#ANYWAY THIS IS SAPPY!!! but ill keep being sappy about it later

[variksel]

dungeons and daddies areas tour dublin live show highlights bcs i Can Not believe i forgot to post this before now:

-anthony going "hold on, i forgot something", going off stage, and bringing out his steam deck

-them doing the pledge of allegiance because "customs told them to" and eeeevery irish person in the crowd booing them

-a grenade got thrown on board of their boat and glenn IMMIDEATLY kicked it towards the nearest npc (he exploded. RIP evan dungeonsanddaddiesareastourdublin)

-anthonys dad fact: "i hate the english" got the most applause ive ever heard in my life

-NPC: "say sorry to me in irish. heres the google translate version of the phrase" ron: "this language is so easy guys!" "ahem. skibidi toilet"

-glenn did a rap break in the middle of the irish national anthem, he went "the socioeconomic factors behind the english fucking you guys over" and then did airhorn sounds. again the most applause i have heard since the anthony dad fact

-matt running a darryl vs. dolphin combat by himself for himself when anthony dissappeared behind the scenes again

-darryl accidentally killing a mermaid that was stuck in the motor of their boat and not telling the other dads. then later, when the mermaid army attacked them (by throwing a grenade on board, of course,) trying to fib that he isnt darryl wilson

-glenn, the boat owner/boat captain 🫡 (oh captain MY captain)

-anthony eating real life sushi off of real life william f. campos' dick

-will constantly going behind the scenes and coming out in different shirts, trying to convince different NPCs that he was a different person

personal ones because I Loved These ngl:

-anthony doing the sign of the cross when, during stuff signing, i told him i was cosplaying tony collette "in memoriam"

-i told freddie tony is my favourite character, then course corrected and said "oh well, WAS" and he said pretty much "oh yeah lmao"

-will fistbumping me after my partner gave him the fanart prints i made for the show (i was toooooooo fuckin nervous and they knew i prolly wouldnt have done it unless they had LMAO it was so cute of them)

-every cast member signing my partners trudy cosplays apron (an apron they had made for the show themselves!!! by hand!!! my partners so mf cool wtf u guys)

-anthony being. ngl so short that he had to do the biggest neck move in history to fit into most pictures and he did it even when he didnt have to lmao (he wouldve fit. just fine into ours without straining his neck but i dont think he saw our phone screen and he was used to it so 😭🫡 thank u king)

-literally everything from the show its been almost a week i cant believe it mfs we saw The Guys in real life!!

[nu1lst4rs]

doodled human designs for nightmares gang!

click for better quality

ggrahhb. i love them. will draw individual refs soon. promise. cross has jumped between nightmares gang and star sanses, and therefore is considered a neutral outcode in our au. so ill draw him later.

horror fws the trans community

Star sanses, neutral aus (p1), neutral aus (p2), extras

some headcanons under cut 3_^

warning there is alot of text

> nightmare (they/it)

DESI NIGHTMARE!!!! (this is blatant self projection.)

short. but they always manipulate their height when they're outside of their gang because they hate being short.

chubby because its ass is not used to actual food, and they have a really slow metabolism when it isnt negativity. and now that horrors "forcing" it to eat, they gain weight. fast.

intersex. not sure why i think this but they don't really have a sex, so. erm.

^ adding onto that their fluid in their expression. sometimes masc, sometimes fem, sometimes andro.

has those stupid ass hair curlers and uses leftovers for their tentacles

MATCHING NECKLACES WITH MY OTP AT THE CURRENT MOMENT. usually errormare or bsp. sometimes fluffynight. killermare if nihira is fronting.

also sugar daddy nightmare. its either rich as fuck or have no money at all. (this is kindve a crack hc)

> Dust (he/they)

leaning korean and thai mix for him. because i need to see more mixed characters.

wears pjs whenever he can. gets the most fucking stupid pj pants too. like hello kitty. comfort > style.

always dusty. mostly because he doesn't shower and smells like ASS, but also because they gotta live up to their name somehow.

TRANS MASC. dont care if you say its wrong. EVERYONE IS TRANS. (excluding horror and blue. allies!)

aroace spec 100%. most sanses are, but him in particular. would rather die than do any of the sappy bs. but wouldd love to have a partner. or maybe 3. wink wink.

"2 shorter than killer but gaslights killer into thinking he's taller

doesn't wear papyrus' scarf, but keeps it in his sleeve.

> Horror (he/him)

wanna hc him as native american. but i haven't exactly thought much about what in particular.

tall and bulky. after a lonnggg famine, horror developed an ED. where they stress eat until he's physically ill, or feeling less stressed.

doesn't need the bandages on his face, bur keeps them there because he hates the scar

little big bottom teeth. its something he developed due to the food conditions in HT snowdin.

as much as it happens, horror HATES having blood on him, so he wears an apron underneath his clothes and does the laundry often.

PROSTHETIC LEG!!!! it got stuck in a bear trap when he was in his old au, and alphys didnt really know what else to do. its not the best thing, but its reliable. killer likes to put stickers on it.

has a cleaver named maxine, and an axe called rex.

ace because i dont really think. yeah. gross. ew. intimacy.

