being caught staring at him like an idiot. You shake your head, dismissing him, turning your head back towards the dying fire.

"What are you going to do once you leave Baldwin?" Salauddin asked, stoking the fire.

"Leave."

"To where?" You shrug. "Anywhere. Maybe try finding my family. Or venture somewhere else."

"He wont give up so easily." You rolled your eyes. "Yeah yeah, because he loves me and all-"

"He wont forgive your betrayal." Salauddin cut you off. "He wont forgive you for the embarrasment. He wont forgive you for the insult of rejecting a king. He wont just- let you go." He looked at you, his tone haunting as he uttered the next words.

"Baldwin will hunt you down. And he will make you wish you were dead."

You stared at him, processing his words. Baldwin would... hurt me?

"Are we talking about the same man?" You ask him with a light chuckle, though your throat has ran dry.

He nods. "I know he seems like he couldnt hurt a fly, and physically, he couldnt until you cured him. But I've seen him on the battlefield. I've had him as my enemy and I've observed him obliterate people who just tick him off." He offered you some dates, and you took a few. You were hungry, and these looked pretty good right now.

"Baldwin is smart, calculating. He's the king, he has the power to end his enemy very easily. At the drop of a hat. But he doesn't. He waits for the perfect moment, or rather creates the perfect chance to torture any man who had the misfortune to be on the receiving end of his anger. And he does it with a completely cool, clear mind." And even though Salauddin has fought Baldwin many times, they both know they're only fighting for their people, for their religion. Its nothing personal, so they're technically not enemies.

"So what do you suggest I do to not piss him off so badly? I've already tried rejecting him respectfully."

He stayed quiet for a few moments, stoking the fire. He smiled when he felt your curious eyes on him.

"There is a way." He said.

"Which is...?"

His smile widened even more. "You're not ready for it yet." You frowned. "Drop the act, Salauddin. You came here by yourself because you wanted to tell me the plan. Stop teasing and just tell me." He chuckled hearing you become frustrated.

"In due time, Y/n. In due time." You roll your eyes, standing up. "I'm not going to beg you to tell me. But your "plan", which I dont think exists, it better not mess with my escape." You stomped back inside your tent, and Salauddin snickered as you tripped a bit on your chadar on the way in.

He stood up, giving a nod to the rest as they all settled in for the night.

-

"Salauddin!" You cried out, your eyes full of tears that he could see from a mile away, even if your were wearing a niqaab. He could feel your agony, your distress. You were standing in the middle of the desert alone, the boiling sun along with your black chadar covering you from head-to-toe, would only be increasing your body temperature. Why were you all alone? He left you with his caravan. Or did Baldwin leave you in this harsh enviorment to die? Did he find out you were going to leave him?

"Salauddin!" You called out to him again, your voice wet from all the crying. This time, he rode his horse towards you. Fast. He needed to get to you, even though the galloping hurt his shoulder. Yes, he got wounded while he was fighting. He sustained many injuries, many gashes, so much so that by the time he reached you, his white armour had turned bloody. But he was not bothered by it, no. He needed to reach you. You. How long have you been out here? Arent you dying of thirst?

Your arms were still wide open, though drooping from the lack of energy. He could hear you sobbing as you called him again, and he all but ran towards you, bodies colliding as he pulled you into a strong embrace. Muscled arms wrapped around you, comforting you that he's here now. You're safe now.

Salauddin looked around as you bawled into his chest, trying to see if everyone had really abandoned you here and... left you die.

You pulled away from him, but Salauddin didnt remove his hands from you. And thats when he felt the cloth you were wearing. It was too thin. The sun must've burned your skin now. Is that why you're crying? You're in pain?

In a blink, he removed his own thick black chadar that rested on his shoulders and wrapped it around you, pulling it over your head to stop more heat damage.

"Y/n?" He spoke softly as you continued to cry so brokenly as he adjusted the cloth over your body. "What happened?"

"Y-you left me!" You blubbered. He shook his head. "No. I- I left to go in battle. I couldnt take you along. It was dangerous-"

"You left me, Salauddin! You left me here! Baldwin- he hurt me! He hurt me so badly! And you weren't here to protect me!" You sobbed out, your eyes red and swollen from the tears. "I am a part of the ummah! I am a Muslim! You- you were supposed to keep me safe! On your honour, I was in your care! Why didnt you save me, Salauddin?"

Salauddin felt his heart being crushed at your words. He failed to keep you safe? But... he was at war. What was he supposed to do?

He grabbed your shoulders, pulling you to his chest as he rubbed circles into your back. "I'm sorry." He whispered, shushing you as your body shook from tears. "I'm here now. I promise to keep you safe, Y/n. I will never leave you again. I will never let anyone hurt you again. I swear, Allah as my witness, I will do everything to keep you safe." You pulled your head back from his chest, your red eyes looking at him weakly.

"You're too late, Salauddin." You whispered and a sharp sound whooshed through the air, making your body jolt in his arms. You both looked down and thats when he saw it-

An arrow. Poking through your chest.

"Y/n?" His voice trembled, watching the life drain out of your eyes.

You fell, and so did Salauddin, catching your body. He couldnt- he couldnt believe it. He cradled you in his arms, readjusting the chadar over you again, softly calling your name.

Wake up. Wake up, Y/n. Return to me.

Footsteps approached him, though he couldnt bare to tear his eyes from you. He already knew who it was.

"Why?" Salauddin asked him.

Baldwin kneeled down to his level, staring at you for a moment before yanking his arrow out of you, making a stream of blood gush out. Salauddin panicked, tried to cover the gaping wound with his hand. He looked at Baldwin in disbelief. This... this was not the Baldwin he knew. Baldwin was never so cruel- so heartless.

"She deserved it." Baldwin stated before stabbing him in the chest.

Salauddin continued to hold you in his arms, watching Baldwin leave on his horse as you two bled out to your deaths in the middle of the desert.

Salauddin woke up with a jolt, his forehead sweaty as he breathed fast. He could feel his heart beating against his chest loudly.

Nightmare. Thats all it was. He was still in his bed, in his tent.

He got up to fetch himself some water, taking sips to slow down his heart. Judging from the darkness, he knew it was still nighttime. It was quiet, everyone was asleep except for a few men he left to guard them.

It was quiet. Too quiet.

Salauddin whipped around just in time to knock the shadowy figure standing behind him with a sword. In a second, Salauddin had overpowered and snapped his neck, only then realising more shadows moving outside his tent.

"We're under attack! WAKE UP!" He yelled before grabbing his two swords and running out to defend his caravan.

-

You woke up to screaming and Isabella pulling you out of bed.

"We're under attack!" She says, yanking you out of the women's camp that was set on fire. Your eyes were wide and for a moment, you were frozen as you took the scene in front of you.

Fire. There was fire everywhere. All the camps were ablaze, along with some people being burned alive. Haunting screams echoed the entire area. Time slowed down as you saw Salauddin's men fighting... some people. You couldnt figure out who they were, but you knew they werent the knights Baldwin had assigned for you. No, you saw them fighting these mysterious figures as well. They were covered in dark clothes to blend in with the night, had hoods and masks covering their faces but they fought skilfully and very fast.

"Princess, we must leave!" Isabella caught your attention again, dragging you away from the chaos. You saw her following a knight- your knight, who led you towards a horse for you to escape with.

Salauddin... where's Salauddin?

You looked back frantically and you spotted him in the sea of flames, cutting through multiple armed one with his two swords slicing them brutally.

For a moment, your eyes met and then in the next, he screamed your name.

Isabella had pushed you away just in time as two men came at you with swords. You knight yelled at you to run. Again, Isabella pulled you to make an escape but it wasnt long before you two got separated by a woman who was on fire, running in between you two.

"H-help her." You told Isabella who took of her shawl to put out the fire. In the middle of all this commotion, you heard a distinct cry.

A baby's cry.

Jibrael!

It was coming from one of the tents. You ran in, looking around for the baby before spotting the bassinet. You grabbed the crying baby and held it close to your chest, trying to shush it as you walked towards the exit only to halt when you saw who was blocking it.

The shadowy figure. He was wearing dark hood and mask, while the rest of his armour was made of leather. He was armed with swords, daggers and a satchel.

It clicked. Assassin.

The assassin stared at you with dark eyes taking a step forward. You backed away, holding the crying baby protectively to your chest. He tilted his head at you, and for a second, you thought you saw amusement in his eyes.

Slowly, he walked out of the tent without saying a word but he stood right behind the curtain of the tent. You saw his shadow pull out his sword before standing there still.

What is he doing?

You turned around, hoping to find another exit but thats when you saw it. Two more shadows stood outside the tent and then they dropped something on the tent walls.

Fire. They lit the entire tent on fire and stood outside with their swords, giving you the choice to either die by their swords or burn yourself alive.

The fire spread fast, burning the flammable tent easily. Dark smoke started to surround you making you cough. The baby continued to cry harshly and you pulled him under your chadar to protect him from the fire and smoke.

But you didnt realise it until it was too late. Your chadar, your clothes had caught on fire as well. You screamed for help, screamed in agony as your skin burned. It felt like you were being branded, felt like someone was ripping your skin off.

Is this it? Is this how it all ends for you? Suffocated, skin charred, body naked? In a period where no one knows who you really are?

You fell to your knees before hunching over the baby, cradling it in your arms as its harsh cries burst your ears, protecting him from being burned for as long as you can.

Allah... Allah... Allah...

Through the thick smoke, a figure ran and covered your body with a thick cloth, patting down to put out the flames.

He picked your trembling body up, your arms still wrapped around the baby protectively. He walked through the ablaze tent, his face still covered by the smoke, or perhaps your vision was too blurry.

He exited the tent, the smoke cleared out and a gush of air filled your lungs. But you were burned, suffocated and exhausted.

The last thing you saw before your world faded to black was Salauddin's face.

-

You woke up to the sound of Quran recitation. A gentle, steady voice read the words beautifully.

Fluttering your eyes open, you looked around the room for the source. To your side, you found Salauddin reciting the Quran with his eyes closed in concentration. Was he a hafidh? (Hafidh is someone who has memorised the Quran completely).

He opened his eyes when finished reciting, looking stunned for a second to find you awake before a small smile graced his lips.

"We're in Egypt now." He informed you before concern washed over his face. "How are you feeling now? I changed your bandages in the morning, but I think its time to replace them." He grabbed the bowl of water and bandages on your side.

"B-bandages?" He stopped before understanding your confusion.

"You were in the tent when the assassins set it on fire. Your... clothes caught on fire, which stuck to your skin and burned it as well. I had to remove the remains of your clothes to treat your burns-"

"What?!" Your eyes looked down to confirm his words, he had indeed changed your clothes. "Why did you-" Your hands touched your face, heart sinking as you realised your veil was not there.

"You removed my niqaab?! My clothes?!" Your fury was only a disguise for your fear of what he'd seen, what he'd done to you in your vulnerable state.

He shook his head. "I had to do it as soon as we were safe. You were hurt-"

"Why? Why did you have to do it? Why not Isabella or any of the other women?!"

His face turned solemn. "Isabella... was gravely injured. She was in no position to look after you. Most people- most women from my tribe did not survive. The few who did were also wounded. The men... I just thought you wouldnt prefer someone you didnt know to look at you in such state." Salauddin looked at you, his eyes clear. "I did not do anything unbecoming of a man. Allah as my witness, I did not touch you with ill intent."

Perhaps it was the way he said it, or perhaps you just wanted to keep your mind at peace but... you believed him.

"How's Isabella now?" You let him change the dressings on your arms, watching him like a hawk as he moved quickly and carefully, no unnecessary touches or lingering that would make you uncomfortable. Even when he treated the the burns on the back of your legs, he worked fast, applying some balm on the red areas. The balm was like a cool gel against your irritated skin.

"She's better now. Just needed some rest." He replied as he finished wrapping the bandage on your legs. "Your back." Salauddin softly asked. You hesitated.

He sighed. "Y/n... I need to apply the balm or your skin will scar." You slowly turned around, holding your breath as you removed the robe from your back partially.

If he wanted to, he could've done anything when you were unconcious. You calmed yourself.

Again, Salauddin's hand worked fast, applying the balm quickly and placing some gauze over the marks. He pulled your robe over your back again, letting you turn around with a flushed face.

"My... my face?" You asked cautiously. You did not know if damage had been done there as well.

Salauddin understood you. "Fortunately, your face was save from the flames." He stood up and went over to the wardrobe to grab you a white chadar, handing it to you so that you cover your head with it. "Maybe when you were ducking over Jibrael, your arms covered both you and him from the fire."

"Jibrael...?" You asked. He smiled assuringly. "He's fine. You saved him... again." You sigh in relief. At least this wasnt all for naught.

Salauddin sits back down in the chair and though you've covered your hair with the shawl, he keeps his eyes trailed down on his hands in his lap. "I must ask you of one thing." You peeked at him before keeping your eyes focused on your lap as well.

"Will you... tell Baldwin about this incident?" Why would you when it would only cause Baldwin to panic and prevent you from leaving the castle, or his sight at all? You still need to come here to get parts for your time machine and even if the machine was working, you need to be able to use it without Baldwin or his army of knights breathing down your neck.

"No. It will only cause misunderstandings between you and him and I need to punish the real culprit for it."

He frowned but didn't raise his gaze. "And who might that be?"

"Those men... they were assassins, right?" He hummed. "Judging by how vicious they were, I think they were Ismailis."

Ismailis were a sect of Shia Muslims. Basically, like the great schism of Christianity into Orthodox and Catholic Church, Islam also had a schism that divided it into Sunni and Shia Islam. Shia Islam further had divided into different sects, of which one was Ismailis.

Sunni and Shia Muslims have been at war with each other since the beginning over religious differences. And considering Salauddin was not only Sunni Muslim but also targeted many Ismaili assassins so that they would not oppose his rule, it would be an understatement that they wanted Salauddin dead.

But... you know Salauddin had already gotten rid of most of the assassins and established his dominance over them. You're sure he's already had a peace treaty with them.

"Salauddin, you have an agreement with the Ismailis, don't you?" You watched his eyes widen slightly. "You're on peaceful terms with them at the moment?"

"How did you know?" Of course, the great Sultan Salauddin, an orthodox Sunni, wouldn't want the world to know that he spared the Ismailis. No, that would stir rumours that Salauddin has empathy for Ismailis, for the Shias, and which would lead to the rumours of hum being a Shiite Muslim.

You waved him off. "I know your character. I know of your mercy. Besides, I know both you and the Ismailis have a bigger common enemy- the Christians. Its more than likely that the Ismailis are supporting you so that you defeat Baldwin and claim Jerusalem, then they can focus on you. Plus, if the Ismailis wanted to kill you, why wait until now? They know you've been camping outside Jerusalem for months now." Salauddin was... impressed by your deduction skills to say the least. How are you connecting the dots so fast? Just who are you, Y/n?

You rubbed your chin. "So that means that someone not only hired the assassins but also wants us to think that the Ismailis were behind it all." Who could it be? Someone who wants to harm Salauddin but... they also wanted to harm you. It couldnt be the Roman Catholics or other Christians. No, they'd know better than to interfere with Baldwin, their Holy Emperor's war. Especially not with his wife-to-be in harms way. Who... who would know that you're with Salauddin and still attempt an assassination-

"Guy." You muttered, pinching the nose of your bridge. Of course, its fucking Guy, shit for brains Guy who cant sit still and wait his turn to play king.

"Guy? Why would he attack me when you're still here?" Salauddin's mind immeadiately gives an answer as soon as he asks out loud.

"Because I am here." You groan. "He's trying to eliminate us both, or at the very least- me, while I'm with you so that he can provoke Baldwin to go to war with you because you "killed" his future wife. He would tell Baldwin that it doesnt matter if they were Ismailis or not, we were all Muslims and this is just how Muslims are! He'd send Baldwin off to not only go to war with you but rather go to war with Muslims everywhere! And knowing Guy, he probably hopes that Baldwin dies in the process of his rampage. If you, me or Baldwin are all dead, or even one of us is, then Guy will only have to worry about dealing with one less person. His best bet was probably to get rid of me and you both, then have Baldwin go to war with all the Muslims who killed his fiancee. He's using all of us as pawns so that he gets to sneak on to the throne and be king!"

You heard Salauddin sigh. Perhaps he agreed with your theory. Perhaps he didnt. Whatever he may think, you know he will still conduct a thorough investigation of his own to find out who the real culprit is,

"Dont worry, I will deal with Guy. In fact, I'll let you have him to slaughter as you please." Of course, Salauddin will kill Guy. He has to pay for the blood of all his people.

Salauddin watched you get up from the bed and walk towards the vanity. "How long will these take to heal?" You asked, referring to your burns. "Usually take about a month, but the balm I used will significantly fade the marks." Good. You dont need Baldwin freaking out over them.

He stood up to take his leave. "I'll check on what information they've been able to gather from the assassin we caught. You-" He pointed towards the bed. "Rest. I mean it. These burns will only get worse in the heat outside, thats why I gave you the coolest room in the palace." He continued to glare at you until you finally sighed and sat on the bed. "I have to go see Isabelle-" You tried but he raised his hand. "No. You are to stay here, in your room. No one gets in, and no one gets out. I dont trust anyone to not try to kill you, not even in your own entourage- whatever is left of them. My men are stationed right outside. If you need anything, you tell them. But you are not to leave your chambers."

"I'll see you at dinner." He left and you saw the guards stationed outside your door.

The great thing about Egyptian palaces was that they had big windows to allow for ventilation. So you were already out of the window and climbing along the edge. You were about to jump when you heard someone call you.

"P-princess?!" Isabelle looked at you in horror. Apparently, you had climbed down near the balcony of her room. "Oh hey, Isabelle! How are you now?"

"I- I'm fine- princess, please get down from there!" She practically begged, fearing for your life. You climbed over her balcony and hugged her. "I'm so glad you're okay! Because I need you to do me a favour." You gave her a sweet smile while she looked at you in confusion. "See, I need to go out for a bit but Salauddin has told me to stay in and rest. So... I need you to cover for me again, just like last time."

"I- what- princess-"

"I wouldnt ask you if it wasnt of grave importance." You pleaded, finally making her give in. "Okay, I'll go to your room-" You stop her when she begins walking away.

"You cant just walk in there. There's guards stationed there and they wont let you in."

"Then how am I supposed to get in?"

You smiled at her. She didnt like that smile. It wasnt... well meaning.

"Well..." You looked at the balcony and she followed your gaze, almost immediately coming to tears.

"Princess please-"

"I am right here. I will help you, I promise Isabelle! I wont let you fall."

-

After helping a trembling Isabelle climb into your room, you had finally made your way to the madrassa. You had covered your face with your chadar and sneaking inside was no feat.

Abbas jumped out of his seat the moment you entered.

"Y/n! I thought you forgot all about me- wait what happened to your hands?" He referred to the bandages.

"I had an accident while conducting an experiment." "What experiment? Can I be a part of it? Please please please-"

"Abbas." You silenced him. "Business first. Did you make the tools I asked you to?" He quickly ran to his desk and pulled them out from the drawer. You examined them. They werent the best but you could make do with them. You nodded before asking for a paper so that you could draw the last few bits you needed.

"I need these by the end of this week." Abbas chuckled. "Oh I thought you were joking. How do you expect me to build- whatever this is! in a week? No way. I would need to get all the material and-"

"Abbas. I need it this week. I dont care how, but you have to do it."

He looked at you suspiciously. "Maybe if you could just tell me what it is that you're making-"

"No. I cant. And you will make me this by the end of the week, if not earlier because I have a very good reward waiting for you."

Abbas rolled his eyes. "I dont need your money-"

"I will let you ask me anything you want. Any question on any topic you'd like." You knew Abbas's thirst for knowledge.

You saw the twinkle in his eyes. "I will still take the money." "Of course, but I'll pay you after you make me this." He sighed and agreed.

"Wait- check this please?" He handed you his journal that had some math equations. You huffed, grabbing his pen and working on the mistakes. "I'm doing this just so that you do my work." You gave him some other math problems you did in grade 8 and handed it back to him.

You turned to leave before pausing.

"Abbas?" He hummed. "I think... we should set some security measures." You whispered.

"Whatever for?"

"Just in case someone came looking for me or my work. You know you're not supposed to tell anyone about this."

"I couldnt even if I wanted to." He tilted his head. "Why would someone come looking for you? Are you in trouble?"

You shake your head. "No. But you're aware of how other... scholars are eager to steal ideas." He nodded, being a victim of such crime.

"What do you have in mind?"

-

Salauddin was informed when you had returned to the palace. Of course he knew the moment you left. This was his Egypt. Not a bird flies without his knowledge here.

He sent out a spy after you, both to keep you safe and to follow you around. He couldnt help but let out a huff when he was told of your daring climb out of the window. Didnt he tell you to stay in bed?

"This girl..." He grumbles.

The spy told him that you went inside the madrassa. Why? What business could you possibly have there?

Perhaps you're creating a poison? To kill Baldwin? No, there would be easier ways to get poison. You did tell him and Baldwin that you were going to Egypt to find your family, but he has a hard time believing that.

Just what were you upto?

He'll find out soon enough. This is his kingdom, he finds out things. And he'll find out your secret too.

He knocked on your door before entering. You were sitting on your bed, your face now covered with a niqaab and your hair with his white chadar. His clothes. He felt something warm in his heart at the thought.

"How are you now?" He asked, his hands clasped behind his back.

"I'm fine. Just bored waiting here all day." You sighed exasperatedly.

Such a liar.

"I apologise for not being able to entertain you. I was busy with the assassin." You looked at him in anticipation. "He didn't reveal much but he did say that they were hired. I suppose that would bring us closer to your theory."

He watched your eyes narrow in thought. "It has to be Guy. He knew I was going to the desert to you first. He needed to get rid of me without anything to come back on him. Coward."

The door was knocked.

"I hope you dont mind- I had them bring dinner up here." Salauddin explained, letting the servants in. They set down a dastarkhawan in the balcony. A red table cloth was set on the ground, onto which many dishes were placed. You both sat down on cushions, the area was lit up with candles placed. You were busy admiring the view of the pyramids from your seat while Salauddin poured you some ginger kehwa.

"Here." You lifted your niqaab a bit to sip the hot tea, a sigh escaping your lips. Salauddin's lips quirked a bit but he, like you, kept his eyes focused on the pyramids.

You picked up the plate of dates from your side, knowing how fond he is of them. "Here." You mimicked his voice, making him smile as he grabbed a piece.

You both silently ate, admiring the view and enjoying each others presence.

Some time later, you were both done with dinner and just sat in silence. That is until Salauddin spoke.

"I'm sorry." You looked at him. "For letting you get hurt."

You exhaled, trailing your eyes back towards the night sky that was littered with gleaming stars.

"I know. But you shouldnt be, Salauddin. I'm not made of porcelain."

I know. I saw you jumping off the palace walls with the confidence of an assassin and the grace of a headless chicken.

"Still, you're under my care. I am responsible for you-"

"I free you of this burden." You're not a burden. "I am not that hurt and I am not scarred for life. If anything, all that incident made me question is just how far would man go?" Your eyes glazed over as you recalled the incident in the tent, where the assassin left you and the baby to burn to death. You could understand killing you, but a baby? He was willing to let a baby burn?

"It makes me believe just how barbaric people were to the Ahl al-Bayt (family of Prophet Muhammad PBUH). How easy it was for them to slaughter his lineage, how easy it was for them to keep water from them, how their hearts did not halt for a moment when they heard the cries of Ali Asghar- who they killed with an arrow in the neck." Your eyes glistened. "A baby. He was just a baby. How would've his father felt in that moment, holding his dead son in his arms, knowing he had to bring him home to his wife?" The battle of Karbala was one of the most heart wrenching tragedies of Islam and whats worse is that Prophet Muhammad knew of it years before it happened. He knew his own grandsons will face martyrdom years before it actually happened, when they were just little children in his arms.

"Man is cruel." Salauddin stated.

"But Allah made man. Why... would he allow man to be so cruel? Even animals are not this merciless." You wondered.

"Because man cannot see God." He says. "There are signs of His existence, signs for those who wish to be guided. Animals can see God. Angels can see God. Humans... Allah has made us with the ability to think, to choose. Man chooses to be cruel when he forgets that Allah is watching, that these things- the stones, the trees, everything around him? They're all living beings who will testify against man." He smiles. "But that is why the true believers also have a greater reward in the hereafter. What do you think of the reward, of what you'll get when you enter heaven? You dream of wealth, of food, of all luxuries. But there's a greater reward waiting for us. Do you know what that is?"

You gave a slight shake of your head.

"The true believers will see Allah. They will get to meet their Lord, their Creator, the One who saw them through it all, the One who knows their secrets and kept them hidden, the One continued to shower His blessings upon them even when they were not grateful." Those words... they comforted you. How peaceful it is to the heart to hear that your Creator waits for you. The One who has seen you shed tears and took care of you in this world will also take care of you in the next. And at the same time, this is such devastating news for the sinners too. Those who act selfishly, who forget who their Lord is, they will end up in hell and will never get the opportunity to see their Creator again, to ask of mercy from the most Merciful.

"Still..." You mumbled, wanting to find an excuse for such wickedness.

"It is not our place to ask why, Y/n. Allah does not owe us answers, explanations. He already has given us His book for guidance, his prophets for example. But know this- everything happens for a reason. Maybe the battle of Karbala was just to show us how quick man can turn on his own. Perhaps in the future, a time will come when people will kill many women and children, slaughter men so brutally while the entire world watches and yet... no one does anything. And then people will wonder- surely, man is not so evil. Surely, man wouldn't kill innocent children. Perhaps then they will remember history."

-

Salauddin woke up with a sigh. He had gone to sleep after he left your room last night, but he woke up from yet another dream he had of you. You. You. You. Since that night in the desert, he's been having constant dreams about you. Its either you dying at the hands of Baldwin or Guy, or its you asking him to help you. Tonight, he dreamt of you two celebrating Ramadan together, with you picking up the plate and offering him dates, however unlike dinner, you were sitting much closer to him in his dream, by his side. So close, he could see himself in your eyes.

Salauddin wasnt vain enough to admit it to himself- he had feelings for you. But what were they?

Lust? Not really, he's seen far prettier women than you. Beauty... is subjective and Salauddin is a firm believer in "beauty is in the eye of the beholder".

Admiration? No. He admires your intelligence and your wit but Salauddin also has those qualities.

Infatuation? Sure he does think about you often during the day but not enough to call it obsession.

No, its love. It has to be. His heart doesnt know what exactly it is about you that draws him in. His mind doesnt comprehend why he feels like you belong with him but his soul, every fibre of his being screams that you do.

Allah has created someone for someone. He created Eve for Adam, He creates a woman from the rib of the man.

Salauddin touches the side of his chest, just above his abdomen.

Perhaps you're his missing rib.

You were smart, you were daring, you were also stupid enough to put yourself in harms way but it was... endearing. More importantly, you were the only person who could bicker with him, stand your ground against him and get away with it too.

He sat down on a chair, looking out at the pyramids. Like the man he's named after (Prophet Yusuf/Joseph), Salauddin believes in dreams having meaning. Perhaps its a way for God to talk to you, to warn you or guide you.

And from all his dreams about you, he's come to interpret it that he must save you from Baldwin... and everyone else. And he can save you- he can save you without you having to go through the trouble to be plotting against Baldwin and endangering yourself by working with Guy.

He could marry you.

If you were to marry Salauddin, you would become the queen of Egypt and the wife of the strongest Muslim leader of the time. Not only that but the entire ummah, Muslims around the world will come together as one to fight against Baldwin, against anyone who dares to harm you. You would be safe, you would be secure by his side as his wife.

But the plan is easier said than done.

Baldwin wouldnt backdown so easily. He would wreak havoc and if he's as obsessed with you as Salauddin has seen him, then he wouldnt stop at nothing to get you back. Baldwin will have to be dead for you to be safe from him.

Besides Baldwin, you yourself also are a hurdle. You havent shown any interest in him (which is understandable because you're engaged) but he doubts you're interested in marrying anyone at all. You're not one to be affected his wealth or status, you dont go for materialistic things. He's sure if he were to ask your hand, you would laugh hysterically and then maybe try mocking him. And Salauddin does not want to force you to marry him. He wants you to want him.

There is a way he could convince you. All he has to do is make himself look better than any man, especially Baldwin because you do seem to have a soft spot for him despite trying to sabotage him.

A sinister idea comes to mind.

What if Baldwin breaks up with you?

If Baldwin, for any reason, decides not to marry you then not only will you be free from him but a war will be avoided.

All Salauddin has to do is give Baldwin a reason to break up with you. He could send some concubines to him, but he doubts Baldwin would use them. And even if he did, it isnt reason enough for him to call off things with you. No, the only way Baldwin would break up with you is... if you're unfaithful to him. You dont need to cheat, dont need to sleep with any man. No, you dont have to do anything at all. All he has to do is make sure you're in the right place at the right time and Baldwin's there too, just enough to create doubt in his mind. And the ball will roll from there. Baldwin will continue to second guess your loyalty to him until he's driven himself insane. Then he'd leave you without ever punishing you for a crime he thinks you committed but has no proof of. Thats when Salauddin will swoop in as your knight in shining armour and you'll see that all men but him are shit and you'll say yes to his proposal-

No.

He sighed, rubbing his temples. Despite it being a perfect plan, the safest plan- Salauddin cant bare to stain your character. He cannot spread a rumor about you being unfaithful. He cannot have anyone talk badly of you, even if it will end up with you in his arms. You're important to him. And if you ever figure out that Salauddin was the one behind it all, you'd never forgive him. You would never trust him.

The thought of you not trusting him, just like you dont trust him enough to tell him why you sneaked out of the palace, it hurts him. He doesnt know why but he wants you to trust him- trust him enough that you come to him with your problems and have faith that he will solve them for you. He will keep you safe. He will protect you.

He will have to find another way.

Salauddin offered the morning prayer before reciting the Quran, asking Allah for guidance for his problems and good health for you.

He walked out of his room and turned to the corridor where your room was, only to find you sneaking out of the room with Isabelle. You were still wearing his white chaddar, and it engulfed your small body like a blanket as you hurriedly walked down-

You tripped on the bottom of the long chaddar and fell face first.

"Princess!" Isabelle cried out as she helped you up, but you quickly dusted yourself off and continued talking her ear off as if nothing had happened, the tail of the chaddar trailing behind you as Isabelle walked beside you to keep up with what you were saying.

"Idiot..." He whispered to himself, though he was smiling. He called a servant and ordered him to bring the finest chaddars and niqaabs for you. He cant have you tripping all over the place because you wear his chaddar that was too big for you, despite how adorable you looked in it.

-

You knocked on his door.

"Salauddin, I was going to the market-"

"And you came to ask for permission? Okay, granted." He waved you off with a smirk.

You rolled your eyes. "Where do you get the audacity- nevermind. I came to ask if you'd lend me a few gold coins? I need to buy some things, souvenirs if you will." You had lost your coin purse in the desert and you need to pay Abbas.

He raised a brow. "What do you need? I can have it brought to you here."

You pursed your lips. Why is he being difficult? "I dont know what I need until I look. Just give me some money, I promise to pay you back as soon as I can."

He stood up, walking upto you but you neither backed away nor moved your eyes from him. "Its not about the money." He pulled out a pouch and dropped it in your hands. "I worry for your safety. Who knows how many others Guy has hired to kill you? I'm coming along."

"Aww, you're worried about me? That's so sweet-"

"I wouldnt want my image to tarnish because a guest died in my care." Your smile dropped as you grumbled something under your breath.

"Whatever. I still dont need you to tag along-"

"Good thing about being the sultan is that I dont need anyone's permission." He cut you off before walking past you. You stomped after him. "Salauddin, dont you have work-"

"You can either come with me or stay in your room for the rest of your stay here." He stated.

-

"What?" He heard you snicker beside him. Your eyes twinkled with amusement. "Oh, its just these rags suit you a lot." Salauddin and his guards had worn disguises to blend in with the commoners. He didnt want to draw attention to you two.

He rolled his eyes. "I have to blend in for your safety-" "I have never looked more in danger than I do right now. Look around and see people staring at a lady dressed so modestly is surrounded by brooding men wearing rags." You giggled as Salauddin looked around to see some people were indeed looking your way.

You stopped at a small stall that was selling some jewellery. You were looking at some rings, trying to choose something for Sibylla. The shopkeeper, an old man must've seen Salauddin standing over your shoulder looking around for any suspicious men.

"Son, why dont you help your wife pick something? Focus on her!" The shopkeeper said, catching you both off guard. You looked at Salauddin and laughed at his surprised face. Continuing to pull his leg, you stared up at him and batted your lashes. "Well, husband? What do you think would suit me?" You asked raising two different earrings to your face. One had a ruby in it, the other had sapphire.

He looked at you for a moment.

"Neither."

Your smile underneath your veil vanished, and you placed the earrings back on the table.

"The blue opal ones." He nodded his head as the shopkeeper handed him the tear drop gold earrings that had the precious stones fixed in it. He brought the earrings near your face, never touching it as his eyes assessed his pick.

"They bring out your eyes." He said before paying the old man and giving them to you, all while you were looking at him in awe.

"Wait! Why did you pay? I had the money." You two had begun walking again. "You mean the money I gave you?" You frowned. "I'm gonna pay you back." He smiled. "You dont need to. I have enough. As for the earrings... consider them a gift."

"Gift?"

He hummed, his chest puffed up. "Part of the hospitality of the sultan."

You glared at him before smiling. "Thanks." You two continued to walk around the market, Salauddin gave alms to the poor he encountered. You were standing at another stall, watching in fascination as the man ground up the black powder and mixed it with oils to make kohl. He filled it up in a beautiful vessel before asking if you'd like to try it.

"Oh, I dont know how to." Especially not without a mirror, which the man didnt have. But he was persistent to sell his product and when he looked at Salauddin's kohl lined eyes, he offered it to him.

"Would you apply it on your wife?" This time, Salauddin didnt react like he did the earlier when he was associated with you. He took the wooden stick dipped in the kohl and looked at you for permission.

You gave a nod. He walked upto you, gently cupping your veil covered face. You thanked God for the niqaab, or else he would've seen how violently you were blushing.

"Chin up." He whispered before tilting your chin up. Your eyes shifted as they stared into his brown ones. "Open wide." He ordered, even though your eyes were already saucer shaped from the close proximity.

He began tracing the soft edge of the stick along the waterline of your right eye. He seemed to have noticed that you were holding your breath. "Relax." He softly commanded, patting your cheek with his thumb. That broke you out of your trance as you narrowed your eyes at him.

"Dont tell me what to do." You grumbled. "Open wide." He ordered again bringing the stick up to your left eye for a second coat. You hated the way he commanded you, hated that he seemed to be having his fun with this.

"Dont order-"

"If you dont listen to me, I will marry you today." Your eyes blew wide open in shock.

"What-?!"

"Hush." He smiled placing kohl on your now wide eyes. "Whats wrong? You seemed to enjoy playing my wife but when I joke to marry you, you dont like it."

He's... joking?

Without realising, you blinked causing the still wet kohl to spread in your eyes. Salauddin had pulled the stick back just in time to not poke your eye out.

You hissed in pain, raising your hand to rub your eyes but Salauddin caught your wrist pushing it down.

"Open your eyes, Y/n. Look at me. I said- look at me." You opened your eyes to stare at him, your vision blurry from the mixture of tears and kohl.

Salauddin grabbed his handkerchief and began to dab the excess away as he tutted at you to stay still. Once he was done wiping the excess away, he blew cold air on your irritated eyes gently.

"I swear... if you dont sit still, I really will marry you today." He threatened you as he watched your red eyes glare at him. He didnt like that you were in pain, even if your own stupidity was the cause of it. This time when he applied kohl, you didnt dare to move an inch.

Fortunately, he worked faster this time around.

He gave a nod of approval when he was done. You dont know whether it was because he liked how your eyes looked now or if he was admiring his own work.

Salauddin handed the man money before taking a few bottles of kohl.

For the next hour, you two walked around in silence mostly. The image of your kohl lined eyes occupied his mind, not only because of how beautiful they were but also all the emotions that switched in a matter of seconds. You could try and hide your feelings all you want but your eyes tell. The eyes... they're the window to one's soul.

He saw attraction, anger, mesmerisation, disgust and pain in your eyes. Or maybe he's overthinking this. Maybe it was all just momentary and you really do hate the idea of being married to him.

You were both standing at yet another shop, this one was selling dates. Salauddin walked inside the shop a little more to inspect the quality of the dates, expecting you to be following behind him but when he turned around, you were gone. He walked outside the shop, hoping to find you there but it seemed like you had vanished. Even his guards hadnt seen you.

And then, as Salauddin whipped his head around, he saw the silloutte of your chadar disappearing around the corner. He ran after you, hoping to not lose you in the crowd but as soon as he turned around the corner, he couldnt spot you anywhere. He ran down the street, looking left and right but you werent there.

Where are you, Y/n?

He began walking back towards the main street when in the corner of his eye, he caught the sight of a familiar chadar. He turned his head to the right and there you were, standing with your back to him under the shadow of the large canopy of the shop talking to some man.

He walked up behind you, the man you were talking to seeing him first.

"Y/n." He snapped. You turned startled before your shoulders relaxed at the sight of him. "Oh, its just you. Did you buy the dates?"

Dates? You're asking him about dates after you just made his heart stop for a few minutes?