> killer (he/they/it)

arabic. its almost canon at this point.

has a selection of knifes in his thigh thing if his magic backfires on them. favourite is its butterfly knife.

is legally blind. his ass CANNOT see. refuses to admit this.

acespec because like look at me. he can barely feel. i just think he'd love the idea of being in a relationship, and desperately want one. but know he cant be in one.

scars galore holy shit. is always somehow simultaneously sloppy and precise with his knifework. him and nightmare have a small rivalry to see who can get the most.

needs to have textures on his clothes. something to ground themself. like "oh shit we're dissociating." rubs pants aggressively. works for us.

transb... transverse...

also DID but this is hinted at in canon

HUh. okay wow that was alot. cres shut up about utmv for 5 seconds (IMPOSSIBLE) (I DIED AFTER 1 SECOND). anyways THANK YOU!!! i will post and draw stars and neutrals tomorrow maybe. just after some sleep because it is 2am. bye everyone 3.<

[trevisos]

no one look at me i’m being sappy abt xarrastarion. anyway i can’t stop thinking abt astarion embroidering little fragments of xarrai’s poetry or songs on his clothes post-game like the one that larian patched out of the description for his camp clothes. smth abt keeping them close to his skin always… the way he starts to learn who they are when they start showing him the things they’ve never shown anyone else and the comfort he finds in their words (despite giving them so much shit every time they wax poetic at him). i’m ill. xarrai calls him a hopeless romantic and he tells them they have no room to talk bc they’re a fucking bard. he stitches their words into the cuff of his sleeve in thread just barely a different color from his shirt so he can ghost his fingers over them like a talisman against the dark and the weight of his memory. years later there’s a love song xarrai won’t outright say is about him embroidered in it’s entirety on the inside of his winter coat where it lays against his chest.

[tetskuro]

hi gorgeous! could i be 🎀? your matchups are absolutely adorable and i thought of sending in one for myself because, hey, you're pretty cool and i just wanna see who i'm more compatible w shshsh. i would adore a long, romantic matchup!!! i'm a straight woman (she/her) and i'd love to be matched w a male character!! my ideal type in a guy would be someone who's attentive, and a perfectionist. i always work super hard to look good/stay good and i'd appreciate a person who does the same. i also want someone who stands up for what he thinks and isn't easily influenced yk? i like someone who keeps me on my toes and challenges me and motivates me to work harder. i love love love boys who take an effort on dates. i want a guy who listens to the similar music i do and makes playlists for me (id do the same duh) and writes long ass love letters, just because. i want someone who matches outfits with me and holds my hand in public. someone i can trust with anything and we can just yap at 2 a.m. about the most senseless thing there is on planet earth. bonus points if he looks tall and scary because like...yes.

i'm so sorry i ramble a lot but it's just like...unstoppable, anyways a tiny description of me!! i'm an introvert, even if i do not look the part. it's not like i'm shy, i just don't like keeping up w fake people if you know what i mean. i'm confident about myself and know what i want in life. i'm also pretty sarcastic usually and use humor as a coping mechanism. i usually tend to overwork myself because i want to be the best at everything i do. i also ALWAYS stick up for my friends and don't let anyone walk over me or those who matter to me. i love love love listening to people and offering them advice, it fills me with so much glee that they trust me with things like, i'm always here for u!!! also, i'm not exactly a sunshine nor am i grumpy? it really just depends on whom i'm around. i'm 5'0 feet tall, with brown layered waves and curtain bangs, and almond shaped eyes. i'm pretty fair ngl but super tanned around the arms (i forget sunscreen) and i have an hourglass figure. my hobbies are playing the guitar, doing ballet, watching sappy girly romcoms, doing my makeup, listening to songs, studying (sorry im a nerd), shopping and swimming. i do adore a good thriller novel too. ok, ranking the love languages wld be- 1) quality time (giving n receiving) 2) acts of service (receiving n giving ) 3) words of affirmation (giving n receiving) 4) physical touch (receiving) 5) gifts!! (receiving) sorry chat im too broke n uncreative to give any IM SORRY ILL SMOTHER U W LOVE extra info i saw the previous people give, i'm an intp virgo YAY i love taylor swift and the color pink (im the textbook definition of a girly girl) i adore english literature and have won plenty of international writing awards im so proud of it AND AND AND i think youre very cool and awesome and yeah. inserts bow emoji cause i cant find it. LOVE YOU TAKE CARE STAY HYDRAETD!!!! take ur time bb.

your matchup is...

sakusa kiyoomi

⭑ sakusa is a very attentive person and is always striving to reach perfection

⭑ incredibly detail oriented and doesn't like leaving things unfinished

⭑ you both work super hard and would definitely be able to keep each other on your toes

⭑ he puts a lot of effort into anything he does, so he'd plan out your guys's dates meticulously because he wants to make sure you have a good time

⭑ sakusa also has a tendency to overwork himself so he notices when you're doing the same; that way you'd be able to keep each other in check

⭑ i see quality time and acts of service being sakusa's biggest love languages when it comes to giving

⭑ i feel like the later into the night it is, sakusa would be more likely to indulge in random conversations about anything and everything

⭑ he knows he can always come to you whenever he's in need of any guidance because he trusts you wholeheartedly to listen to him and give advice on important things

⭑ sakusa isn't too big on pda but he would hold your hand while walking around or maybe keep an arm around your waist

⭑ with his dark hair and eyes and height of 6+ ft, sakusa can appear tall and scary to people who don't know him, especially with his mask on

⭑ he'd find your sarcasm amusing and you'd be able to get some chuckles out of him with your humor

⭑ i think he would be a fan of thrillers so he'd love your book recs and finish a novel within a couple of days

⭑ he finds your passion for english literature very admirable and thinks it's so amazing how you've won international writing awards? like that's a huge thing to be proud of

your matchup runner-up is kageyama tobio

[romijuli]

Like Tsuzuru said, he is going to die . 

Maybe this is divine retribution for taking a vacation when he should be brainstorming for the next few scripts. Screw what Syu says, breaks are for people not named Tsuzuru—

Kazunari mumbles something in his sleep, rolling further on top of Tsuzuru and forcing out what little air he has. See? Tsuzuru is going to die, cause of death: Kazunari Miyoshi, who’s apparently a very cuddly sleeper.

He manages to pry Kazunari off of him just enough to breathe; Kazunari rolls over again, wrapping his arms around Tsuzuru. Cool. This is Tsuzuru’s life now.

A hand ruffles his hair. (Oh, god.) “Tsuzu,” Misumi whispers, “go back to sleep…”

Tsuzuru opens his eyes, staring at Misumi. He’d honestly expected Misumi to be wide awake, ready to drag him and Kazunari on a triangle hunt at a moment’s notice, but he looks as sleepy as Tsuzuru feels. Is he keeping him up? Is he jealous that Tsuzuru is currently being treated like Kazunari’s personal body pillow?

Well, okay, Misumi doesn’t strike him as a particularly jealous person, unless that’s why it took him four years to finally get a Super Mister Triangle. So he’s probably not jealous. Especially since Kazunari doesn’t really seem to have consciously decided to sleep on Tsuzuru.

Misumi smiles at him. God, if Tsuzuru were a weaker man, that alone would be enough to make him cave, and then he’d be spilling his guts to the unwilling objects of his affection at 1 am.

Well, at least then Kazunari might stop killing him via cuddles.

Tsuzuru, instead, trades one ill-advised late-night overly-honest statement for another, grumbling, “Maybe if you get your boyfriend off of me, I will.”

For a moment, Misumi looks genuinely taken aback. Great, nice going, Tsuzuru thinks, you’ve upset the friend driving you home. He’ll probably have to call Itaru or Chikage—or worse, Izumi— and beg them to pick him up from wherever—

But then Misumi smiles again, not bright and blinding but something softer, and all the anxieties drain out of Tsuzuru’s head. “It’s okay,” Misumi mumbles, “I don’t mind sharing~”

And then, while Tsuzuru’s still processing that, Misumi has the nerve to roll over and, presumably, fall back asleep.

[snippet from third wheel, which started as a silly pre-vacation fic and ended as a sappy feelings dump after i got engaged <3]

man. what WAS my thought process for this one. i may have just been cuddle-starved?

this is a more broad commentary for the fic in general + my current writing process, but literary impasse has given me a true gift and that is that i've discovered i ADORE writing this funky little transition period where tsuzuru's, like, aware that he needs to develop better self-care habits but struggling to actually put them into practice. (god i LOVE writing fun transition periods. the early bits of relationships where the parties involved are still learning the intricacies in their partner(s)? glorious.) it's SUCH a neat little period of his life and it's really fun exploring the questionable mindset he's developed while acknowledging that he's, like, getting better about it.

i think this is the part of the fic where i realized that kazunari's "oh noooo they only have one bed...." could have just been something he made up, which WOULD have been pretty funny but, like he says later, he'd have been terrified to try that in case it didn't end well. instead he settles for pretending to be asleep to sneak in some cuddles <3 (had to check if that's confirmed in the text, yes it is, good on past chel)

i feel like i always write tsuzuru as someone who's down utterly horrific for whoever happens to be the object(s) of his affection in any given fic, idk if it's the projection or it just Feels Right. (i feel like this is EXTRA the case whenever misumi's involved, but that might just be because i've written a good amount of tsuzumisu(kazu) at this point.) anyway man is he SMITTEN in this one.

i also REALLY like writing misumi as the single solitary person with any sense in his head when it comes to romance, just because he has less anxiety than the other two, and boy is that true in this fic! one of these days i'd like to write a fic where one of the other two gets the brain cell. i keep joking that it'll be tsuzuru but god knows he would never.

But then Misumi smiles again, not bright and blinding but something softer, and all the anxieties drain out of Tsuzuru’s head. “It’s okay,” Misumi mumbles, “I don’t mind sharing~”

i remember adoring this specific paragraph. in general i love contrasting misumi's usual energetic expressions with softer/more romantic ones. also i just love tsuzuru looking at the two of them and going "idk what exactly they have going on but i think they're dating? i think? i don't actually know?"

and finally i think i'm allergic to not shoving comedy into everything i write. someday i will write a full blown tragedy and it will still contain tsuzuru falling down the stairs or something

[sonder-moon]

thinking..

sorta rant about aroace-ness under the cut i just needed to write out

been feeling very isolated as of late on account of the aromanticism and the asexuality. when i first knew i was ace, i was never really as strict with the boundaries as i probably should have been. i was a young teenager and ive never shied away from the topic of sex. it never really bothered me and i never understood the pressure and urges people around me might be feeling. i was fine with people telling me about great romantic relationships are. but i never told anyone i was asexual because come on. who among my peers who wasnt also on tumblr would know what that meant. typical awkward ace kid stuff. the problem is by the time i started telling people i was ace, the aro hadn't set in yet. i knew one nearly 10 years before i knew the other.