"Why did you leave me?" Ya Allah, that came out way more desperate than he wanted it to.

"I was getting something from this man." He raised a brow, almost as if he didnt believe you. You sighed. "This is Abbas. I hired him to make some things for me?"

"Such as?" You narrowed your eyes at his accusatory tone before nodding at Abbas, who then pulled out a heaxagonal shaped board that looked somewhat similar to a-

"Its 3 people chess!" You exclaimed, bouncing on your feet as you handed it to Salauddin. "I designed it and had Abbas make it for you!"

"For me?" He asked, turning the board around as he tried to understand how it would work.

"Yeah. I wanted to thank you for saving my life. And for your hospitality. And for lending me money."

His eyes softened slightly. "You dont need to thank me, Y/n. Its... my duty. I'm responsible for you." You waved him off. "Yeah yeah. Look, just take this and I'll teach you how to play so that one day you could play it with your wife and... kid? Or maybe with your wife and Baldwin? Or two wives-?"

"Y/n, I appreciate the gift but I would appreciate your silence more now." You pouted at his words but never the less, you both left to return to the palace, unaware of the eyes watching you two.

The mysterious figure wrote down what he'd seen before using messenger eagle to deliver the note to Jerusalem.

-

It had almost been a week in Egypt. You and Salauddin were having lunch together when a guard came to him and whispered something in his ear, the sultan frowning.

"Whats wrong?" You asked him.

He looked at you. "Baldwin... he's coming to Egypt."

"What? When?"

"He's crossed the desert. He should be getting here today, in a few hours." Salauddin was still frowning. Why is Baldwin coming to Egypt?

You shook your head. "Baldwin wouldnt ever leave Jerusalem, not unless..." Your eyes widened at the realisation.

"He's coming for a war." Salauddin confirmed.

Fuck.

Part 7 is here!

[daisymbin]

do you hate me? (no, i don't, princess.) - choi seungcheol

warnings: mentions of alcohol (slightly intoxicated reader)

pairings: choi seungcheol x afab reader

genre: best friends to lovers, fluff, slight angst

a/n: i know i did best friends to lovers for wonwoo already but this has been sitting in my drafts for quite awhile and also, tbh this is probably one of my fav tropes hahaha enjoy!

check out my masterlist! // cheol's m.list

seungcheol's pov

''cheol-ah...do you hate me?''

''no, my love, i dont.'' i watch as a small smile flashes across her flushed cheeks. im not sure why i even responded to her at all seeing how drunk she was. she probably wont remember any of this in the morning when she wakes up anyway.

''who the hell gave her this much to drink? you guys know she can't hold her liquor well! you should have stopped her!'' i was honestly no where near as upset as i sounded. while a part of me is slightly upset, im also rather glad and relieved. glad that i can be here to take care of her and relieved because...its me who gets the privilege of taking care of her.

''im sorry hyung, i didnt expect her to drink so much and so quickly as well. soonyoung hyung and i were just getting dinner after work together but we ran into her so we went together. i swear i tried stopping her but im no match for the two of them! i couldnt even stop soonyoung hyung.'' dino said with a pout. ''i wanted to send her back home but she kept insisting that she wont leave with anyone else but you. i dont think she even recognises me right now. she kept calling me a stranger and said if i dont stop pestering her, her best friend would come fight me... i didnt have a choice hyung...'' dino looks almost terrified and its funny. i was trying so hard to fight a smile from coming out.

dino thought that i was mad at him for calling me out this late at night on my day off but truth be told, if this is what you call a disturbance then this would be the best kind. i love her. not that i would ever admit that to anyone. although, i don't think i need to. i know that the boys can tell. ''oh hyung...you're here?'' soonyoung finally spoke out. i shook my head in slight disapproval as i watch soonyoung slouch on the chair, almost losing his balance and falling over. ''chan-ah, i think you should bring soonyoung home. he's wasted.''

''i will hyung. im sorry again for calling you but you're her best friend afterall and she was asking for you.'' yeah, best friend indeed.

i watched as dino hauled soonyoung towards an incoming cab before i finally sat down beside her. ''how are you feeling?'' i asked as i gently helped her get up to walk towards my car that was parked just by the side of the road. ''just a little dizzy and fuzzy.'' i chuckled at that. fuzzy? cute.

i opened the door to the passenger seat and helped her in. i buckled her seatbelt for her and stepped back. ''where are you going?'' she looked at me with a slight sadness to it. i chuckled as i gently patted the side of her head. ''to the driver's seat, princess. we've gotta get you home somehow, dont we?'' she smiles at my response and i finally manage to close her side of the door.

''cheol-ah, can you hold my hand? it feels empty..'' her hand comes up to where mine is and held it in place before i could even answer. i could feel my heart beating so loud. how does she do it with such ease? i wonder if she knows how nervous she makes me feel. ''cheol-ah, do you hate me?'' she asked as she tried to keep her eyes open. probably fighting sleep. ''no, i dont, princess. i thought i already told you that just now.'' i said with a smile.

''i just wanted to make sure.'' she said as she let out a deep breath.

''why would i hate you?'' and this time, she closes her eyes. ''i just feel like...if you knew how i really felt about you, you would hate me.''

''i could never hate you no matter what, and besides, you know you can tell me anything, right? i'll always be by your side.'' i tried to reassure her.

''you can't say that when you dont know anything.''

''tell me then.''

''i can't cheol.''

''why not? i thought we promised each other not to keep any secrets between us?'' i immediately bit my tongue as soon as i said that; knowing full well that im keeping my biggest secret from her as well.

''but if i tell you....can you promise me not to get mad?''

''i promise.''

''theres someone i like...no no..theres someone im in love with for the past 2 years but i dont think he feels the same way..i thought it was just a stupid crush at first and that it would go away but it never did and my crush only grew bigger...i thought i would be able to handle it and pretend like it doesnt affect me but it does and i cant take it anymore.''

and there it was. that churning feeling in the pit of my stomach. my hands start to get clammy and my throat starts to feel dry. ''for 2 years?'' i start to think back to when that time period was. was it 2022? i had already been in love with her for 2 years by 2022. was i a fool to not have noticed that she had her eyes on someone else while i had mine on her?

''yeah..2 years..isnt that so pathetic?'' pathetic? i've been in love with you for 4 years..who is the pathetic one here? but instead i said ''no, its not. i've been worse.'' i am worse. i let out a deep sigh as i felt my heart slowly breaking. i felt like my heart was hard candy and a kid is just throwing me onto the ground and stomping on my heart with no regards whatsoever other than to smash this piece of candy into broken bits for the fun of it.

''come on. we're here.'' i parked the car and got out of the driver's seat and walked over to open the door of the passenger seat. ''cheol-ah...can you carry me in? my legs are not working.'' i wanted to say: of course, princess. anything for you. but i held my tongue. without saying a word, i lifted her up and closed the car door.

i punched in the code to the door, kicked my shoes off and carried her straight to her bedroom. i laid her down gently on her bed before kneeling down beside her to take her shoes off. i walked towards the bathroom to look for some cotton pads and make up remover as i returned to her bed, to her. ''come on my love, let's get your make up cleaned off hmm? otherwise you'll have a fit tomorrow about sleeping with your make up on.'' i smiled as i recalled that one time she slept in with her make up on and had the biggest fit in the morning about forgetting to take them off, screaming about how her skin will become worse and she'll turn even uglier, but she could never. it was just not possible. she is beautiful, always have been and always will be regardless of anything.

''no one takes care of me the way you do.'' she said softly against my ear as i helped her sit up to wipe her face clean. ''yet, you're still in love with some guy who i don't even know for 2 years!'' i tried to mask my sadness with some fake laughter. i hope she can't tell.

''i can't tell you...i can't tell anyone.''

''why not? is it that bad? plase don't tell me its soonyoung.''

''what? soonie? don't be crazy, he's like a brother to me.''

''then who is it?''

''mhm..can't say...''

i sighed and said ''lets get you to bed now. you're tired.'' as i get up to head to the bathroom, i felt her tug the sleeve of my jacket. forcing me to look back at her.

''can you stay here with me tonight? sleep with me.'' how could i ever say no to her? i would be the biggest idiot if i ever did. i always want to be close to her.

i let out a breath as i took my jacket off and throwing it on her work chair. ''come here, princess.'' i mindlessly held my hand out to her as i laid in bed with her. she rolled over clumsily to my side, putting her head on my chest. i wonder if she can hear the sound of my heartbeat picking up as strongly as i can feel it beating against my chest.

she took a deep inhale before she said ''you smell so good cheol, you always do.'' i smiled lightly as i pulled her in closer and tigher. nothing ever feels more right than when i have her in my arms.

''goodnight princess, sleep tight.''

''i love you.'' she said, almost too casually for my liking. telling each other we love each other isn't anything new, but how can she possibly say that to me after telling me she's been in love with someone else for the past 2 years? my heart broke again at the remembrance of that.

''goodnight, princess.'' i couldn't tell her i love her back, not when we don't love each other the same way. not when she doesn't love me the same way.

''why don't you say it back?'' she sounded hurt and it made me regret not saying it back...i never want to hurt her.

''do you hate me?'' she asked again.

''no i don't, princess. i love you.'' i said as i felt my heart sink little by little.

i carelessly start stroking her hair, hoping to put her to sleep soon. ''i love you.'' i said again.

when will i ever get the chance to tell her i love her again without having to hide my romantic feelings for her? when will i ever get to tell her i love her again without having to worry if she's finally figured me out? its so much easier to do it in the dark like this..where she can't see me, where i can hide. where i can love her proudly and openly without being afraid.

''i'm in love with you'' she said as she snuggled closer.

''let's sleep now its- wait what?'''

this time, its her turn to sigh. ''i said im in love with you, choi seungcheol.''

''you're drunk.''

''maybe..but i'm still in love with you. it doesn't change anything.''

i look down at her on my chest, but she was already looking at me. ''don't joke with me like that, princess. you know i don't take jokes well.''

''but i'm not.''

''you're not thinking clearly, princess. we've been best friends for forever, there's no way you're suddenly in love with me.''

''but its not sudden.''

i averted my eyes away from her to look back at the ceiling. i cant even look at her now. not when she's looking at me like that. not when she's looking at me like she means it, because i know it can't be.

''don't you have that guy you say you're in love with for 2 years? how would he feel if he found out that you're suddenly in love with me? how can you say it so casually? did u ever think about how i would feel? you can't just-'' and there it was. i felt my whole world stop, i felt it freeze. am i the one thats intoxicated tonight? what is happening because it can't be. that can't be her lips on mine.

she took advantage of my lips being slightly open from shock to slip her tongue in mine. and i let her. the same way she lets me run my hand through her hair, the same way she lets me kiss her back, and the same way she lets me pull her in closer by her neck to deepen the kiss.

''you're so noisy cheol.'' were not the words i expected to come out of her mouth after that kiss. ''what do you-''

''can i love you cheol? can i love you like that? can i be in love with you?''

i wanted so badly to screamYES but nothing comes out no matter how i try. i was dumbfounded. instead, all i did was let out a shakey breath.

''cheol...why are you not saying anything? are you....are you mad at me? i'm sorry i didn't mean to, i don't know what came over me im so-'' i felt her slowly removing her hands from my waist and letting go of my hand. ''no no no god im not upset i'm just.. i don't know what to say i don't know how to respond i just...'' i sighed at myself as reach out to hold her hand again.

''i'm in love with you too, i have for as long as i can remember.''

''really?''

''yes, really, princess.''

and it goes silent for awhile before i finally picked up the courage to ask ''did you..did you mean me? i mean...the guy that you were in love with. is it..is it me? because i understand if its not me and if this was a mistake-''

''yes, dummy. its you.'' this time i get to see her shy smile.

''oh...i see...cool.'' oh. oh? OH. it's me. i'm yet again rendered speechless. can i be blamed if the girl i've been in love with for the past 4 years suddenly kissed me and told me she loves me? that she's in love with me. she loves me. what am i to do or say when this all feels so surreal?

''so.....'' she starts out.

''so..?''

''do you hate me?''

''no, i don't, princess. i told you, i love you. i'm in love with you.''

i finally let myself break into a smile. it'll be over my dead body if i ever let her feel like i don't love her.

''really?''

''yes, princess, really. although, you might forget all this when you wake up tomorrow.''

''no, i won't. i'll tell you i love you again in the morning.''

''now, how about we go to bed and talk about this tomorrow over breakfast? i'll make you blueberry pancakes.'' i said as i stroked her cheek with my thumb. i pray she won't forget.

''i'd love that. goodnight cheol.''

''goodnight, princess.'' i waited a beat before i added ''i love you.'' but this time, i don't get a response. this time, i hear a light snore from her instead as i smile to myself. but for once, its okay if she doesn't tell me she loves me back because she fell asleep again. for once, my heart is not aching over questioning what her i love yous mean because for once, i know i won't have to tell her i love her just to hear her say she loves me too, because i know she will tell me that herself in the morning when she wakes up.

for once, i finally know what she truly means when she tells me she loves me. and for once, she knows what i truly mean when i tell her i love her.

[hisaame]

ngh fem!reader sucking kuronushi off while he practices playing shamisen... imagine as hes abt to cum he changes from perfect pitch singing to short pants between words... then after he cums hes back to his perfect pitch singing again... ngh

Oh my GOD!??! I LOVE THIS REQUEST???? literally thank you so muhc ??!!? aaaahhh i hope this is okay!!

╰˒ˏˏ ➻„a broken voice, shaky breath,

,, but wont stop playing.” — kuronushi

⧽➽ kuronushi x fem!reader

[nsfw!!] ,, warnings: bj+hj, slight praise, choking and gagging (ON dick, hes not gonna kill u dw), readers prns are she/her!

A beautiful melody could be heard, along witha heavenly voice from no other than—kuronushi. His fingers danced along the strings of the shamisen, occasionally twitching as his voice would occasionally crack. His pretty lips opened to let his voice sing along to the melody of his instrument. But it was extremely hard for him to so so. Specifically because, you were there to distract him.

The belt of his kimono(?) was undone, the obi cord set aside, as well as his hat, settled aside. His wide, knee length pants were down to his midthigh, just like his undergarments. His cock was let free, erect and responsive. Thats what you were working on right now—well, your mouth and hands were.

Kuronushi held the shamisen, trying not to get too distracted. But it was his idea anyway—he had requested you to be there with him, perhaps it would make him practice easier, having your presence here, pleasuring him. It was his fault he was so distracted, how good you were with your lips and tongue, kitten licking his tip before putting the whole length in until the head of his cock nudges the back of your throat, his melodic voice slipping a moan between his lips, but he immediately goes back to singing. The pleasure makes it really, really hard.

But you only decided to make things worse, bobbing your head while you had your hand at the bottom part of his cock, to where your lips couldnt reach, your fingers made up for it. You would let occasional gagging noises, which seemed to distract him even more. He's messed up several times at this point. But he wouldn't dare to tell you to stop—because he wants you to keep going.

"G—good girl...", he'd moan, unable to let himself fully try to ignore you. "Keep going, and ill reward you once I'm done." The way he'd praise you made you clench around nothing, his words just arousing you more, if possible. Your other hand that wasnt around his dick was on his thigh, giving occasional rubs and pats, maybe in hopes to calm him down, or distract him more. Who knows?

At some point he does attempt thrusting his hips towards your face, trying to get himself off in your warm mouth. You're surprised he's managing to do this, despite the fact he looks like he's having a hard time. His voice would occasionally go high pitch, tilting his head back as one of his hands tightened around the long neck of the shamisen. You could barely hear the song he was singing through the various moans and whimpers he lets out.

"fuck, fuck, fuck..." he whines, trying to go back to singing and playing the instrument, unfortunately failing. You guessed he was close by the way his reactions and responses seemed more intense, so your actions sped up. You pulled back slightly, having only the head of his cock in your mouth, sucking on it, before taking him fully again.

That's when you felt his body tense up, feeling warm liquid shoot down your throat, making you groan and gag just a bit, but you made the effort to swallow it all. Well, not everything, since you couldn't, so some dripped down your chin, to which Kuronushis hand went to grab your chin, his thumb wiping his own cum off and sticking his thumb in your mouth then, making you lick in clean—swallowing once more.

Then he pat your head, motioning you to keep going. Well, thats what you took it as. Calming his softening cock down with slow strokes while he finally manages to hold his shamisen correctly, his fingers dancing over the strings and his voice creating the prettiest music. A melody your so fond of hearing from Kuronushi.

You're gonna be waiting a while for that reward he promised you...

♡

[icarusredwings]

Baby Evelyn update

Todays the day.

Todays the day Wade gets to hold Rachel. Despite protests from both sides, Logan worried he would drop the baby, scott a bit too possessive of her, but Jean had already decided it was important that Rachel become accustomed to different looking mutants from a young age.

Kurt had already had his go, being super careful with the darling child as well as Hank and Gambit who immediately got looks from Rouge as if he were a home cooked deep fried pork chop, collard greens and corn bread dinner.

Rachel had cried with each of them. Every single person, only stopping her crying when spoken to and shushed. Well- not Hank. He gave Rachel back instantly, worried he upset her with his appearance.

Logan had already heard about this and was worried. What if Rachel cried too much and it made Wade feel terrible? He knew if Wade dropped her Jean would personally find a way to permanently kill him, so this worried him just as much, deciding to stay close by so he could scoop up the baby if Wade panicked.

From the moment he saw her, Wade gasped, Squealing and flapping his hands in excitment.

"Logan!! That's a baby!" He announced, as if he was blind or something.

Swallowing, Logan gave a look to Jean. "Are you positive about this?"

She nods. "I am. Ive seen in there. He would never purposely hurt a child."

"You've only seen 2 seconds' worth." He scoffed, the fur on the back of his neck rising up as she slowly handed Rachel to him, who automatically supported the back of her neck and brought her close to his body.

For a coulple seconds he just stared at her the way Wade stared at all things little like babies and puppies, kittens, and even baby opossums. He just was pure like that. Sure, he could merc an evil 17 year old or hell, even a 15 year old but a baby? An infant who couldn't even sit up? There's no way in hell. No amount of money could overdrive his fraternal drive to be a good father.

It wasn't until Wade said "Hi baby" and smiled so widely that Rachel started crying, whining and calling for her mama. "Oh no- don't cry. It's okay. Come'ere. It's alright, baby... shh." He says, putting her into his pec as he bounced her and patted her softly.

Jean smiles at him, giving Logan that look of 'I told you so' when Rachel stops crying.

But Logan only blinks. Rachel didn't stop crying because of Wade. She was staring directly at Logan, reaching out a little hand for him.

Hesitantly, he put his finger out, letting Rachel take his finger. Her hand was so tiny... she was practically a spittin image of Jean minus a few features, like that scrunch in her tiny brow. That was definitely Scotts.

Her eyes were a copy and paste of Jean's, her hair a little darker, more copper than the bright red he knew her for.

Seeing this, Wade grins, turning her to see Logan better. The finger grip became tighter as she giggled, coeing nonsense.

"Now don't go pulling a twilight on the baby, Loagie." He teases, though the way Logan stared at the infant made his smile small.

"...Loagie?"

"What's 'pulling a twilight'?" Jean asks, not very concerned in how captivated the man was in the tiny fingers holding him.

"There's this werewolf guy, and he inprints on Bella's baby. It's weird."

It was now that she frowned a bit. "You're imprinting on Rachel?"

Still staring, Logan gave a soft shake of the head. "What? No! He's just messing around...She just.. wont let go.." he says, blinking again. He couldn't stop staring at her. Litsening to every giggle and coe. As if he was supposed to have memories of his own daughters like this... but didn't..

"Ohh, right.. this is your first time getting to know a baby in a long time, isn't it?" Wade asks, knowing that, biologically, his wolvie didn't have any children. None that were alive anyway. So, seeing a baby must be different for him.

"Huh?"

"I was saying-"

"Can... can I hold her?" He asks, glancing to Jean who was curious about what was going on in Logan's head, but nodded. "Why don't you sit with her and Ill go make her a bottle. Don't drop her or ill kill you~" She sings but Logan knows shes serious. He chuckles. "I know you will."

And so he did, sitting on the couch in the lounge room with the small baby, staring at her, his grip a bit too much. Wade whines, leaning over the side of the couch with a sigh. "I was supposed to hold her.."

"You did hold her."

"Well it's my turn again!"

Reaching his hand out to take Rachel back, Logan grabbed his wrist, looking at him like he couldn't relax enough to let Wade's actions slide.

"Ooh.. Wolvie.." He slowly smirks, pulling his hand away, leaning over to kiss his cheek. "You like her!"

"No.. she's just.. fragile." He says.

"But im careful with her. Besides, you don't act like this with Evelyn!"

".. Evelyn can't giggle like this.." He mumbles, letting the baby try to break her teeth in on his finger, a soft fond smile coming to his face.

The man behind him pouts at first, slightly jealous before slowly realizing that neither Logans got to hold baby Laura or even infant Gabby. So this must be a whole new thing for him. Something he never got to do and missed out on.

Before he could mention possibly giving him this experience, Leo came to curl up on the couch next to him, laying against the Wolverine. Lions usually didn't get along with Wolvies in the wild, but this one adored Logan, his personal mentor.

"Hey kid... do you wanna see?"

Shifting to look at the baby, his tail swished softly. "Did you and Ms. Summers have a baby, Mr. Logan?"

"No, they did not."

Before either of them could awnser, Scott had come downstairs, probably looking for his wife and newly born daughter.

"Rachel is my daughter... Shouldn't you be in class?"

Leo whined a bit, flickering his tail a bit annoyed. ".. I don't like gym with Mr. Wagner.. he doesn't play fair." The child complains, simply wanting to nap.

"Kurt plays fair, Leo. You just get discouraged because you dont like that you cant pounce on him when he poofs away. Trust me.. been there." Logan tells him, giving him a nod of his head, gesturing him to get back to class before Kurt had a heart attack for losing a kid.

Wade ruffles the kids' hair, smirking. "Come on, kitty cat... before the cat fight starts." He mutters under his breath, taking Leo back outside to his class, leaving the modern day Jacob and Edward to fight over their red headed Bella, who was still in the kitchen, unaware of the stare down currently happening.

"...She's beautiful." It's Logan who looks away first, knowing this wasn't his child to defend. As much as he felt it in his bones, there was no reason to protect her from invisible danger.

"Just like her mother." The headmaster mumbles, reaching for her.

Reluctantly, Logan finally gave her up, prying Rachels small hand off his pointer finger.

Watching how Scott took her and held her close made him wonder..

"...Slim."

"What is it, Logan?"

For a moment, He was quiet, trying to think of how to say it. "...You didn't get to raise Nathan... right?"

"No.. what does that have to do with anything?"

"So.. this is your first baby."

"Yeah.. she cries a lot at night, but.. shes my everything.."

Logan snickers. "Yeah.. I can tell. You look like shit."

"Oh wow, thanks...wait why do you ask?"

".... I didn't get to raise Laura.. or Gabby... Or.. really any of them.."

At first, Scott wanted to ask what that has to do with him, what do you want me to do about it? But just sighed, finally letting himself drop the 'I know what i'm doing, im the leader' confidence act.

"I won't lie.. It's rough.. I don't have any baby pictures of him. I dont even know what he got for his 5th birthday. Or his 18th. I don't.... I don't know anything about my own son.. and it's not like he visits.. at least you always know where yours are.." He admits.

Logan frowns, thinking about this. He hated how he felt so similarly. He didn't even know Laura until recently. Not as a person. He didn't even know her favorite color. But now he knew everything. Her favorite foods, what movies she liked, her fashion sense, who she's crushed on, who she currently is crushing on. And he was grateful that she trusted him enough to tell him all these things... so he could only imagine what it would be like if she wasn't in town, let alone in the same decade as him.

"...I think Wade wants a baby.."

Scott turned, giving him a 'wtf' glance and brow scrunch that made Logan chuckle. Yup.. Rachel was definitely Scottys..

"That's... God do I need to put him in Gambits sex ed class?"

He snorted, laughing. It made his face soften, looking at him with a fondess that was old and dried up. Only becoming watered very briefly once every couple of months.

"Maybe! Heh.. no but... really. And.. its not like I would mind but-" he took a deep breath, grabbing at the old sunwashed jeans. "Im scared.."

"What?" Theres that scrunch again.

"You're the Wolverine.. you don't GET scared.."

"I know.. but I am. What if I... what if I mess up? What if.. I dont know. What if Im the worst dad ever? I've never raised a baby before.. not like this." Logan spits out, groaning as his hand goes to his face, leaning forward.

"Psh.. you really are nothing like him are you?"

"What?"

"The other Logan- My.. Logan.. would never even worry about that. Let alone talk to ME about it."

"Why?"

"Because I'd tell you that you're a massive moron."

Logan gives him a side eyed glare. "Wow... thanks.. feel so much better now.."

Scott smirks. "No. Look- Do you know how many times Gabrielle ends up in my office?"

"Yes. I know. She has a biting problem. We are working on it-" He groans, leaning back into the sofa.

"Yes but you KNOW those things... I don't even know WHERE my son is. And you know exactly whos room shes in right now."

"Poor, Ro.."

"Poor Gabrielle." Scott mumbles. "My point is.. you've always been... aware... noticeable.. of things that other people aren't. And I think... I think you would be a great dad. Sure, you get paid in dirty diapers and shitty sleep but.. its worth it."

The two smile at the baby, who was still coeing up a storm, gabbing and giggling.

"Shes very vocal for such a young age.."

"See? I didn't even realize.." He trails off before sighing and standing with a grunt. "Gotta go find mommy. Don't we, my sunshine?" He coes back, nuzzling the tiny thing with his nose. "Whew! And maybe change you... well.. Bye Logan.."

"Bye Cyk...Bye Rachel." He says, watching him walk off as he started humming,

Logan sees as he meets up with Jean, taking the bottle and leaning against her, kissing her head and little rachel kicking her feet, excited to see her mother.

A deep sigh comes from him, getting up as he goes to find Wade. Okay.. okay, you can do this its only a couple of words. It won't be hard. And they're already married so what was the big deal? Nothing to worry about now.

"Wade-" He enters the basketball court.

"I wanna breed you."

The court goes silent, children staring and some compemtly dropping their basketballs. Even Kurt drops from the place he was hanging, landing on his head in shock. "Wha!?- YEowuch!"

"...Peanut...This is a class..."

[guitarstringed-scars]

on stage- s. hinata

act two, scene four: opening night and final bows

masterlist

the morning passes quickly. you spend it pacing back and forth in your apartment, changing your outfit 6 times, and freaking out. you’ve done this before, directed a play. this is what you want to do for the rest of your life, but it feels so nerve wracking every time. sure you told shoyo that you weren’t nervous, he doesn’t need to know anyway. it’ll only make him nervous, and he needs to give the performance of a lifetime tonight.

finally its 1:00, and you head out of the apartment. you want to get there early to make sure the house is all clean, and ready for however many people come tonight. the programs have been delivered and sit on the front desk of the theater building. you grab the box and start to unpack them. on the front cover, it reads ‘directed by y/n l/n’ and you can’t help but smile. directly under it there is ‘written by keiji akaashi’. you feel proud of your friends and all of the hard work they dedicate to this, just to help you out. kozume who spends late nights setting up lights. shimizu who learned how to work the sound for you. hitoka who adds on costumes for your plays on top of her mountain of items to make for her studies. you also feel grateful for koutaro who even though you’ll never let him in one of your productions, he continues to be your biggest cheerleader, and toru who always puts his heart into every performance.

you feel especially grateful for shoyo, who has quickly become a shining light in this production. even if you barely spoke for 3 weeks, the rest of the time he was the kindest, most enthusiastic, excited person on the cast. you are snapped out of your thoughts by hitoka and shimizu entering the building.

“happy opening night!” hitoka cheers, bounding over to you and tackling you in a hug. “we did it!”

“don’t jinx it! we haven’t even opened yet!” you say, quickly shutting her down.

“well everything you and me can do is done, it’s on everyone else now!” she continues celebrating.

shimizu laughs and leaves to set up for sound. kenma shows up soon after.

“you’ll be in the booth tonight, right?” he asks you.

“yup! i’ll probably show up a bit after show start.” you say. he nods and heads into the booth.

you and hitoka continue setting up the lobby for the next half hour as the cast starts shuffling in. you greet everyone, and hitoka heads down to the costume closet.

shoyo shows up at exactly 2. he rushes in, and half hazardly shoots you a distracted nod. just as soon as he’s there, he’s gone in the costume shop without a hello.

you spend the next 4 hours doing busy work, trying to distract yourself from the show, and rushing around when you bump into shoyo.

he’s in his costume, and looks absolutely perfect. only downside is he isn’t wearing his stage makeup.

“oh shoot, i completely forgot i said i’d do your makeup, come on shoyo!” you grab his hand and drag him to the dressing room. it’s emptied out by this point, just soft music playing off of a speaker in the corner. shoyo plops down in a chair as you grab some makeup. as you pat the foundation into his skin, he finally begins to speak.

“i’m nervous.” he says.

“i know. you’ve been quiet today.”

he laughs a bit as you brush his face with powder.

“i don’t want to mess this up.” he says.

“and like i keep saying, you wont.”

he goes quiet again, looking at his reflection from the corner of his eye.

“this makeup makes me look funny.” he says, giggling a bit.

“thats the point.” you say, focusing on darkening his eyebrows.

“really?” he asks.

“no, not really. it just is to make your expressions easier to read from the audience.”

“hm.” he mumbles as you pick up the lipstick. it’s about the same color as his lips now. as you open the cap, he speaks again. “can i kiss you before you put it on?” he asks. you look up from focusing on the lipstick. you giggle a bit before applying the lipstick on him. he frowns slightly.

as you finish up his makeup he stands up to leave. you turn his face before he can stand up, and give him a quick kiss on the cheek.

“break a leg!” you shout, rushing out of the room. you don’t look back, but if you did, you would’ve seen a flustered shoyo standing in shock.

you rush to the lobby, greeting audience members as they enter. you cheerfully hand them programs up until 10 minutes until show time. you hand off your stack of programs to hitoka and rush back stage.

“PLACES” you shout, and then the rushing around intensifies as actors swarm backstage. you rush to the lighting booth, slumping down in the seat next to kenma.

“good job.” he whispers, patting your shoulder as he hands you a headset. you take a breath.

you completely black out during the show. the last two hours are a blank space in your mind. there are two things you know.

one, it was amazing

and

two, you need to get on stage and address the audience.

so number two is exactly what you do. being a director, you aren’t really used to being on stage. so when the hot lights hit your face, you feel the nerves kick in.

“hi, my name is y/n l/n and i directed this play. i wanted to thank you all for coming and supporting university theater, and i also want to recognize the hard work for our cast and crew, so please give them another round of applause!” the audience erupts into cheers. “i hope you find the time to come back tomorrow, or tell your friends and family to attend. thank you again!” you smile and quickly rush off the stage as the audience begins to file out. you quickly rush through the back doors where you are greeted by the cast. toru tackles you in a hug before running off to the lobby with the others. you look out for a head of red hair, but find nothing, so you head to the lobby as well.

as you make it to the lobby, you spot all of your friends. shimizu and kozume both look exausted, hitoka and koutaro are both excitedly chatting about the costumes, and toru looks especially proud of how opening night went. as you approach, you are swept into a suffocating hug from koutaro.

“great stuff y/n! i hope you let me in the next one!” he speaks, a little too loudly for the enclosed space.

“in your dreams bo.” you say, laughing into his shoulder. “if you two are tired, you should head home. i can clean up here tonight, since we’ve got to do it all again tomorrow.” you address shimizu and kozume. shimizu falls into your arms and hugs you.

“y/n, you are the best.” she says as the two of them head off. ”lets all go find shoyo!” toru says, leading the group to the large gathering of boys volleyball players. in the center is the man himself. he smiles and laughs with the others and you feel your heart pang. he notices you quickly, and tackles you in a hug.

“you were incredible.” you mumble into his chest. he says nothing, but you can feel his smile grow against your face.

“i brought these for you.” he says, pulling away from the hug. from his bag he pulls out a slightly smushed bouquet of your favorite flowers. “thats why i was so rushed getting here today, because i was afraid you’d catch on to the surprise.”

you just smile and hug him again.

“i don’t want this show to be over!” he complains.

“hey, we have another show tomorrow, and a date on sunday, you aren’t getting rid of me that easily.” you say.

and you feel perfectly comfortable.

a/n: IT'S OVER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! there is a possibility of bonus stuff but i need a break from this! my first ever fic is done! this may be some of my worst writing ever, but that is okay because it's done, and i love it and i love shoyo. OKAY YAY BYE READ MY OTHER STUFF!

[useless19]

Do you think Bowser has hinted at marriage once in awhile randomly or do you think he's chilled out about rushing things finally. Sure he was pretty dead set on marrying the Princess not only from his own interests and political benefits but prehaps abandonment issues caused him to see marriage as mostly a way to insure himself they wont leave him since it a final say writen on papers? (divorce exist but if you got unspoken issues the smaller details are usually ignored)

Honestly I've always been fascinated by peoples take on Bowsers possible attachment or abandonment issues

He absolutely has.

"Or I could just lock you in the dungeon when it's time for you to go back," Bowser said. He laughed when Luigi started to protest. "I know, I know. No kidnapping. It was a joke." -Bowser, in the middle of planning Luigi's kidnapping.

I imagine a lot of the earlier proposals got passed off with a similar 'I'm joking' sort of thing. But because Luigi's still got fairly low self-esteem, he takes Bowser's word when he brushes off Luigi's bemusement with a 'I'm not being serious' or the like whenever Luigi comments on a pretty place and Bowser hints that it might be a good place to have a wedding.

Ultimately, Days!Bowser had a (at his best) distant dad, a mum who died when he was barely old enough to remember her but not young enough to have not remembered her at all, and some relatives who couldn't be around very often for their own safety. And then he only reinforced that by kidnapping people. So yes, he sort of thinks that marriage will make someone stick around (and it did during the main plot!).

(I considered going for a Bowser who lost both his parents at a terribly young age (playing into the fact that some of the Yoshi games refer to him as King Bowser, even though he's a pretty young kid), but a Bowser who has literally never been accountable to anyone is going to be different to the Bowser I was putting together for Day 7/9.)

Anyway, this means it comes as a shock the first time Bowser goes all out on a proposal. Luigi is not a fan of surprises or being the center of attention, and Bowser's not going to half-arse something as important as a proposal. It'll be loud, there'll be a crowd, and Luigi's going to have the frightful time of figuring out how to say 'no' without Bowser assuming that's the end of the relationship. (He doesn't do great).

Luigi escapes the resulting fiery chaos and retreats to his room. He feels awful and has some miserable thoughts on whether or not this relationship is viable if they keep having stuff like this happen. (It's not been that much that often, Luigi's just spiralling here). He gets ready for bed automatically, but doesn't get any sleep.

And trying to figure this out turned into just writing fic... It's first draft, but here you go.

Luigi yelped when his bedroom door slammed open. Bowser stomped in, only to stop short when he noticed Luigi.

"Knock, please," Luigi said.

"You haven't escaped yet?" Bowser said.

Luigi clutched the heavy book he'd been trying to use to send him off to sleep. "Do I have to escape?" he asked carefully.

"Not yet," Bowser said. He began to pace around Luigi's room.

Luigi put the book aside and laced his fingers together. It was hard to even know where to start. How were you supposed to tell your partner that you weren't ready for marriage when they so obviously were?

"I'm sorry I messed things up," Luigi said.

"You should be," Bowser snapped.

Luigi flinched. Bowser stopped pacing and took a deep breath.

"I'm furious," Bowser said on the out breath.

"I'm sorry, I -"

"You said you wouldn't leave without telling me why," Bowser said, looming over Luigi.

"Do you want me to leave?" Luigi asked.

"What? No!"

Luigi patted the bed next to him. Bowser huffed. Instead of sitting next to Luigi on the mattress as Luigi had intended, Bowser slumped to the floor and leant his head on his folded arms on the bed.

"I don't want to leave," Luigi said.

"Then why didn't you say yes?" Bowser asked, a note of hurt in his voice.

"Because I don't want to get married yet," Luigi said. "It's a lot to say yes to. It's a huge decision."

"Figures I managed to bag the one mushroom person afraid of commitment," Bowser grumbled. "What do you think a relationship is except a precursor to marriage?"

Luigi hadn't considered it like that. "I don't know. There's still a lot we haven't talked about with... us and everything it entails."

"The proposal can be a surprise but the engagement shouldn't be," Bowser said.

Luigi blinked in surprise. "Exactly. Where did you hear that?"

"Can't remember." Bowser shrugged, knocking Luigi off balance.

Luigi lifted his hand to put it on Bowser's arm then hesitated. Would his touch even be welcome right now? When he dropped his arm, he caught sight of Bowser's red eye watching him.

"Hate me so much you can't stand the thought of touching me?"

"No." Luigi braced himself. "Do you hate me?"

Bowser closed his eyes. "I asked you to marry me a few hours ago, what do you think?"

"I think a lot of people would hate someone for saying no."

Bowser huffed and reached out to pat Luigi's leg. If he wanted to hurt Luigi, it would have been so easy, but he didn't. Luigi reached forward and threaded his fingers through Bowser's coarse hair. Something he hadn't realised was tense relaxed as Bowser gave a rumble of contentment.

"Was it just a no?" Bowser asked. "Or was it a not now? Because it felt like the former, but you waffled a lot before you got there."