skip ahead to years later when i first knew i was aro (only about a year ago). now this was crazy. i started realizing i had way more to unpack and more boundaries to set. suddenly, i felt more aware of and repulsed by the romance around me. i felt more opinionated on the topic of sex. i wanted to stop humoring peers who told me i should start dating. i felt more annoyed at the idea that people might still think i had a desire for these things. but how could i tell them that? id had feelings i thought were crushes before. i loved and still love romance in movies. ive written and read sappy fanfiction for a long time. i like the concepts of love and sex in fiction, but not reality, and it's far too difficult to explain to most people that reality and fiction paint them in different lights. i think i see the entire concepts of sexual attraction and romance in such a wildly different way than everyone else in my life, and i know i can't put it into words for anyone but myself. that's probably why im feeling so isolated. i have no one to turn to for actual understanding (other than the internet). the term "romance repulsed" sounds too harsh to say to my friends who are in happy relationships. even in fandom, to headcannon a fictional character as aroace is seen as like the worst injustice you can do to them. what with all the shock towards the idea of "No Romance" that ive internalized for so long, it's no wonder i sometimes feel less like a person and more like an emotionless robot.

i never want to date anyone. i never want to get married. i never want to have sex. i can say it to the void on tumblr all i want, but saying those things in rapid succession to an allo will make their brain short circuit, make them look at me like i have three heads, or make them immediately try to change my mind about it. why those notions are so threatening and alien to them, ill never know. i just know ill never be truly understood in real life, and i have to come to terms with that. it's just that it's so horribly lonely, and for my own sanity, i have to keep quiet about it, because if i never tell anyone about this part of me, then i guess i cant get mad when they don't know.

i do LOVE being aroace. it's freeing and fun. i just have this far-fetched and crazy wish to be accepted without people adding terms and conditions onto me. i want to hear "you're not interested in sex or romance? ever? cool, i believe you." not "i cant figure out how your mind works, so im going to tell you you should try to be less confusing for people."

anyways. im not going to stop being so confusing. but i probably wont be telling everyody i know to stop talking about romance to me either. it's just not realistic. but at least i know myself and i know i can do whatever i want forever. i just want people to be normal about aroace people.

[aphrodict]

“gifts”

cw - mean scara becomes soft as always ugh ari stop writing him as a soft sappy mfsr👎👎, implied that childe n reader are really close friends idk why i had to include that

genre - fluff!!

pairing - scara x gn!reader

a/n - had so much fun writing this‼️ new challenge count how many times ari writes scara as a soft person, anyway hope u guys like it as well hehe, jus a lil post so u can wait for my matchups to be posted again <33 wc: 0.8k

your lover had been busy with his work in the fatui again. he had barely been sleeping or even taking care of himself. worried, you decided to visit him in his office with a few gifts. you prepared only the best of the best, his favorite food and inazuman specialties in small bento boxes, a bouquet of some flowers from all around teyvat that the traveler helped you pick, and of course— a note saying you two will be going on a date later that night!

as you walked over to the headquarters of the fatui, you heard many agents who are probably under the scaramouche’s care, let out a sigh of relief. you know that you’re the only one able to change his mood for the entire day, no, maybe even week. lost in your thoughts and without you noticing, another harbinger popped up right behind and scared you. “guess who!“ the male said in a sing-song voice. you faked an annoyed groan and turned towards him with a smile

“childe, did you need something?”

“no not really. i was going to ask if you needed help with, those”

he said, pointing to the gifts you were bringing for a special someone

“im fine! he’d probably get mad if he saw you hanging out with me again” you chuckle, remembering the last time how scara got so mad with you just having a friendly conversation with childe

“of course, ill never forget that time. do you know how LONG i had to listen to him scold me? talk about a jealous person”

childe let out a short laugh, patting you on the back

“goodluck! he’s been in a bad mood all week, try not to do anything risky”

“ill keep that in mind— oh and make sure to take care of yourself too, i don't want to babysit the two of you again.”

childe waved goodbye as you continue to walk over to the 6th harbinger’s office. the walk felt long yet short at the same time. the hall was dimly lit, and his office was just at the corner. taking a deep breath outside the door, you knocked softly, waiting for a go-signal

“the door’s open”

while entering the room a smile reached your face again, and you were certain there was one on scara’s face as well, though it was quickly replaced with one of annoyance. kicking the door behind you and quickly running to his desk, mumbling a hi and taking out the food first. at the same time, scara slowly took off his hat and placed it on the side

“you really didn't have to do that. im perfectly fine with feeding myself.”

“i know i know, but i noticed you weren't even eating much at home. so i took it upon myself to take care of you” you put one on the desk where he does his work, handing him over a colored dango. you heard his ‘tsk’ but took the food from your hand anyway

scara wouldn't say it, but he felt instantly better after eating.

“this is” he paused, taking another bite of the dango “—really good. where’d you buy it?” his eyes slightly widened. the more innocent side of him being shown

you pouted as if he insulted you. “i made it myself. well not entirely, i asked a few friends for help making the food and picking up the flowers while you were away”

“i see” he sighed and looked at you, the end of his lips slightly curling to a smile.

“thanks alot, really”

you chuckle, smiling as well. you’re happy to help him in any way, he is your lover after all.