"That's it exactly," Luigi said, relieved beyond measure at finally getting the right words. "I don't want to get married now, but I might change my mind in the future."

The lateness of the hour hit Luigi and he was unable to stifle his yawn. It must have been gone midnight by now. Tomorrow was looking better than it had been, but too little sleep wouldn't help anyone.

"We should probably try to get some sleep," Luigi said, untangling his fingers from Bowser's hair with a pang of disappointment. "Would you stay with me, tonight?" he blurted out before he could wimp out of asking for what he wanted again.

"In here?" Bowser waved at Luigi's quite-big-for-Luigi-but-small-for-Bowser bed.

"If that's okay?"

Bowser crawled onto the bed. There really wasn't much room for Luigi, but he'd spent enough time in too-narrow or too-short beds on adventures that he could probably doze off. Bowser curled his hand around Luigi's body. Luigi put his hand over Bowser's finger.

Heavy, absurdly long breaths were becoming a welcome sound to drift off to. Luigi snuggle down, enjoying the extra warmth a fire-breathing Koopa added.

"How long will it take before you're ready?" Bowser asked in a tone that he'd probably meant to be casual but missed by miles.

How long did it usually take before people were comfortable taking the next step in a relationship like this? Luigi had known people with whirlwind engagements who would have had a kid already on the way at this point, and others who had been together more than five years before they even hinted at marriage.

And it didn't matter how other people did it, Luigi had to figure out what worked for Luigi.

"I don't know," Luigi said. He clutched Bowser's fingers. "If I try to pick a date, then I don't know if I'll be ready by then and the extra anxiety over whether or not I'll be ready by then will probably just make it take longer. And I don't think you'll do very well with a specific date to get your hopes up for."

Bowser grumbled unhappily, but didn't disagree. Luigi rubbed Bowser's claw with his thumb and was relieved when Bowser gave him a gentle squeeze in return.

"I can promise that when I'm ready, you'll be the second person to know," Luigi said.

"After Mario?" Bowser said, disgruntled.

"After me," said Luigi.

Bowser laughed sleepily.

[lolotheparagon]

Scarecrow: In case we ever get separated in Gotham and the need for radio communication arises, Ive given all of your sisters codenames to protect your identities from anyone hacking into our channel. Sweetie Belle, I dub you Cortisol.

Sweetie Belle: AWESOME!! WHAT A COOL NAME!

(A week later, whilst the ponies are being babysat by Barbara Gordon)

Barbara: Okay, guys. Its getting late, time to go home. I'll call your dad to pick you up. Do you wanna talk to him, Sweetie?

Sweetie Belle: Sure! Oh, Babs? Make sure to use all our codenames, just in case.

Barbara: He's given you guys codenames?

Sweetie Belle: Yeah! In case of emergencies! I'm Corty-sol!

Barbara: You mean Cortisol?

Sweetie Belle: Yeah! What does that mean, anyway?

Barbara: Its a chemical that manages someone's stress

Sweetie Belle: (saddened) Oh.

(Cut to back home)

Sweetie Belle: (teary eyed) D-DAD! WHY DID YOU NAME ME CORTY-SOL?!

Scarecrow: Sweetie, Ive named all of your sisters after my fave chemicals: Norepinephrine, Cholestrol, Hydrogen Sulfide. Yours is no different.

Sweetie Belle: B-BUT BABS TOLD ME CORTY-SOL IS A CHEMICAL ABOUT STRESS! A-AM I STRESSFUL? IS THAT WHY YOU GAVE ME THAT CODENAME?? AM I ANNOYING.

Scarecrow: No, Sweetie, its nothing personal. I merely thought it would be a discreet name that is also an apt reference to your sickeningly sweet disposition

(Sweetie Belle starts crying, Scarecrow cringes and tries to calm her down)

Scarecrow: Okay, Okay, I'm sorry. That was cruel of me. It wont happen again

Sweetie Belle: (sniffles) Okay

Scarecrow: How about you come up with your own codename? Would that help?

Sweetie Belle: (dries tears) Yeah.

Scarecrow: Proceed then.

Sweetie Belle: Hmmm.. Oh, how about Angel Cookie?

Scarecrow: ...The whole point of codenames is to conceal identities, not showcase them

Sweetie Belle: PLEASE DAD!! I PROMISE ILL BE SUPER CAREFUL WHEN I USE THE WALKIE TALKIE! ILL EVEN DO A DIFFERENT VOICE TO THROW PEOPLE OFF!

Scarecrow: (sighs) Alright. I'll change it once I get on the computer

Sweetie Belle: (hugs Scarecrow tightly) YAY! Thank you, Dad!

(As Crow pats her head, the other ponies stop by)

Pinkie Pie: Hey, whats going on?

Sweetie Belle: Dad let me choose my own codename for our radio channel!

Scootaloo: Aw, no fair! I want to pick my own codename!

Starsong: Yeah, me too!

Rainbow Dash: Me three!

Toola Roola: Can I pick one please?

(All 7 ponies talk over each other to a gradually overwhelmed Scarecrow)

Scarecrow: Children, please! You cant all have new codenames!

Ponies: (still talking over each other)

Scarecrow: (raises his voice) GIRLS! (Normal voice) Discuss your choices amongst yourselves and let me know the results once you are done.

(10 minutes later, the poneis are finished talking and break their huddle to talk to their father, leaning back into the sofa, steadily twiddling his fingers)

Scarecrow: So what have you all chosen?

Pinkie Pie: I want my code name to be MissPink

Rainbow Dash: Cashmere!

Starsong: Pirouette, hehe after my favourite ballet move!

Scootaloo: GameLord!

Toola Roola: I want to be Polka Dot!

Cheerilee: Maccoby!

(Scarecrow stops and does a double take at Cheerilee, surprised at her obscure answer)

Scarecrow: Who?

Cheerilee: Yknow, after Eleanor Maccoby? The famous doctor? All women who have made great accomplishments in the field of psychology deserve some recognition!

Scarecrow: Impressive. You’re learning such complex terms and studies faster than I thought. I’m so proud of you, my little dictionary. (Ruffles Cheerillee’s head)

Cheerilee: (giggles)

Starsong: Well, what about ours? Are they good enough?

Scarecrow: (leans back and ponders to himself as the ponies anticipatedly stare up at him)

Hmmm, some of them are more transparent, which defeats the purpose of a code name but since you all like these names so much, I think we can work with that

Ponies: (all cheer excitedly as Crow brings up his laptop and inputs each of the new codenames)

Scarecrow: (to himself) Im going to need more firewalls

[mylarena]

no but @appleciderp this has so much potential. soaps mother being a huge fan of ghosts content and for whatever fucking reason she is dead set on the two of them being perfect for each other, soulmates, destined, etc etc,,, soap is so fucking done with it and begs her to stop but she just wont quit. he doesnt know how she found this man or why shes so fucking obsessed with his content, but hes the one suffering from it. what kind of name is Ghost anyways??? man doesnt even show his face- its always just his fucking hands and arms, or the occasional shot of his body. (which soap does find appealing, not that he'd ever let his mother know that)

now. there COULD be the decision to email ghost and try and clear the air a bit. BUT i think its much funnier if soaps mother runs into ghost at a fucking grocery store or something and recognizes his voice or his gloves. and then she just starts talking about how lovely her son is and how hes a 'nice young man' and 'very very single.' and ghost is just very awkwardly standing there and he finds it a little bit amusing that this tiny scottish lady is trying to set him up with her son immediately after meeting him. he's said barely 5 words the entire time. however, she does manage to weasel the fact that he isnt seeing anyone out of him by the sheer force of catching him off guard.

then soap himself walks into the aisle and is like "ma whats taking so long?" and he looks at them. and at ghost. his immediate thought is wow hes pretty. then his mother pulls him over and introduces him to ghost. and ghost just raises an eyebrow at him. and soap is like. what the fuck is going on? and his mom goes "its ghost :)" and soaps face just falls into dread, embarrassment, and sheer disbelief. he puts his head into his hands and groans.

"ma, ye cannae be serious-"

but she just pats him on the back and goes to finish her shopping. and soap and ghost are left there. and ghost is the first one to speak and he just goes. "...so, you punched an officer and locked him in his car?" and soap sputters because for fucks sake why was she telling him about that and ghost just huffs in amusement.

soap apologizes profusely but they end up making conversation but right before ghost leaves he gives soap his phone number and then walks away, leaving soap to stare at the paper in his hand and turn red as he processes what the fuck just happened.

[ask-jamtheimp]

Day 5 of Regressuary:

Theme: Playmates

Characters: Jam and @theogclownboy Zeek, Ellie, and Toby

Fandom: Helluva Boss

Summary: Based on a rp I did with Bonez before with a few changes to flow better with the fic! Toby notices how lonely Jam has been during regression and decides to introduce him to a new playmate Zeek! Jam is nervous and less than thrilled to meet his future best friend and sibling figure

Authors Note: This takes place before Jam ever met Zeek and is their first meeting. I'm thinking of making this a 3 part thing since theres a lot to try to fit in from the rp and it just makes more sense like that. I also changed my formatting a bit, I'm just going to color code character dialogue and I wont put the narration in italics to make it faster and easier on myself. As per usual my writing is a bit rusty and bad since I haven't written like this since 2020. I also don't proofread so sorry for any writing mistakes made. It just helps me save time.

"Kiddo please. I just need you to put your shoes on so we can go. He's a very nice kid I promise!" Toby said. He was knelt down in front of a very pouty Jam who currently refused to put his shoes on to go meet his new playmate. "I don't wanna go! I wanna stay hewe! Don't wanna mee him..." He said while pouting and jingling his tail angrily at his caregiver. Toby sighed, he had been trying to convince Jam to go for about 15 minutes now....Although he had a simple idea, one he knew Jam couldn't refuse. "Hey buddy, how about the whole time there I hold you okay? And if your good we can get a sweet treat after hmm? What do you say?" Jam stopped whining for a bit now thinking on the matter before nodding. He did want a little snack. And he did like being held by Toby, he was very fluffy after all! "M'okay..." He mumbled as he sat down long enough for Toby to help him tie his shoes. Afterwards he lifted Jam up, double checked his agere and diaper bag to make sure he had everything and headed over to Ellie's house.

To the polar opposite of Jam, Zeek was actually quite excited to meet his new playmate! Right now though he was currently sitting in his playpen he had all of his toys set up for his new friend! When the doorbell ringed Ellie walked over opening it, Toby had put Jam on the ground to stand on his own but just held onto his hand for reassurance. "Oh hello Toby! And I assume this is your little one yes?" Ellie said as she looked at Jam. Jam didn't regress in front of people too much and was very used to hiding it so he simply took his face out from Toby's fluff and mumbled: "N-nice t' meetcha ma'am..". He held out his hand to shake hers in order to cover up the fact he was regressed. He did have his tells though, especially his slurred and clumsy speech. Ellie was surprised to say the least and smiled gently as she bent down slightly to be eye to eye with him. She gently shook his hand and cooed anyways. "Aw such a polite boy! Im Ms. Ellie little one!" Jams cheeks flushed as she called him little one. He was very much not used to even other people calling him little names besides Toby. He was very embarrassed. "M-ma'am m' not lil..." He mumbled even quieter now avoiding eye contact as well. Ellie very much wasn't buying that and she patted the top of his head. "Oh my mistake! You are a very big boy!" Jam now fumbling at any attempt to make any cohesive words just buried his face into Toby's fluff. The wolf patted Jam's head and led the two inside to sit down.

The whole time Jam hadn't moved an inch off of Toby lap, he was so bored listening to the adults talk and he had exhausted everything in Toby's caregiver bag. All he had was his plushie Nini, to keep him busy now. Unless...? Jam crawled off of Toby's lap who didn't seem to notice much and walked over to the playpen, Zeek was in it playing with some blocks inside, the minute he saw Jam he smiled and waved. Jam was...apprehensive. He seemed nice enough but what if he was gonna be mean like other kids were? Maybe he was just being nice now just to get bullied later? Jam's spiral was interrupted when Zeek stood up and handed him a block over the playpen fence. "Pway!' He said excitedly. Jam looked a bit confused and hesitant before taking the block from him and sitting outside the playpen gate. He still wasn't too sure about actually going inside with Zeek. After a very boring 5 minutes of play with just one block Jam finally gained the courage to actually sit inside the playpen with Zeek. It took him a lot of fiddling around with the lock but he finally found his way in. If there was one thing, Jam was a smart baby. A little too smart if you ask Toby, he had even figured out how to climb out of his crib. so no baby lock stood in his way. Jam sat near the blocks but kept his distance from Zeek, although when Zeek started crawling closer Jam's tail instantly jingled defensively like a rattlesnakes, Zeek didn't get the hint though, he just thought it was fun his new friend was covered in bells! Zeek grabbed onto Jam's tail and shook it around to hear more of the jingling sound it made. Unfourtunatley this was enough to totally set Jam off as he screamed "NO!" at the top of his lungs and snatched his tail away from Zeek who was just as surprised as he was at the sudden switch before crying. Jam felt his face heat up. both caregivers rushed over to check on all the commotion once they heard Jam scream. "Jam what happened? Whats going on? My are you two boys alright?" Ellie asked as she quickly picked up Zeek and tried to soothe him.

Jam felt like he ruined everything. He barley understood why he did that he was just scared. His own tears started rolling down his face as Toby picked him up, he gave a nod to Ellie and took him to the kitchen to talk to him one on one. Would this playmate thing really work out?

TO BE CONTINUED ON DAY 6....

Hope you enjoyed!

[half-truths-and-hyperbole-louk]

Louk's Bad Batch rewatch part 15 !!! AND part 16 !!!

TWO IN ONE WHAT these eps are kinda short ?? or my thoughts are idk ?? so I put them both together on one post 😬 but anyway let's go batcherssss 🤟

The Bad Batch 1x11

Crosshair you little gremlin 💕

ELENI AND HOWZER 🥺😭🥰👑

can someone please explain to me why Orn Free Taa has extra lekku, weird tiny ears and three fingers instead of four ??? mans looks like a different species 👀

"They fought for us and they have earned our respect" settle down Cham we all know you're gonna change your mind in 5 minutes hush

HERA AND CHOPPER MY BELOVEDS 💕💕💕

"uncle Gobi" 🥺

Hera watching the birds in the sky 🤲 following them with her hands 🥺

Howzer you absolute king 👑

Eleni and Gobi scheming together hehehe

I just know Eleni is SO proud of Hera 🥲 she's so much like her mom fr

"my hope is that you won't ever have to live a life like mine" ~ General Cham Syndulla ... meet General Hera Syndulla

"no take offs or landings" this is actually so adorable tho

Wrecker carrying all the weapons himself like he's only doing one trip with the groceries from the car to the house hehehe

Hera asks about the Marauder and Omega's like 'this beauty' *pat pat*

I wanna see Hunter's face watching Hera and Omega together 🥺

they're besties forever 💕

it's Hera's dream to live on a starship 😭

lmao could've had a bad batch reunion rn but Crosshair had other plans

Omega: ☝"did you know flying is about a feeling?" Tech: I have no idea what this means

Howzer being the only one to question imprisoning a child 😭

Eleni didn't even wait for the speeder to stop moving before jumping out 💅

"attempted assassination of Orn Free Taa" ??? attempted ?? did he not just die ???

The Bad Batch 1x12

"how unfortunate for your people to see your fall" LMAO Rampart I've seen s2 👀

Howzer immediately plotting to save Hera 💕

Hera and Chopper are absolute menaces and I respect them both for it

Gonky being part of the bad batch family 🤲

"you gave her our comm channel?" ~ Hunter is so done pls 😂

Tech: "children often overreact" Omega: "no we don't" YES OMEGA 🙌👑 she is so passionate and caring and loving and loyal I genuinely feel so proud of her 💕

Omega: "isn't that what soldiers do" Hunter: 😯

Wrecker @ Chopper: "what's his problem" how long do you have buddy?

Hera asking them all so desperately to save her family 😭😭😭 she has always cared so deeply

y'all I'm confused did Orn Free Taa actually survive that shot to the head? I feel like Rampart has no reason to lie about it?

they all peeking with their binoculars

Hunter's little 'let's move' gesture 🥰

Hunter hearing the droid and his sneak attack just dropping down on it 👌 bro how did you get up there so fast ??

knife knife knife knife knife knife knife kni-

Tech: "oh good" lolol

Wrecker's face when Hunter says Crosshair knows they're there 😭

Omega grabbing Hera's hand 🤲

Echo's face explaining to Hera why they're after Cham 😭😭

"I don't care about any of that, I just want my parents back" she's just a little kid in the middle of a war she doesn't understand 💔 this is too real and absolutely heartbreaking

"She's trying to save her family Hunter. I'd do the same for you" you tell him Omega 💪👑

Howzer and Crosshair staring at each other.....

Chopper and Hera having a lil chat 🥺

Omega: "he's my brother, they all are" Hera: "you're lucky" she really is 🥺

Howzer is trying so hard to protect Hera even with Cham hating on him and refusing to help save his own daughter 🙃

Omega and Hera came up with a strategic plan and now Hunter's on board 🥰

Tech is worried about them going by themselves 🥲

Echo getting caught scaling the wall: "a little help?" lmaooo

AND Hunter's little "hey" to distract the reg before pulling Echo up 💀

"I won't tell if you wont" lmao I love these two together 💕

Omega: "don't shoot down our shuttle" Tech: "wait what shuttle?!" ~ how many heart attacks does Omega want to give Tech this episode 😂

Hera blowing up an imperial refinery........ 👀

Tech: 'Omega what was that explosion?!?! Omega: hehe don't worry about it 💀

Omega: "do some damage Wrecker" Wrecker: "that I can do!" Wrecker happy makes me happy 🥰

THE TECH TURN THE TECH TURN THR TECH TURN THE RECH TUENCJDIWJXNW

Hunter telling Cham and Gobi that Hera hired them 💀

Hera: "we're getting the hang of this" Tech: "yes your dangerous and uncontrolled manoeuvring is as confusing to them as it is to us 🙂" he is so far past done with them oml 😂

Howzer 💕💕💕💕💕💕

Hunter looking back at him before they leave 😭

Howzer's whole speech in this scene 😭😭😭 it reminds me of Fives giving his pep talk to the cadets 🥲

Hunter sensing Crosshair??? and what if I never stop crying ??

my heart is breaking for Howzer I love him so bad 💔

Wrecker Omega high five 🥺

Tech teaching Hera and Omega 🤲💕

"Tech showed me how to scramble a ships signature" TECH TAUGHT HERA ONE SKILL THAT SAVED HER ASS A MILLION TIMES 😭

"keep an eye on your brothers, they need it" ~ Hera, the wisest person in the show fr

...did Chopper just say "Chopper out"

Crosshair has too many expressions to count this last scene, asking to hunt the batch down... my theory is he never had his chip removed but that venator engine fried it and it slowly stops working... we know that a lot of the chips are slowly starting to stop working in other clones, maybe its the same for Crosshair ?? so he's feeling a lot of confusion at hunting them down ?? maybe idk lol

two more down!!! my internet is still shocking and it's taking me like an hour to watch each ep bc of all the buffering 🥲 but anywayyy thank yalls for joining 💕💕💕

[thal-ent]

(Jeanne belongs to @corneille-but-not-the-author , Balzac to @soupedepates , Swan to @noa-de-cajou and Serena to @hel-phoenyx )

There's a letter that stays unopen on his desk.