“sure! anytime”

for a few minutes, all you could feel was a comfortable silence. right before the harbinger looked over to the bouquet of flowers you were supposed to give him

“those are for..?”

“you of course! you wanna know how i got them? whenever the traveler sees me, she just gives me a flower from whatever place they're from. you know, i was thinking of saving this for next time, but its better now or never” quickly handing them over to him

scara is.. not used to affection, at all. he was hardly given such words and actions as a puppet, so having you by his side— spoiling him with all these new feelings, maybe it wasn't so bad

he makes a mental note to apologize whenever he snaps at you again, you really don't deserve those words coming from him. maybe repay you back with a kiss as well

@aphrodicts-imagination : masterlist

[thingsarenotgoinhwell]

what's your ideal byler get together??

okay this is a big quest but ill do my best i think

warning a little angst

even thought the “ripping of the band aid” was fake will is definitely gonna distance himself from mike and leave him and el be. I want el to break up with mike like kinda mutual but i think mike would be upset and be like “I said i love you! what else do i need to do!” i want el to tell him he isnt loving her the way she wants to be loved i want her to tell him she knew he was lying in his monologue i think hed get defensive but later they’d talk and he admit and apologize and go back to being besties

for mike and will getting together i am a fan of will getting vecna’d but i think jonathan would get him out and kinda be upset or disappointed in mike and others for not knowing wills favorite song. after will gets out i want mike to be kinda quiet and upset realizing hes been a shitty friend he should have known and if jonathan wasnt there will would have died i think hed blame himself. I think mike would initiate a conversation with will apologizing for the way hes acted bringing up his trauma with losing mike in season 1 and 2. Will i think would be quiet but listening giving mike the room he needs to open up. I think mike would rant and vent not really thinking about what hes saying when hes done i think theyd have another

“cool”

“cool”

kinda thing (maybe a crazy together callback🫢)

the confession i think would come after a battle or some sort of climax (in this time mike has talked to el about the painting and had a kinda realization about wills speech) when mike confronts him about it will would be very defensive trying again to reassure mike and els relationship. and when he does mike says something like “this isnt about el we broke up anyway” and will would apologies and try to comfort him. and mike would say something like “its okay i dont think i ever loved her like i should have”

“not like i love you”(ik its kinda sappy but ekkkkkk)

will would be totally shocked and just stand there like

“what”

and mike would say

“i love you”

i think will would convince himself he meant it platonically and kinda ramble under his breath about how if course he means it platonicly and how could you even think he ould mean it any other way

and will would kinda be spazzing out and muttering and talking to himself and (im a sucker for the trope)

mike would keep saying wills name while he rambled and step closer to him and will would look up and mike would be like

‘“i mean it like i love you love you and im sorry but i had to tell you”

(ik most people want mike to initiate the kiss but i kinda like will doing it idk i love both)

then i think will would kiss him and it would really cute

this was kinda long a bad i am in no way a writer i dont have that talent but it was still super fun and idk if its my ideal or more my head cannon but it was really fun thanks so much for the ask!

[bountyhunter-s-bane]

Thunderstorm

Pairings: Cad Bane x M!Reader

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 1.6k+

Summary: Cad Bane and his apprentice hunter (Reader) wait out a thunderstorm on Ryloth. Neither seem to have much fondness for the weather (content warning for astraphobia)

---------------------------------------------

Your latest hunt brought the pair of you to Ryloth. Not perhaps the wide welcoming landscapes or the friendlier towns (under siege by the Separatist forces), but every planet seemed to have a hidey-hole for the less hospitable kinds of people, such as smugglers and bounty hunters such as yourselves. This one was a bar stuck into the side of a cliff and surrounded by dozens and dozens of ramshackle huts for refugees trapped on the planet, either trying to eke out a living or waiting for the first opportunity to get to somewhere safer.

Cad Bane left his freighter outside the outskirts of this shanty town, and instructed you to stay and keep watch whilst he got to business. As you were left sitting there and waiting, staring at the lack of scenery, you figured you would have preferred to join him at the bar. The air was muggy and heavy and the wrong kind of warm, all alluding to the thick black clouds gathering on the horizon. Where you were now however was bright sunshine, and to keep from melting you took shelter under the wing of the fighter with Todo as company. The droid kept up light conversation, both of you bouncing discussion back and forth regarding your latest job. This one was apparently meant to be person gathering over information gathering, something that Cad tended to interchange depending on the current prices going. Both were often available after all, and both could be equally dangerous and fleeting. But for now, you were waiting on your contact to gain the whole picture for what you and Cad would be collecting.

The clouds were almost overhead before Cad returned from his meeting, about as stormy as the oncoming weather.

“Trouble?” you asked.

“Our information and money source didn’t turn up on time,” he grumbled. “I commed him only to find out he’s not going to be in until tomorrow. Waste of time.” He turned and thumped a hand against the side of the freighter, face wrinkled up further from frustration. You remained calm, albeit disappointed as well. The waiting times between missions were often the dullest times you had to deal with. Being made to wait reeked of a particular kind of person that neither of you enjoyed working for, so long as they paid up at the end.

“So we stay the night, wait for him in the morning,” you said, folding your arms as you lean against the side of the freighter. Cad looked down to you, an expression of grim resignation on his face. Taking a moment to rub at the bridge of his nose, he heaved out a tired sigh.

“That’s right,” he replied. You watched him as he slowly sat down on the ground next to yourself and Todo, digging into his coat for a toothpick to start chewing on. His irritation was rolling off him in waves. If you disliked being made to wait, he hated it. Sure, he could be patient while waiting on a target to come out into the open, but there was a difference between patience and being practically grounded on the planet. As he stared up towards the line of black clouds, he felt a gentle weight lean against his side. You shuffled quietly into more of a comfortable position, thinking perhaps that the motion was subtle, up until he raised an arm away from you and draped it heavily over your shoulders.

“The view’s nice at least,” you commented.

“I can agree to that. ‘Least until that storm hits.”

 -

The storm finally broke a few hours later, the tension in the air about as thick as soup. Cad tasked you with going out and finding a place to get food from, which was much easier said than done when wandering about a ramshackle village. Eventually you were able to find a Twi’lek family serving out some wrapped up meals, a couple portions of which you obtained having bargained several credits and an hour of small-talk. It was difficult to bring in any information into this place, so people were getting what they could however they could. While the family seemed keen to move on, they weren’t going to risk getting a ride out with a bounty hunter and his apprentice, it seemed.

A sheet of rain cascaded down, causing you to flee back to the freighter, shielding several foil-wrapped parcels of hot bread and hunks of dried meat under your coat. There wasn’t exactly a kitchen or a section of the ship where a person would sit and eat, and so normally you and Cad would simply eat meals in the freighter’s cockpit where there were seats. Tonight Cad had set up a small burner for heat and extra light, over which you could hang up your sodden coat. With the majority dampness deposited to dry off, you handed over his portions in silence and plopped down into one of the seats. Raindrops pattered across the front viewport, filling some of the empty space as you both dug into the meal.

“It’s weird. It’s raining but still kind of warm”, you commented.

“That’s Ryloth storms for you. Be grateful for the warmth, it’ll get real chilly at night”, Cad replied.

Lightning flashed in the distance. You counted the passing seconds under your breath and around mouthfuls of food. Eventually the grrmmm of thunder sounded, but not before several other flashes of lightning had struck. The distant sound sent cold shudders down your back.

“Shouldn’t we be worried about the ship?” you asked nervously.

“It’s parked close enough to the cliff. Natural lightning rod. It���ll be fine,” Cad replied, hand-waving your concern. He trusted his own intuition on keeping his possessions safe, and so leaned back in his seat as he watched you sit back as well. 

“…I can’t actually remember the last time I saw a proper thunderstorm.”

“Don’t be sappy, lad. You get used to them, and sure get to hate them with some of the planets we gotta work on.”

“I’m not being sappy. I’m being grateful.” 

The lightning got closer, brighter. The thunder started to sound closer to each flash, becoming more harsh until it wasn’t a grumble and more of a CRACK. Cad blinked slowly, feeling more lethargic with the evening rolling in but still very much perceptive of the room. The lightning kept him on edge - too similar to a blaster flashing blue. He could see each flinch you made, the way you recoiled from the viewport in time with the loud thunder. It wasn’t the usual sort of fear he saw on your face when the pair of you faced a situation that had gotten out of hand, that sort of fear came with excitement and adrenaline. This fear was paired with a cold helplessness. 

“C’mon, get up,” he grumbled, getting to his feet and pulling you up from your seat as well, reaching out for the burner. “It’s getting late. It’s quieter in the bunk room anyway.” 

“It is?” 

“Yeah. Makes it easier to sleep and all.” For all his snark, there was an ulterior intent to Cad nudging you out from the cockpit. Discomfort remained in his gut even after moving you away, even now in the soft quiet where you relaxed. No rumbling thunder in here. True to Cad’s earlier warning, it’d gotten quite a bit colder, even in the cramped interior of the freighter’s bunk room. The burner was set on the holotable and cranked up, but that wasn’t going to keep anyone warm without hugging the little machine, and no-one wanted to burn the engine fuel for a cosy night if you were on ground instead of in space.

The silence turned weirdly heavy as you kicked off your boots and Cad draped his coat over one of the seats. You were already shivering from the change of temperature, and Cad wasn’t looking too hot either. By the time you’d set aside your jacket, you were glancing from your own personal bunk to the space that was blankets and leathers and pillows that Cad had built up for himself over time. While you were glancing at the bunk, Cad was looking at you. You were pretty sure you both had the same idea. And while you were hesitant to suggest it, Cad was anything but shy.

“Peh, get over here.” He grabbed your wrist and tugged you over the bunk. “If you got ill from the cold that’d cost us both credits and time.”

Your continued hesitation got you a firm nudge in the back that sent you teetering over to fall into the bedding.

“Kriff’s sake, that was uncalled for!” you snapped, much to Cad’s delight.

“Come on, you were acting like I was going to bite you.” His sly smile became a grin. “I mean, unless you-” 

“That is a conversation for another time,” you said, feeling heat rise rapidly in your cheeks. Cad snorted, sitting down into the bunk as well.

“Seems like the perfect time for this conversation.” Whatever response you had died on your lips as you felt a slight rumble through the ship, just noticeable enough to catch your attention. Cad noticed it too, the heated look in his eyes fading as the moment slipped itself into the cold room, and he settled in close to your side. 

“....So….” Your words trailed off.

“Just get your rest. And stay close to me.”