He knows who it's from, the seal of the oh so important Ordinn family stamped on the wax keeping it closed. He doesn't know why it's here, and none of his friends dared to ask why his good eye suddenly turned dark when faced with the familiar handwriting.

"To Joël Auguste Maxime Ordinn", followed by the adress of his humble potion shop. He doesn't know how she got that adress, why she suddenly decided to contact him again after decades. Why the use of names he didn't tell anyone after leaving the Republic. He does know he's looking at that letter like a mad man and his good arm is hurting from how much he's crushing it in his metal one.

He take the fine letter opener he bought years ago and cuts the top of the enveloppe, has half a mind to hope that if she contacts him, it better be because someone died.

"My dear and only son".

He wants to puke. The letter is put back on the desk with force and he thinks the sound makes Selena jumps, somewhere behind him. The scent of her perfume is still on everything she touches, even a simple letter destined to a son she didn't even look in the eyes when she told him to go. The dear is a bold lie that she has to know he wont believe in.

"I hope this letter finds you well. I am truly sorry for never contacting you sooner, hoever there is something you must know. Your father is on his death bed, afflicted by the greatest sickness of all that is age."

He stiffles a dry laugh. So, finally, his father is about to die. Maybe he's being vindicative in hoping that man is suffering, his gray hair the only touch of color left on his too old body. He was already too old when he had Joël, anyways. Swan looks at him weirdly, like they know that expression and they don't like it. But Swan also knows when it's best they stay silent, and now is one of those moments.

"He wishes to see you one last time, before his-"

He doesn't finish reading any more than that, barely sees the "best regards, your mother" at the end of the page as the dagger he found a lifetime ago in a palace sets fire to the paper.

Balzac comes to him, when the last of the ink is gone, and Joël simply sighs in relief. He softly pats the head of the bialakorn, his fur soothing the ache as Jeanne asks without a word how he's feeling. He simply smiles to her and grabs his cane, lighter than he was in years.

[chiiyuuvv]

ACADEMIC RIVALS - YUJUN °

• PAIRING — yujun x reader

• GENRE — enemies to lovers, academic enemies to lovers (hence the name ^^), tiny bit of angst.. yeah no I think that's it

• WORD COUNT — 1k

• AUTHORS NOTE — was supposed to post this earlier </3 (request on wattpad)

MASTERLIST!

"Congratulations!!" you bow at the compliments, kissing the golden trophy that you earned with very, very hard work. The ceremony just finished, so you walk backstage, letting out a scream of joy.

"Probably cheated," you cock your head to the voice, watching a blonde headed boy eye you from across the room. "Probably just jealous," you answer back, inching towards the boy.

Jung Yujun. Your rivial. Well, only your rival when it comes to academics. You dont talk when you're not in school. It all started when yujun cheated during the first grade spelling bee. You were so close to winning, the second to last person standing when you got the word "favorite."

Maybe it was the anticipation, the excitement to get the spelling bee over with when your mind went blank.

"F.. a.. v.."

There was a boy standing next to you, and he could tell you were struggling. He tapped your shoulder, mouthing a letter to help you out. You had grown quite fond of this boy, you would even say you had a small crush on him. So of course you trusted him.

"F, a, v, r, o, i, t, e." You spelt out each word with confidence, a small smile on your face when you hear a snicker. And another, and another, until the whole class was laughing. You eyes widen with terror as you watch your teacher shake her head, asking the boy next to you the same question and him answering it perfectly.

He had lied to you, and now he was the winner. The rest was history; you lashed out on him and ever since then you hated each others guts. Some called you childish, others say you'd like each other in the future but you always shaked it off. Maybe you were still a little heartbroken, but you spent years getting back at him.

"Just let me have my moment, wont you?" You scoff, laying another kiss on the trophy. "Ew, dont make out with it." Yujun makes a sour face. "And you did cheat." He finishes. "You whispered jinsik for help when you werent supposed too."

"Jinsik.. my teammate??" You laugh. "Those were the rules yujun, I really don't know what to say." You step towards him, and to your shock he does too.

"Why do you talk about jinsik all the time anyway?" You flash back to the amount of times yujun glared at him, how his jaw would always tighten whenever jinsik made you laugh. "Do you have a crush on him or somethi- oh my god you're jealous!!" You slap his arms repeatedly as yujun scoffs, his ears turning pink.

"I do no-"

"Everything makes sense now," you cut him off, a smile on your face. Yujun rolls his eyes, turning his body away from yours as you notice how pink his ears were. "Aww your ears!!" You coo, leaning to touch his ear when he pushes your body away.

"S-stop.." he blushes more as you giggle at him, leaning to touch his ear again. "I said stop!!" His voice gets deeper as he pushes you again, the force making you fall on your butt, your arm running against a sharp edge.

"Oww.." your eyes water as you look down your arm, the red blood tinkling out as you wince, looking away. "Oh my god!!" Yujun panicks, looking around for a first ad kit. "I'm so sorry!!" He repeats endlessly, finding the first ad in a cabinet and rushing to your arm.

Grabbing it softly, he pats your arm with a cloth. "I-im so sorry, I didnt mean to push you that hard and now your bleeding, oh my god this is all my fault, I so sor-"

"Yujun." You cut him off, making him stop and look up at you. His eyes looked damped as he blinks a tear away. "Its not your fault.. I was pushing your buttons anyway." You reason, but yujun wasn't hearing it.

"I'm sorry.." he repeats again, his voice soft as he cleans up his cut. Although you hated, you felt your heart soften. Yujun was always big and bad, he never showed this side before. "Its okay.." you whisper, squeezing his hand. You smile softly at him, and after a while he returns it, looking down again.

After cleaning your cut, he sits beside you, leaning his head against the wall. "You've never been this nice before.." you break the silence, yujun looking over at you. "Yeah.." he chuckles before thinking. He has never been this nice towards you before.

"Why are you being so nice to me again?"

"Because I hurt you." He answers simply. "I always hurt you." He smiles sadly.

"Yujun I-"

"This is all my fault. I shouldn't have told you the wrong answer during that spelling bee thing." He chuckles, shaking his head. "I realized I told you the wrong answer as you were saying it. I should've said the wrong answer too so I could stand next to you that day. I ruined all of my chances with you."

"Chances..? Yujun, did you like me?"

"A lot." He nods. "I still do, but you hate me now. I would hate me too."

"Yujun.."

"I wish I could so back in time and change everything."

"Yujun!!" You cup his cheeks, making him stop talking again. His eyes widen for a second before a smile comes. "Aw you look so cute." He boops your nose.

"You shouldn't say that to yourself yujun."

"Everything that I said was true," he shrugs, "theres no use of denying it."

"I like you too, jun."

"Aww you dont have to lie to make me feel better, after I made you hurt for all these years."

That's it, you couldnt take it anymore.

"Why are you leaning so close??"

You peck his nose. "Y-yahh what are you doin-" Lifting his face, you press a soft kiss on his lips. A kiss sound echoes throughout the empty room when you break it a couple seconds later. Holding yujuns face close to yours, you give him a stern gaze. "If you dont stop talking I'm going to kiss you again."

"But I-"

Kiss.

[grawlix-ness]

Nest

How much harm could an appreciative ogle between long-time associates bring?

Word Count: 7,323

Characters: Sleet, Dingo, featuring appearances from Robotnik and a OC

Pairing: Sleet x Dingo

A/N: rated PG - heads up for sexual humor, unabashed pandering to the furry gaze, and implied cartoon bird violence

This is largely meant to be a set-up/introduction to my version of the Underground setting.

Sleet had barely managed to stifle any involuntary squeals during Robotnik's presentation of the Red Whiptail. Modular, capable of traversing multiple biomes. Gleaming cherry-red exterior, optimal voice recognition, rotary plasma cannons, and a sophisticated targeting system. Not to mention the seat warmers. Dingo was not as good at self-control as Sleet was. His unimpressed "I dunno. Looks kinda like a lobster, don't it?" was mortifying.

The wolf covered for him, as he so often found himself doing. "At risk of sounding forward, sir.  I-I humbly request you be patient with him, Your Royal Greatness. Dingo’s a dolt, yes, but he's good for it, I assure you!" Thankfully, Robotnik had acknowledged both interruptions with an annoyed lip twitch and nothing more, leaving them to perform their duties. He must have been in a decent mood.

A shiny, new ship and he successfully talked Robotnik down from roboticizing them. Everything was coming up Sleet. Almost everything, anyway.

"You know," Sleet said, frowning at his hulking accomplice's feet-dragging gait, "you could at least pretend to be enjoying yourself."

Dingo countered. “They could at least make it more fun. Buncha milksops. They don’t even fight!”

“Aristocrats don’t fight.” Sleet, for one, found collecting tribute refreshing. A nice change of pace from tracking Freedom Fighter movement.

Dingo’s response was a caveman-like grunt, as he always did when faced with hard truths and things he couldn’t punch. Sleet rarely saw him this surly. When they were freelancing, Dingo would simply redirect any agitation by way of giving their quarry a generous amount of pummeling. But this particular job didn’t require knuckle dusting, so there was this new dynamic, all this groaning and moaning that Sleet was decidedly not a fan of, even if Dingo’s pouty lips were mildly amusing.

“Why’m I even here if there’s no skulls that need crushing?” He slung a money bag stuffed to its seams over one massive shoulder. “I should be crushing skulls.”

“That’s easy,” Sleet playfully swung his own more manageable bag by his side, drinking in the pleasant clitter-clatter of stolen riches. “You have a discouraging aura.”

Dingo considered this explanation for a beat and then his face soured. “Oi! Are yew tryin’ t’say I stink?” His accent had a tendency to flare up whenever he was upset.

Dimwit, Sleet thought, though with more amusement than ire or disgust. He risked placing a hand on his snarly partner-in-crime’s arm and patted it reassuringly. Dingo’s face softened. “I’m saying you’re the ace up my sleeve. When people see your mug and monstrous physique, they’re more likely to listen, less inclined to cheat in business. And you make a good pack mule. There’s that too.”

“Er, you lost me when you said sleeve,” Dingo admitted. “What’s this about a mug and a mule?”

“Just accept the compliment. I don’t give them often.”

The most recent tributary, a bejeweled goat woman, called out and waved goodbye to them after seeing them off her residence. Despite her gesture, Sleet could tell she was more than a little relieved to see their backs. Her purse-rat yipped profusely under her arm, as purse-rats were wont to do. Sleet was surprised Dingo didn’t bark back. He must really be glum.

“Hey, Sleet?” asked Dingo, as they retraced their steps, passing manicured topiary gardens, marble statues, and a small fleet of Swatbots on patrol.

“Yes, Dingo?” He braced himself to hear a silly question.

“Your hand.”

Sleet looked down and found that he had yet to remove it from Dingo’s bicep. He pulled away posthaste. “I—uh—” Sleet brought a fist to his muzzle to cover a bout of staged throat clearing, then opened his mouth only to come up empty. All the self-assured remarks the wolf tried to muster up evaporated on his tongue, which felt unusually heavy. Out of options, Sleet screwed his mouth shut and ducked away from Dingo’s quizzical gaze. The Red Whiptail coming into view offered a much welcome change of topic.

He thrust his bag into Dingo’s chest—the mutant just barely catching it—then beelined for the vehicle. “Move it. We’re burning daylight.”

 “Hey, wait up! Ain’t daylight su’posed to burn?”

The new car smell was transcendent. Not for the first time, Sleet wafted the scent towards him, as one would when sniffing a fine wine’s bouquet. He sighed relishingly. Who said a military vehicle couldn’t also be a luxury vehicle?

Their last ride was neither. It was supposed to be a tentative arrangement. Sleet’s partnership with Dingo, too, was once intended to be a tentative arrangement. Despite himself, he had a knack for picking up strays and hangers on.  Out of the two blunt objects, Sleet had considerably less amity towards the vehicle, the Dinghy. It wasn’t his first idea for a name, but it stuck, and the title was certainly apt. Dingo liked it well enough, finding humor in their similar sobriquets.

No self-respecting bounty hunter would be caught dead driving a lemon, so whenever anyone of importance asked, Sleet said it was Dingo’s ship.  It might as well have been his. He was in evidence everywhere, what with his crumbs from his foodstuffs on the patched-up seats and yellowed carpeting.  Many a pine tree air freshener tried to make a dent in its corn chip funk-shroud, and all failed.

After storing the Mobium with the rest of the day’s haul, Dingo flopped into his seat with even more inelegance than usual, propping his legs up over the arm of the chair. He reclined, languid and limp. Had it not been for all his lumps, his defined muscles and paunch, he would have resembled an understuffed plush toy.

Sleet squinted at the pitiful creature, shrugged, then went to his respective seat—the driver’s seat in front—and put the Whiptail into gear. It started easily, he noted, whereas the Dinghy tended to resist. “Computer!” Sleet beckoned. “Be a dear and find me a shortcut to the Harrigan Estate.” Hands flourishing, he unconsciously doubled down on his bravado to distract from whatever was going on with Dingo.

A robotic voice monotoned, and Sleet heard Dingo startle a bit. The mutant wasn’t used to all the bells and whistles yet. “Shortcut located.”

The dash lit up. Sleet, humming, skimmed over the projected map, then shooed it away. “That’ll do, computer.” He gripped the Whiptail’s yoke, or joystick as Dingo designated, ever the unsophisticated provincial. Sleet pulled and—

“Y’don’t have to call ‘im that.”

The Red Whiptail settled back to the ground. Sleet peered around his seat. “What?”

“Robotnik. You don’t have to call ‘im Your Excellency. Your Most Brilliantness, Your Mercifulness, all that rot. He’s just a guy.”

Sleet felt almost offended on Robotnik’s behalf.  “Just a guy?”

“He’s just another guy, this is just another job.”

“That is our employer. Be respectful.” No stranger to perfidiousness, he could hardly believe he was saying it himself. In truth, Doctor Julian Robotnik was a commendable individual. A mysterious offworlder with nothing to his name turned iron fist despot overnight. His technology was unmatched, all-powerful. If you weren’t with him, you were against him, and Sleet couldn’t have moved quicker to perish the thought. Who was he to look a gift alien in the mouth? “And anyway, if he’s as smart as they say, he’s probably got this thing bugged. He could be listening in.”

“Well, I don’t respect nobody! ‘Specially not some bloomin’ cue ball nerd! C’mon, Sleet, can’t we, y’know. . .” He pounded a fist into an open palm, then twisted to further flatten the imaginary Robotnik. “Then take the money and run? Like that time when—”

“We can’t always take the money and run.” Just like before, Dingo only grunted. “Oh, don’t be like that. I’m looking out for us. The world’s changing, we have to change too. It’s business. And business is . . .”

Dingo finished flatly. “Good. Business is good . . .” He turned away and stared at the wall with the bland, unseeing look of the defeated.

Clearly, the computer was unfamiliar with the term shortcut. When Doctor Robotnik mentioned the Whiptail was experimental, Sleet figured he meant experimental in design, not that it was a prototype.

Surely the Harrigan Estate couldn’t be near a swamp.  Or was it the Harrington Estate? Just as no self-respecting bounty hunter would be caught dead in a lemon, no self-respecting blue blood would be caught anywhere near a swamp.  Maybe it’s a tactic to keep others out, Sleet thought. He wasn’t big on swamps, and it seemed to him most Mobians weren’t either. Smart Mobians anyway. The oppressive heat, the hidden quagmires, the sloshing through leech-rife, waist-high water. The pollen! Barely qualifies as habitable.

For miles and miles, Robotnik’s influence was conspicuous in absence. The swamp must have had nothing of value, or he simply hadn’t gotten to razing it yet. Sleet wasn’t about to pretend to understand the good doctor’s inner machinations. All he was thinking was how flammable swamps were.

One little spark, and it’d light up like a busted fusion ripper on a summer’s day. The hypothetical inferno made Sleet smile. He considered sharing this fantasy with Dingo, knowing how much they both enjoyed wanton destruction. However, he had the feeling this wasn’t the best of times. Their talk from before still loomed over them.

With a sigh, Sleet mentally threw his hands up, choosing to trust the Whiptail and its state-of-the-art specs and kick back a while. All the green was making his eyes glaze over anyway. He put it into autopilot. Every now and then, the gentle and steady hum of the ship’s engine was interrupted by the racket of Dingo’s paddle ball endeavors. Endeavors was truly the most apt word. The mutant’s lack of coordination made the game a nigh indomitable feat. He had wrested the sorry excuse for entertainment out of his rucksack earlier.

Dingo was something of a pack rat, and over the years he had accumulated a veritable collection of junk. His rucksack carried the “essentials”, said essentials largely consisting of late night infomercial and tourist trap goods. At any rate, Sleet was glad Dingo found the paddle ball.

Usually Dingo occupied most if not all of the ride ambience. Rather than the inconstant plonk-plonking of successful paddle ball hits, and the more frequent muttered expletives following the misses, he would fumble his way through retelling a vulgar joke he overheard, or ramble about how unfair it was that companies retired ice cream flavors. Vacuous, unfiltered, and generally one-sided conversations, talking just to talk.

Sleet used to be annoyed by the chatter, but it’d since become a sort of a background noise, familiar and, somehow, comforting. Its absence had made him ill at ease.

The wolf refrained from any probing. Dingo had grown judicious enough over the years to afford him the same wide berth dignity whenever he was discontent. Sleet was returning the favor. Still, the faintest specters of concern continued to mount on his conscience and stir in his chest.

He had a hunch why Dingo was in a mood: The Red Whiptail was a replacement. Robotnik didn’t make his feelings towards their previous vehicle a secret. According to him, it wasn’t even worth scrapping for parts. Why Robotnik was so bothered by its presence in the first place, Sleet didn’t know.  Rules were rules, and rust buckets were expendable.

Sleet wasn’t much for sentimentality. Sentimentality made one soft, he steadfastly believed. He had yet to see anything to convince him otherwise, and he’d sooner die than chance it. Try as he might, Sleet’s teachings didn’t rub off on Dingo in the slightest. Although, very little in general managed to get through his thick skull.