 -

Rain clattered softly off the metal overhead as the thunderstorm passed overhead. Sometimes you could feel another rattle in the metal of the ship, and you wondered whether it was thunder or your own imagination. Cad was fast asleep, but part of you knew that he’d be awake the moment something bad happened. He’d also managed to coil himself around you, contact generating warmth while one arm rested heavily over your chest. Possessive. Comforting. For all his grit and teeth (and you did think about those teeth more than you probably needed to), he pulled out stops to keep you alive and well under his wing. You’d noticed this protective streak with all his possessions, and wondering if he considered you as such. And really, how bad was that in the end, when he held you like this and gave you that smug grin that caught your tongue so often.

You relaxed and let yourself fall asleep as well, to the sound of the rain.

[sorryimanon]

Pairings: Bakugou Katsuki x fem!Reader, Izuku Midoriya x NB!Reader

Warnings: some angst, FLUFF, and our boys being the best boys.

In which they comfort you after a rough day or week

A/N: im sorry if Izukus section is shorter than Bakugou’s. trying to practice writing other characters. enjoy!

Saturday's are reserved strictly by the majority of the girls from class 1-A, leaving the guys to hibernate inside their dorms as they allow the commencement of girls night. You've never rain checked nor rejected the idea of spending  quality time with your friends, considering all the tribe's and trepidation's everyone has endured together during their time at the academy. It's nice to just strip away the stress and dip your toes in pure relaxation.

Unfortunately, you woke up with a bad case of cloudy thoughts. For the past week you've been carrying the weight of dread, causing your mood to drastically change throughout the day. You'd be having a civil conversation with someone one minute and then the next minute you're completely irritated by their presence. You've tried to balance it out and fix it overnight with the regimes you researched on the internet. A new sleeping schedule, healthier diet, yoga, and even went to the extreme of writing in a journal. It was all so cut throat and prestigious, nothing close to your liking. Katsuki made fun of you for it one day when he snuck into your room and read the many inscriptions in your journal entries.

"This stuff reminds of Deku. Always shoving his nose in that stupid notebook of his," he didn't care much to hear your refutes about Izuku. "Anyways, what's with all this depressing shit you are writing? You don't really feel this way do you?"

You didn't give him a definite answer that day. Only a curt "no" and he resumed rambling about his day like nothing happened, having you listening with his voice like white noise going in one ear and out the other.

And that's how it went on throughout the duration of the prior week before Saturday.

Inside the confinement of your dorm, you made the rational decision to sleep in instead of attending classes. The chilling thoughts kept you up all night, never once allowing sleep to take full throttle. You tossed and turned around on your bed, unable to shut off your brain. So when you woke up in the peak of late afternoon, you weren't surprised to see the unread messages on your phone. All of them were from your explosive boyfriend.

King Explosion🤍: Oi you running late? Mr.Sleepy head is taking roll call

King Explosion🤍: y/n where tf r u?

King Explosion🤍: fine don't answer me ig

King Explosion🤍: are you at least coming down for lunch? i made curry last night and imma make you finish it

King Explosion🤍: fking hurry before dunce face eats it

King Explosion🤍: nvm he ate it 😐

Katsuki never intended for the message to be funny. He's probably blowing actual steams of smoke through his nostrils and ears while chasing kamanari amongst the halls. The comical imagery made you laugh harder. At least he made you crack a smile. You haven't shown any emotions let alone a hint of enthusiasm for tonight.

Maybe it'd be best to sit this one out.

"Hey, we're missing a person! Where's my y/n?" Mina asked after scanning the group of girls huddled around on the carpeted floor.

Momo shifted uncomfortably on the cushioned pillow she stole from the couch. "Y/N said she wasn't feeling too well to join us for tonight. Something about food poisoning and throwing up every hour."

In unison all the girls gasped, along with a concerned 'ribbit' from Tsuyu.

"Well I hope she gets to feeling better. I wouldn't want her to endure such sickness for much longer," Tsuyu croaked out.

Everyone in the circle agreed and promised to pay a visit later in the night to check on you.

On the fourth floor, Katsuki stared blankly at his phone, hands shaking due to the repressed anger he's been holding. Each of the messages he sent previously were all left on read, including the one he sent an hour ago asking if he could have a cuddle session with you before girls night. Yes, even an ill tempered guy such as him enjoys sappy shit like cuddling. After pacing back and forth in his room for a solid 5 minutes, he was now dead set on confronting you in front of your friends.

Katsuki made a beeline for the elevator and aggressively pressed the 1st floor button repeatedly in hopes it'll make the process go quicker. He reached the commons area in precision time, overhearing the girls giggle after someone suggested playing truth or dare. He towered over Uraraka's figure, casting a demonic shadow version of himself in the circle. Hagakure shrieked and clung onto Jirou.

"Where's y/n you extras?" He demanded, voice deafening the brunette under him.

"She didn't come tonight. She's in her dorm room sick," Jirou explained to him as she tried pry the invisible girl off her arm.

"Like hell she's sick!" Katsuki spun around quickly and retreated back to the elevator, mumbling obscenities under his breath. "She's going to pay for being so careless and irresponsible."

The commons room fell silent once the explosive blonde disappeared behind the doors of the elevator, all eyes searching each other in complete shock. Uraraka was the first to speak out of the small group.

“Should we warn y/n that Bakugou is coming for her?”