Indeed, Dingo was a sap, sentimental to an excess. He would hole up in his quarters for hours on end, tending to his scrapbooks, getting glitter and glue all over the place because his ham hands weren’t made for precision work. He would go into gift shops and try on shirts, before remembering he doesn’t like shirts, hanging the eviscerated aftermath back on the rack and opting for something dinky and juvenile to put on the dashboard instead.  He would make up anniversaries and get upset when Sleet didn’t remember. It was pathetic, really. Embarrassing.

The big lug was so engrossed with mementos, that he wore his signature ratty pair of green shorts as a symbol of mutual growth. Earlier in their partnership, they would fight. If Sleet was ticked off enough, and he knew he had the high ground, things got physical, and clothes got tattered. Now, Dingo, overly affectionate oddity that he was, refused to have his shorts mended, even though Sleet had offered several times.  It was absurd. Infuriating! He had to be doing it just to get under his skin.

But the pants did look good on him.

Real good.

Sleet wasn’t used to being behind such a clear windshield. The Dinghy had accumulated so much grime over the course of their misadventures Sleet had abandoned the idea of ever cleaning it—rain existed for a reason, and that reason was to clean stuff he didn’t have the time nor patience for. Dingo thought the muck gave it character, so he too rebuffed the notion. Thus Sleet rarely ever saw Dingo’s reflection, let alone his own.  In the Red Whiptail, however, he found himself staring. Naturally, being a mountain of muscle, there was a whole lot of Dingo to stare at.

The way his tongue peeked out between his plump lips as he focused on the ball, the way his arm muscles clenched with every successful bounce, the way his emerald eyes glimmered, rapt, ablaze with intensity. . .

How much harm could an appreciative ogle between long-time associates bring? Or an unwitting bicep grope for that matter? Sleet was merely admiring Dingo’s continued bulking efforts.

He’d been too busy reassuring himself of this to notice the incoming flock of reptavians. So transfixed was Sleet, he scarcely registered that Dingo cried out, “Bird strike!” The volume of it was just enough to wrest him from his daze. He didn’t take evasive action in time. The Whiptail was bombarded by a panicked, fluttering mass of feathers, scales, and sharp, little talons. It careened, Sleet having overcalculated his swerve, and spiraled, quickly losing altitude, dropping like a stone. All the while, adding to the confusion, the ship’s alarms blared ear-bleedingly loud and its lights flashed a harsh, angry-looking red.

“Pull up, pull up, pull up! Computer, do something!” cried Sleet, hands aggressively taut around the yokestick. “Useless—TREE! TREE!”

There were in fact trees, plural, on account of them crashing into the swamp’s dense canopy. Much ooching and ouching and eeking was had, the latter mostly coming from the panic-stricken driver. After practically hitting every tree branch, The Red Whiptail collided with the earth and rolled over at least thrice, jostling wolf and mutant dog about, before hydroplaning into what could only be described as a glorified mud pit.

Miraculously, it had landed right side up. Its engine made a planiative, shuddering sound, something of a robotic death rattle. The alarms began to fade, but Sleet couldn’t appreciate the auditorial reprieve, for his heartbeat was pounding in his ear.

It wasn’t until Dingo piped up again, cheering and hooting, that Sleet fully understood the sorry state of affairs his unrestrained ogling had gotten them into. “Woo-hoo!” The mutant banged excitedly on his armrests. “What a rush! Let’s do that again!” Only he could find good cheer in a crash landing.

“No!” Sleet whirled on him, seat swiveling. He made a big X gesture with his arms then emphatically slashed the air. Dingo flinched and shrunk down. “No woo-hoo! You fool, this is the least opportune time to woo-hoo! This is no woo-hooing matter!”

There was a beat of silence, barring the muted sirens of the Whiptail and the squelching of pond scum settling around its hull. Dingo fiddled awkwardly with two fingers, poking their tips together. His encore was hushed.  “Woo-hoo. . .”

Sleet placed his head in his hands, pulled down on his eyelids, and let vent something between a wail and a groan. Behind him, the once-immaculate windshield creaked, laden with scratches and reptavian-shaped smears. He couldn’t bear to look at it. How could he have crashed the Whiptail on the very first day of owning it? What am I going to tell Robotnik? He’ll be incensed!

Dingo seemingly read his mind. “Pfft!” He waved a dismissive hand. “It’ll be fine! Tell ‘im the bloody thing fell on its own. Dropped right outta the sky. I’ve seen ships do it before.”

“What?!” Sleet lifted his head, reeling back at the very notion. “And insult his craftsmanship? No, I’m not doing that.”

The mutant remained adamant. “It’ll be fine. Don’t worry, Sleet. We’ve been in stickier situations.” His eyes lit up with delayed realization. “Hah! Sticky!”

“Mm, yes, you’re quite the comedian, aren’t you?” said Sleet dryly. “A regular cut-up.”

Predictably, Dingo took no offense, grinning proudly instead. Sarcasm was not something he trafficked in. “Hehe, yeah!”

Sleet muttered a few tired nothings. Blast it all. Blast the glass for being so clean! Blast his loins for being so fallible!  Why’d his body choose today of all days to turn to mush? Or was it his brain? The difference didn’t matter.  He was angry at himself, scientific musings notwithstanding.

Grumbling, the wolf stood on his seat, popped open the Whiptail’s dome, and peered out. Straight away, muggy swamp air assailed his nose, and he recoiled at the stench. Reptavians, superficially turkey-like in countenance and with long tails that echoed that of anole lizards, honked indignantly from the surrounding trees, collision victims turned spectators. With the resonating knob on their beaks, they created a strange, distorted racket, like geese trapped in an h-vac.

“I don’t think they’re happy with you, Sleet,” observed Dingo.

“You,” Sleet glared at him over his shoulder, “stay put. I don’t want your poundage rocking the boat, so to speak. And don’t touch anything!”

Dingo sighed, his earlier melancholy returning to his voice. He craved action. Badly, judging by the saliva that eked from his mouth. The mutant looked down and accepted reluctantly. “Righto.”

After bidding Dingo a satisfied nod, Sleet, grunting not of effort but of exasperation, hefted himself up on top of the Whiptail and perched.

Smoke was pouring out from beneath it, and its conduits hissed. The wings, though heavily dented, were still intact. Most striking of all was the abundance of iridescent feathers littering its entirety. If the initial blunt force trauma hadn’t done the pests in, the thrusters certainly did, a scent similar to cooked poultry faint on the air.

A pair of talons swooped down, ripping free a lock of hair. Before he could even yelp, another zipped past and grazed his ears.

“Hey!” Sleet shook a fist toward the sky. “Do you have any idea how long that takes to coif? How much hairspray I go through?!” A third reptavian zipped towards him. He batted it away, only for another to quickly take its place and nick his nose. “Ow! Lousy lizard-chickens! I—” His posturing was undercut by a rapid-fire succession of violent sneezes, during which Sleet’s foot slipped. He teetered over with a gasp, arms windmilling desperately.

“I gotcha!” Unusually timely and accurate, Dingo caught him by his cape before he fell into the murky, curdled water. Sleet scrabbled up to safety next to him. The ship had dipped a little at Dingo’s bulk, not enough to cause alarm. Once recomposed, the wolf gave him a small nod, mumbling agreeably. An approximation of a thank you.  

Dingo was versed enough with Sleet’s shorthand. “Anytime, mate.” He knew it was silly, but the Trailian addressment always gave him pause. The wolf hoped it didn’t show in his face. “It’s guivre nestin’ season. They’re prob’ly flying someplace hotter.” Sleet’s face thankfully appeared to be the last thing on his mind. Dingo had a stint in the Quokka Scouts as a pup. He was quick to remind Sleet whenever he got a chance. The usefulness of these wildlife facts fluctuated. “Guivre use the heat from volcanic vents to warm their eggs. At least that’s what I heard on the nature channel. Er, when there was a nature channel. Hey, did you know they’re menoguh . . . manipedi. . . they don’t ever break up! S’real romantic.”

“Their coupling patterns are of no concern to me. Do these beasts eat Mobians? Are they venomous?”

“No, but they do keep grudges.”

Sleet glanced balefully up at the guivre that continued to circle. “I can relate,” he said, raising his gun. Instead of a volley of blaster bolts he produced a volley of sneezes, the force of which knocked him back unceremoniously onto his tail and elicited a sympathetic “ooo” noise from his partner.

The honks from the trees suddenly sounded a lot like laughter. Sails deflated, Sleet returned his gun to its holster and glumly wiped his nose with the back of his hand. He winced at the abrasiveness; gauntlets didn’t make for good tissues.

“Gee, Sleet,” remarked Dingo, voice softer now, “ya comin’ down with something?”

Sleet growled. “I don’t get sick! I haven’t been sick since I was a pup. It’s allergies. Clearly. From the pollen.” He gave him a pointed look. “Although it certainly doesn’t help that you shed everywhere.”

Dingo’s shoulders sagged. “Sorry.”

A lesser individual may have faltered at this display, at those wibbly, apologetic eyes and wilted ears. Sleet was no lesser individual, he vehemently reminded himself. “You ought to be.” There was some ice to it, a bit more than he intended.

Not enough ice to dissuade Dingo. Stubborn thing. “Can I make it up to you?”

He sighed. “Your tenacity is nothing short of unspeakable.” Sleet oscillated between finding said idiosyncrasy moderately admirable or extremely obnoxious. One thing was certain: Dingo was an interesting specimen.  

The mutant’s thick brows briefly furrowed in consternation, the telltale sign he wasn’t sure if Sleet had complimented or insulted him, and then he smiled. “You won’t regret it. Promise.”

“Heh,” Sleet sniffed, partly out of wry amusement, partly because of nasal drip. “Just be quiet and stay out of the way. I need to make a call.”

“Y’sure I can’t just push us outta the muck? Turn me into a tugboat or something?”

“I appreciate your enthusiasm, but the last time we tried something like that you ripped the Dinghy in two. I’d rather not risk it with the good doctor’s gift. Save your strehn. . . s-streeENG. . . ACH–CHOO!” That one hurt. Luckily, the loudness of the sternutation spooked the remaining guivre off. Vengeance another time then, Sleet decided, massaging his aching temples.

“Gadzook’s height.”

The malapropism caught Sleet unawares, and he choked back a laugh. Dimwit. “You always know just what to say.”

 Dingo beamed at this. Sleet found it hard not to smile back.

Dressed down to his one-piece undersuit, Sleet untangled himself from his seat—as his condition worsened, he’d taken a page out of Dingo’s book and tried becoming a droopy plush toy. It wasn’t as comfortable as his colleague had made it look.

The computer’s voice recognition was off, as was the air conditioning. Against his and his sweat-soused neck’s wishes, the Red Whiptail had automatically shifted into a hibernative state, reserving its power. He could have barred that by switching a few levels and turning a few dials. Or so he presumed anyway; Sleet never read manuals in their entirety.

 Its mutiny was for the best, he begrudgingly accepted. Sleet knew he might not have been able to make his important call otherwise.

Torque was an old friend. Something like that, at any rate. The tamarin mechanic was at least sixty percent more reliable than anyone else Sleet and Dingo regularly associated with. She’d always been good to them when gigs were slim, and even before that, when Sleet was a pup, she looked out for him.

Well, “looking out for” was a relative term.

She was a businesswoman first and foremost, a grandmotherly figure second. It was clear to him in retrospect she’d kept him around during his early years because he was small and limber, good for squeezing into tight fits, such as rusty old carburetors or the air vents of competing repair businesses.

Eventually, Sleet got too big for vents and too restless for simple espionage jobs. Bounty hunting scratched his adrenaline itch and put larger sums of money on the table. In spite of the less agreeable occupational hazards, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

I probably wouldn’t have met Dingo, Sleet thought, and he felt something within his chest bloom, almost flutter. The moment was short-lived. Curse him and his soppy sappiness! Alone for five minutes and I start skipping down memory lane! He shook off, shook his head free of any more cerebral peregrinations. Sleet immediately regretted doing so, temples aching in protest. Once everything stopped spinning, he looked at the control panel’s touch display and swallowed, half-nausea, half-trepidation, then punched in the comlink number.

The video feed, produced in front of the ship’s windowpane via a projector nodule, didn’t buffer long before he was greeted with the industrial, and impossibly greasy, trappings of the shop floor and his potential savior’s begoggled face.

Her dark mustard boilersuit was shopworn and scungy, begrimed from all manner of motor oil. Torque’s right arm was a robotic limb discreetly kitted out with multitool upon multitool—total overkill in Sleet’s opinion, but Dingo found it ceaselessly fascinating. Its metallic fingers preened at the sweeping ashen mustache sprouting from her muzzle, grayed from both age and wayward embers oft ensnared in the wispy vibrissa.

Behind her, proletarians of various stripes and sizes grubbed away, dismantling, rebuilding, and barking at one another for tools. Primates made up the bulk of the machinist field, though it was not uncommon to see members of the procyon and muridae families also among the ranks. It was generally believed these groups were more dexterous, light-handed. Whether or not the theory held water was anyone’s guess. Those with nimble fingers certainly weren’t in a rush to test it and risk their financial security.

“Sleet. To what do I owe the pleasure?” Her low, craggy voice was presumably the result of years of unchecked smoke inhalation and caterwauling at employees. Or customers, if she was so inclined. Aged to a register as murky as her vigilance to health code violations, she always either sounded annoyed or deeply uninterested. She pushed her eyewear up to her forehead and studied him for a moment, finishing with a snort. “You look like crap.”

“You’re a paragon of grace as always, Torque.”

The tamarin nearly cut him off. “You sound like crap too. Where’s your better half?”

And Torque likely meant that literally. Dingo was a sucker, and she found his negotiating skills not only hilarious but profitable. He enjoyed her company well enough too, mostly because she always had sweets on her. Sleet partook in no such thing; his palate was far too refined for grandma candies, and monkey hair and pocket lint inevitably found their way inside the wrappers.

“You won’t be borrowing him anytime soon,” Sleet puffed out his chest with some difficulty, a rasp leaving his lungs. It wasn’t easy to boast with congestion. “We’re full-timers now.”

“I heard. Congratulations on becoming a lap dog. I was hoping you’d come to your senses before that robot-obsessed screwloose made it official.”

“Come to my senses? I see things more clearly than ever before. My place is by Robotnik’s side. Not piddling about with yokels.”

“That’s what they all say. You see one dictator, you’ve seen ‘em all.” This left Sleet to wonder how old she was. Wonder was all he could do, since when he last gave into curiosity and asked, she shot him the ugliest look and charged extra on the Dinghy’s tuneup.

“Yes, well, that robot-obsessed screwloose is developing weapons beyond comprehension and has surveillance everywhere, so I advise you hold your tongue.”

“I’ll sleep on it. Enough about Robotnik. I'm assuming you didn’t call to catch up with a—what was that quaint word you used? Yokel?”

“Our ship’s bogged.” He withheld the details, knowing he would never hear the end of it otherwise. “We need a lift.”

“Why don’t you ask your dear friend Robotnik?” She paused, then laughed. “It’s one of his ships, isn’t it?” The laugh quickly became a cackle. “You always were bad at taking sharp turns! Like that time when—”

Sleet interrupted before she could finish any embarrassing aerial anecdotes.  “I’m not asking Robotnik because you still owe us after that live transport fiasco, remember? As if I needed another slobbering beast to care for.”

“Huh. I do? Musta slipped my mind.” She scratched her face, jostling free a swath of soot and dandruff. The sight made Sleet’s nose itch.

“Yes, your mind does lean slippery.”

She laughed again, quieter, more of a chuff. It carried a note of wistfulness. “Takes one to know one. Alright, Mr. Big Shot, once I pinpoint your coordinates I’ll send my boys right over.”

“Right over?”

“Right over.”

“Meaning removal and repair for free. That’s how favors work. No fees, no tax. No catches.”

“You wound me, Sleet. I’m not that bad.”

“You’re right. You’re worse.”

Torque smiled broadly, displaying her canines’ dental crowns. The projection failed to accurately translate how the golden prosthetics shimmered in person. “We yokels have to make ends meet somehow. But I accept your terms, as lously expressed as they were. Drink some tea or something, kid.”

Sleet stopped her before she disconnected. “How is it?”

Her simian face scrunched in confusion. It took her a moment to catch his drift. When she did, Torque jabbed a finger at him and waved it up and down, clearly vindicated. “I knew you’d miss that bucket of bolts. She’s fine. Rusty as ever. Untouched. Unsold.” The tamarin played with her whiskers, saying mock-longingly, “Not a huge market for us biddies.”

“I don’t miss it. I’m not asking for myself, I’m asking for Di. . . ” He trailed off. “I’m asking about my cut of the sale.”

Torque looked unconvinced. She didn’t linger on it though. “Take care of yourself, Sleet.” Her voice held a somewhat bittersweet affect that Sleet wasn’t sure if his increasingly foggy brain imagined.

They both got off the line. Sleet stared at the blank projector for a moment longer, then turned away and quietly fumed. “Better half . . . bah!” He crossed his arms. “Even if it were true, I’d be the better half.”

And yet, he heard it so often. There had been a time when Sleet sharply corrected positors of such a ludicrous idea, but he’d since grown slack in rectifying the flying rumors. They were harmless, and he’d be a fool to pass down all the deals and discounts awarded to couples. Dingo, thankfully, was none the wiser to the innuendos other bounty hunters sent their way.

It wasn’t real. It would never be real.

There were moments. Moments of weakness, fleeting moments that he kicked himself into forgetting. He was deep in a moment right now for pity’s sake, sitting inside the evidence. As much as he wanted to blame the birds, he was . . . at least partially responsible for the crash.

His headache surged. Sleet took it as his cue to stop navel-gazing so hard over the L-word. You are a bounty hunter. You are not some lovesick pup. You are not weak.

Then the comm chimed. He answered without checking the address. “I swear, if this is about honeymoon spots again. . . for the last time, Torque, we’re not—”

“AHEM.”

Sleet’s ears sprung erect, and his heart propelled itself into his throat. “Your Grace!” The wolf jumped out of his seat and issued his choreographed greeting at once, dropping into a slight curtsy. His ingratiation was sloppier than he would have liked, betrayed by the headrush he received in doing so. He rose. “S-sincerest apologies, Your Majesty, I thought you were someone else.”

Robotnik’s decent mood had come and gone. “What’s the holdup?! You should have been back ages ago, have you collected my tribute or NOT?!” Literally red in the face, he slammed down a fist on one of his throne’s arm rests. “I didn’t give you that ship for joyriding!”

“I would never, I assure you. Dingo might, but not me. I’m the conniving one.”

“I don’t care what you are! You’ll be the roboticized one if you don’t give me a good excuse for your delinquency!”

“I’m doing double duty,” Sleet said, partly expecting to hear a snicker from over his shoulder. Dingo could never keep it together at the mention of the word duty. Thankfully the mutant was still away, presumably chewing on rocks and harassing the local wildlife.

Sleet wasn’t familiar with human facial expressions—Robotnik was the only one he’d ever encountered—but it seemed to him that the man looked intrigued, his brow having arched. “Double duty?”

He straightened, feeling confident about the baited hook he set. “Collecting tribute and running recon. My file mentioned my expertise in cloak and dagger activities, yes?”

The tyrant’s frown returned, and he sighed. “I have surveillance bots for that.”

“Surveillance bots are not as personable as me, sire. Inorganic beings often cannot engage in amenable conversation with organic beings. I know people. I know how to get them talking, keep them talking.”

There was a pregnant pause as Robotnik appeared to consider Sleet’s explanation, fingers interlaced. His flushed color subsided. Finally, he said in a stony, hushed tone, “If I find out you’re lying . . .”

Sleet suddenly found himself too fatigued to be threatened. Body temperature flaring, the cold floor of the Red Whiptail was calling his name. Perhaps he could use his cape as a makeshift blanket if he got too frigid. With the first suggestions of sunset, the swamp wasn’t as warm as it’d been. He rubbed at a puffy eye and said. “I’ll be roboticized, I understand, sire.”

At the sound of flapping wings, Sleet jolted from his fugue state. His breath caught. Had the lizard-chickens come back? To finish him off in his weakened state?

Instead of a vengeful flock of reptavians, however, only one large, orange pelican with a heavily distended pouch approached the window. The evening sky echoed its color. It landed ontop the hull and, through purple spectacles, peered expectantly inside.  

Groaning, the wolf got to his feet, stalked over to the dashboard, and pressed the button that opened the dome. Some of the Whiptail’s controls were still functional. The list was growing thin.

“Where have you been?” Sleet scowled at his transmutated partner as he descended from the roof.  “And why a bird? After what happened earlier, I could have shot you!”

“I was a bird when I left. Easier to trav—”

“I was starting to worry!”

The pseudo-seabird roused, giving his wings a good shake, then waddled closer. Sleet made a frustrated noise at the down that Dingo-Pelican produced. Hadn’t they just discussed shedding?

 “Aww, you were worried about me?” Dingo’s voice was somewhat garbled, as one might sound when talking around a jawbreaker.

Sleet’s nape bristled. “No!” The exclamation came out shriller than intended. His chagrin, and the heat that stole over his face, doubled. He was glad his fur was thick enough to hide his blushing. “I was starting to get worried you’d gotten ME into trouble. Starting being the operative word.”

“Trouble’s exciting! Trouble’s good! Good like business! And even if I did, I’d get you out of it anyway.”

This was true. Dingo’s relative indestructibility and dogged loyalty came through. Sleet could always count on him to make a dramatic entrance, do a little rampaging here, a little rampaging there, bash a few more skulls, and then whisk him away.

He could also always count on him to give him stress-induced split ends.

“Whatever. Don’t talk with your mouth full.”

Dingo-Pelican dumped his gular pouch’s contents on the floor—his rucksack, and shockingly clean, too—then turned to Sleet and spread his wings wide. Sleet was also versed in Dingo’s shorthand: zap me. Once returned to form, the mutant reached inside the bag, extracted a thermos, and presented it proudly. “I made ya soup.”

Sleet had sat back down against the wall. “I’m not sick, Dingo. It’s allergies.” A meaty paw extended the thermos anyway. Stubborn thing. The wolf accepted his offering, eying it suspiciously. “This wouldn’t happen to be poison, would it? You’re not exactly discriminating with your ingredients.”

“Poison?!” Dingo barked out a huge laugh that made Sleet’s ears flatten and pull back. Having an inside voice wasn’t a concept Dingo subscribed to.  “You’re such a kidder! That’s a good one, Sleet. Naw, it’s vegetable soup. S’made with love.”

“Mhm, right. So, poison.”

He laughed again before sitting down next to Sleet and explaining, “I know you have a delicate, non-mutant stomach, so I didn’t use anythin’ exotic. No swamp ingredients. I use fresh veggies in my protein shakes, plain regular stuff. I packed some o’ those. Oh, by the way, the mini kitchen gadgets you said were a load of hooey work like a charm. You owe Mr. Blendy and his friends an apology.” The instant of sass was just that, an instant, and Dingo returned to his usual congeniality. “Anyway, I figured I could maybe skip the shake today if it means I’d help a friend.”

Sleet hitched slightly. Not at the word, but at how earnestly he said it.

“Well, go ahead! Drink up! Doctor’s orders.”

He would have quipped about his lack of a medical license, except now that he had the thermos in his hands he was feeling peckish. Can’t be that bad, he thought. Dingo was a decent chef when he wasn’t making up his own abnormal recipes.

Sleet uncapped the flask. Steam rose to greet him. He breathed it in, and his sinuses rejoiced at having a homespun humidifier. Turned out there was a smell better than new car. Sleet gave the soup a slow, experimental sip, then hummed in surprised delight and eagerly went for more.

It was savory, sapid, the hearty bouillon a balm for his throat and his spirit. Could be even better with meat. He considered briefly what guivre tasted like, then thought better of it. Cantankerous as they were, their texture would likely be too tough.

He eased his head back and sighed, eyes momentarily closing in tranquility, an emotion Sleet found all too rare a commodity. “I needed this. Thanks. My friend.” He realized how clipped his gratitude sounded and winced a little at its inacquency. Giving thanks that weren’t dripping in sarcasm was difficult.

Dr. Dingo was pleased regardless, a full-toothed grin breaking across his face. Patient satisfied, he went about feeding himself, chomping into some oddly-shaped swampy fruit or vegetable or something or other he had pulled from his bag. It squirted out juice, a speck of which catapulted onto Sleet’s cheek. On any other day, that would have been a shoutworthy offense. Instead, Sleet observed that he was only slightly irked and wiped it away.

For a while they sat like that, enjoying their repast in relative silence—Dingo’s tusks and jowls often exacerbated his mouth sounds, and Sleet’s sniffles hadn’t altogether abated yet.

Then, the mutant paused and looked thoughtfully at his tuber thing’s half-eaten carcass. Sleet had never seen him so pensive before.

“Hey, um, Sleet?” said Dingo abruptly, rubbing his thumb across the thing’s skin in a self-soothing manner. “I’m sorry, for being kinda a butt earlier. I’m just not used to all o’ this change. S’all happened so fast. We had a routine, y’know? This Robotnik bloke, he’s come in and turned everythin’ upside down.

“When he said to get rid o’ the Dinghy, I wanted to throttle ‘im so bad. If it were up t’me, I woulda clobbered the conehead after he shot at our feet. Nobody, and I mean NOBODY, shoots at our feet!”

With one emphatic squeeze, the malformed kiwi burst. He let its green puréed meat slip through the gaps between his fingers, massive chest expanding and contracting with ragged breaths that sounded more apt for a bull than any canine.

Something within Sleet squirmed. Frissons rippled up his back. Fear? Titillation? He readily accepted the former.

Dingo relaxed his hand and quickly rebounded from his sudden bestial spell, paying no mind to Sleet’s saucer eyes or bobbing throat. “But you seem so . . . ” He wiped his sullied hand on his pants and made an indecisive noise. “I’unno, what’s it called? Fulfilled? I’m not good with vocabulistuaries. Look, what I’m tryna say is, I don’t wanna lose this” — the mutant gestured between, vacillating— “I don’t wanna lose us, lose our thing.”

The mangling of the word vocabulary wrenched Sleet from his stupor. “Our thing?”

“Y’know, our thing. Our groove.”

“Our dynamic?”

Dingo nodded solemnly, gaze averting again.

“Muffinbrain,” Sleet lightly punched Dingo’s arm, “I’m not going anywhere. This new job isn’t as perfect as I hoped. I didn’t appreciate being shot at either. But an opportunity like this comes once in a lifetime. Not to mention, Robotnik will have us roboticized if we say otherwise.”

“Oh. Right. I forgot about that part.”

“Precisely why I’m staying. You’d lose your head if it wasn’t attached.”

He snickered before affirming, “Yeah, you’re always looking out for me.”

Again, the earnesty, how he spoke with his whole big, bleeding heart. It seemed to come so effortlessly to Dingo. Sleet didn’t know whether to be jealous or sickened of his abilities or warmed by it. Warmed appeared to be in the lead as the wolf continued, albeit slowly. “I’ve acquired, well . . . I’ve developed a slight fondness for your company. It’d be difficult, I think, to find a new partner. You’re irreplaceable.” How on Mobius does he do that? That was like pulling teeth!

Dingo’s teary-eyed look was not unexpected. He collected himself, straightening. His spirit renewed, he endeavored to let the whole world know it. “That’s right! No sweaty pink humie is gonna tear Sleet and Dingo apart! Dinghy or no Dinghy, we’re a team!”

Sleet pinned his ears back again. “Volume.” Dingo repeated his declaration in a whisper, eliciting a sigh and headshake of fond exasperation. After a moment, the wolf admitted. “We did have some good times in that cruddy thing.” It was certainly more roomy.

Dingo agreed, then prompted with a little gasp, “Hey, y’know somethin’? We’re sorta like the guivre. They’re moving on because there’s better nesting grounds. We’re moving on too.”

He stroked his goatee in consideration. “I suppose that’s a suitable comparison, yes. Though I’m certainly much more handsome than those scabrous buzzards—did you see the wattles on those things?”

Dingo belly laughed. “Yeah, they’re ugly!”

Sleet joined in as well, though less vociferous. For a considerable duration, they were overcome with mirth, practically falling over each other. When it ebbed away in winded wheezes and hoos, Sleet became acutely aware of Dingo’s close proximity. Aware of the sweet, citrusy scent lacing his breath, of the lush fur over his frightfully squeezable, robust physique. Aware of his eyes, beauteous, like the burning core of a Thermal Obliterator 2000. Sleet tensed, and Dingo, pressed against his side, belatedly realized his transgression.

Just as the penitent mutant made to scoot away, Sleet hooked an arm around his personal space invader’s wide torso as best he could and pulled him back into place, leaning his wearied head against his shoulder. It was a move that surprised them both.

Any second thoughts Sleet had volatilized upon snuggling into Dingo’s wrinkly ruff. “Forget pack mule,” he breathed, “you make an even better pillow.”

“Hohhh, Sleet!” Dingo’s wagging tail thrummed against the floor. “That’s so sweet of you to say!”

When Torque’s boys arrived, a part of Sleet was a little disappointed they were uncharacteristically punctual, but soon his more rational side won out. If they hadn’t shown up, he might not have ever let go.

[roostersup]

Isekai Legacy

Hogwarts Legacy Fanfic

Some AI art for my new story character (because while I feel I am a talented writer I am not an artist). She’s ended up in the Hogwarys Legacy game from a modern day time- which is why the baseball cap.

This story follow Jane Moore, a girl whose background we wont really get into- for the sake of my sanity. All we know is that she is American, a girl, loves playing Hogwarts Legacy, and now she gets placed into the game.

The first chapter I kind of speed through everything. I just want to set the stage for the rest of the story. Thing become a lot more detailed and enjoyable as the chapters go on.

Wattpad — Fanfic

Chapter 1

…….

…..The sorting ceremony! She had only taken every buzzfeed and pottermore quiz that had ever existed! Now she was going to live the real thing! Well as real as this was. Whatever, she was going to milk this for all that it was worth!

She followed after Black, feeling a little self conscious about all the eyes following her. She steeled herself from looking through the crowd to try to find Ominis- she was going to make their first encounter a memorable one. Instead she focused on the task ahead- what house was she going to be sorted into.

Now the whole deal with the storing is that you choose your destiny. Even in the game, if you get sorted into a house you can just choose whichever one you wanted anyway. Jane had played through them all and was now debating which one she should go with in this magical circumstance.

She thought that she might actually be a Ravenclaw, but she could go with the OG Gryfinndor for nostalgia- being in Harry Potter's house would be awesome. But the Hufflepuff common room was probably the best out of the four (in her opinion), but Slytherin would get her more time with her favorite character....

As she reached the stool where she would meet her fate, she decided to just let the hat do its things. It was kind of like she was getting the ultimate buzzfeed quiz. She froze before she made her way to the seat- staring in awe as the professor Weasley brought the scrubby hat towards her. It really looked like it was hundreds of years old- also it had been on literally a bunch of 11 year olds heads.... No no it was fine, this was all a dream- none of that stuff mattered.

She took her seat and tensed excitedly as the hat covered over her eyes.

"Ah yes- a bit older than the others, aren't you?"

Ah yes, the pre-set dialogue. At this point she might be able to copy exactly what the hat was going to say. Maybe this was going to be just like the game and all she was going to do was answer two questions before it placed her. She was feeling momentarily bummed until she heard what it had to say next.

"It seems your age isn't the only thing that is setting you apart though- now is it."

She froze- this was not part of the game. On top of that it didn't sound like the hat was asking, rather it was telling her that it knew.

"Do you know who I am?" she sent thought out, hoping that if it was somehow in her head it could also hear her thoughts.

"Oh I know and see much more than you could ever dream of. I see you've been given the chance to accomplish something great, and that all you need is already inside of you. I see that you question yourself and even who you can become. Well then if you cannot trust yourself, then allow me the chance to trust in this old hat."

She didn't say or think anything, instead she just nodded.

"GRYFFINDOR!" The hat called out its words to the entire hall.

As the mass of fabric was lifted off her, she brought her hands to her face to shield her eyes from what felt like blinding light. The room had erupted into cheers, the red table yelling out the loudest. Jane dropped down from her seat, and was literally pushed by Professor Weasley towards her seat at her new house table.

People around her patted her on the back and congratulated her, but it was all white noise. She stared dumbfounded at the space in front of her, and even the food she had dreamed about eating ever since watching the first Harry Potter film couldn't rouse her. She knew this was all some sort of dream, but man that hat triggered something inside of her that felt so... real...

[audie430]

can i request fruits basket characters (you can choose) comforting a stressed/overworked reader?

ofc! tysm for requesting :D

I hope that this can make you smile, if you need anything just lmk, dont forget to drink some water! xoxo audie

Fruits Basket characters comforting overwhelmed/stressed reader

characters included: tohru, kyo, yuki, shigure, momiji,

might do hatsuharu separately

Tohru Honda

SWEETEST ANGEL EVER

i aspire to be her🌸🍡✨️

anyways to the oneshot

this girlie trusts you w her life so if you say that 'you're fine' ngl she WILL believe you

It might take this cinnamon roll a few days but once she realizes that you have bags under your eyes, you're on high alert, and you're fidgeting.. mom mode is on

once she has a gentle grasp on your hand, it's over for you: she has won

she'll take you to her house so you can relax in a new setting

just pretend the boys aint there😁👍🏻

she will ofc cook you some comfort food of your choice, which most likely contains some rice

maybe she'll tell you the story of the onigiri and the plum in its back (i think thats the story lmao dkdnd)

after eating, she'll most likely lay your head on her lap and play with your hair (long or short) and just caress your jaw and maybe down your arms

just her touch makes you tingly, she's the master of relaxation

SHE WILL RUN YOU A BATH I SWEAR

some words that she would say:

"I wish you would've told me sooner, I would have been more prepared"

"no matter what, I'm on your side!"

"so you can relax now, breathe w me! slowlyyyy, yay! you can rest now, it's just us"

"there there, you can ask us for help. We're here for you"

Kyo Sohma

tsundere cat fr

he's shy but will help in his own way

he def does the little things that you don't think about:

like putting away dishes

and he's the one leaving a can of your fav soda outside your door anonymously

he remembers the little things and his love language is def acts of service, prove me wrong👩🏻‍⚖️

if its exam season, he will give you an extra set of notes or help you cheat somehow from across the room

if its another matter, he'll get the guts to give you a hug

lets just say he wont turn into a cat😃

i feel like every character would run you a bath before hand idk why🤷🏻‍♀️

he will take your turn cooking dinner and buy your fav fast food

if you're closer to him, you can hide in his room, he'll get you some more blankets so you can hibernate

he def gives those lil shoulder pats

and headpats too ofc

imagine that small lil smile when you start to feel better😭😭

some words he would say are:

"hurry up and feel better already, this aint like you"

"IF SOME BASTARD DID SMTH, I'LL MAKE EM PAY"

"you can let it out, its just me here yk?"

Yuki Sohma

idc I will forver pick this rat over kyo🧍🏻‍♀️

also my friend didnt like him until they learned his fam was rich💀

im getting distracted so anyways

HES SO KIND

if you overwork yourself and get sick like tohru did in the pilot, he'll spare his clothes

and yes.. run you a bath

i feel like he's the type to grasp onto your shoulder, firm yet gentle and he will tell you to take a break

he'll take up your chores as well, he wants you resting as much as possible

yes, its canon that he will help you study

he always gives you support no matter why youre stressed

always always ALWAYS gives you advice, he's big brother material

gives gentle hugs, the kind that linger for a while even after he lets go

the kind that make you want MORE😭

but he'll only give you a hug if you ask, he's smart but too dumb to realize if you want physical support

and when youre in your ✨️stress era✨️ he will have that soft, kind voice that you would use for a fussy child or baby

yes he will treat you like a child

some of his words he would say are:

"hey, hey, hey whats going on? why are you upset?"

"are you crying? was it kyo?"

"hush now, I'll finish up your chores. Why dont you take a bath in the meantime?"

Shigure Sohma

bark bark

will tease you if you dont ask for help

he won't be much of a help ngl

will put on a drunk uncle act and try to be affectionate w you

and yes it will be the most uncomfy experience of your life

get those nasty sticky fingers out from under my skirt pls

his love language is gifts for sure, he likes buying stuff🙄

hopefully its just some pretty tulips and not lingerie

I LOVE PINK TULIPS

poor tohru😔😔 that dress looked so pretty, i wonder if she ever saw it-

anyways he's not the most helpful 4/10

"heyyy, whats with the waterworks? did some boy break your heart?"

"don't worry about those other kids, they don't realize how special you are"

"soo.. i bought you a little gift"

Momiji Sohma

MY ABSOLUTE FAV

I WANT TO MARRY BUNNY BOY

ahem**

sweetest 2nd to tohru, will buy you gifts, help with your chores/work, take you out to the park, and will let you cry into his shoulder

he's like a quadrouple threat ig?

i think he would take you out on a walk, most likely

shows you the prettiest places fr

and then comforts you if front of the sunset

will use a soft voice like yuki to make you spill your worries

I FEEL LIKE HE IS SO SMART WHEN IT COMES TO EMOTIONS

he's the top of his psychology class probs

but that means using lil brain tricks to make you cry which is mean >:(

but highly affective👍🏻

He will kiss your tears away and tell you stories to distract you

holds your hand the whole time >>

some words:

"wah?! hey, whats wrong?? oh I know smth that'll cheer you up hehe!"

"shhh, it's all alright now. I'm here.. I'm heree. shhhh"

"rest on my shoulder, I'll wake you up when we gotta go"