Jirou averted her gaze to the direction bakugou left off from, a ghost of a smirk spreading on her face.

“Nah. Knowing y/n, she can handle the asshole on her own.”

King Explosion🤍: can i come over? i wanna cuddle, i miss u

The text message kept flashing behind your eyes every-time you closed them - a sad image of Katsuki waiting impatiently for you to reply back with a heart or one of those unusual memes he unapologetically adores. You knew he’d be furious, no doubt about it, but you rationalized your decision and concluded it would be best to avoid your boyfriend like the plague till this undesired feeling dissipates. Katsuki doesn’t do well with people being emotional, let alone handle his own emotions for god’s sake.

Your own thoughts were interrupted by someone raping the outside of your door. The continuous knocks made your head spin, a painful sting ghosting back and forth between your eyes. Remembering back to an hour ago, you messaged one of the girls that you weren’t going to make it to tonight’s session. Surely they respected your wishes and continued on with their hangout? But you forgot about the one person who’s persistent and stubborn like a cat.

“I know you’re in there y/n! You may have fooled your idiotic friends with a lie, but you keep on forgetting you’re terrible at lying!” Katsuki hollers against the wood of the door, not once being considerate of those living above her.

He’s right. You’re absolutely horrible at making up excuses for yourself. Dating someone as intuitive as him will be the death of you.

“If there’s something going can you at least let me in? You can’t ignore me forever y/n.”

Again, he’s right.

You slipped out from the comfort of your bed and padded towards the door, mentally preparing for the blonde to scold you once he enters your room. What you weren’t prepared for was the tears swelling up in the ducts of his vermillion eyes - his hands clenched tightly into fists as he looked down at you. Your breathing hitched when his arm outstretched to rest on the door frame to keep his trembling body steady.

“What the hell y/n? Why the fuck have you been ignoring me?! Did I do something wrong?!” He asked, not caring about his current appearance.

You grab ahold of his other arm and absentmindedly started rubbing it affectionately, trying to coax him into calming down. “Katsuki no! You didn’t do anything wrong! Why would you think that?”

“Because dumbass, you’ve been distant this past week,” he paused, choking on his words. “Are...are you breaking up with me?”

Your eyes shot up instantly at his horrifying assumption. “Katsuki, if I tell you the truth, will you promise not to make things worse for me?”

He tilted his head in confusion, but nodded once you led him into your messy bedroom. Once inside, your boyfriend plopped down on your bed, watching intently as you anxiously bit down on your nails - a nervous habit you picked up at the beginning of the school year.

“I’ve been feeling weird lately. Ever since the beginning of last week. I don’t know how to describe it but, my brain is constantly feeding into my already negative state. Telling me things I know aren’t true but I’ve convinced myself they are. Almost as if a grey cloud is hovering above me,” tears were already starting to pour down your cheeks. “I just...I just feel so miserable and lonely and useless and irritated and- I’m so sorry for ignoring you. You probably want nothing to do with me after this!”

You manage to turn away from the sight of the blonde during your speech, ashamed of pouring out your emotions onto a person who disregards other peoples emotions and constitutes them as a quote on quote “pussy”.

From behind, you can hear faint shuffling nearing your already shaken up figure. A pair of muscular arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you into a wall that could only be described as his own chiseled chest, doing the same as you did moments ago with his arm - lulling you to calm down a notch before he stared speaking.

“If you been feeling this way, why lie when I asked you a few days ago after reading your journal?”

“I know how you are, Katsuki. You get very uncomfortable when people talk about their feelings. So, why should I be any different?”

Your boyfriend suddenly maneuvers you around in the circle of his arms, shifting to where you’re now making direct eye contact with him. His gaze intense and unwavering.

“Because you’re my girlfriend? I don’t give a rats ass about any of these extras. When it comes to you, I’d make an exception for. I made that promise to myself when we first started seeing each other. So don’t think for a second that I’ll disregard your true feelings, dumbass.” He stepped a couple of inches backwards, ankles eventually hitting the bottom of your bed - making him fall and dragging you along with him. You landed on top of him, head still buried in the depths of his hard chest. The vibrations of his chuckle shook your whole body. Katsuki gently titled your head to be leveled with his, a red tint of blush painting his pallid cheeks.

“I’m being serious though. Don’t be afraid to come to me when things get tough, okay? I love you too much to see you like this.”

Next thing you knew your boyfriend stole your breath away by meshing his plump lips onto yours, hands snaking their way into your hair and carefully massaging it. By all means, you let him have his way with you by kissing the sadness away, tears puddling together cheek on cheek.

He let go eventually, pecking a quick chaste kiss on the side of your mouth before hauling you further into the bed. You settled on letting him spoon you, knowing how much he likes the feeling of your backside pressed against him, and the fruity aroma of your hair infiltrating his senses.

“I promise Katsuki,” you said after some time during the cuddle session.

He shifted in his spot, head placed firmly in the crook of your neck. “Promise what?”

“That I’ll come to you when these thoughts return again. I should trust you by now, and I need to not let these emotions ruin everything in my life. I love you that much.

Your confession swelled the very last evidence of Katsuki being a human being, his heart.

He smiled weakly to himself and nuzzled more into your shoulder, brushing his warm lips against the tender skin. “You better, dumbass.”

-

Today was just so exhausting, and the big fat 'D-‘ written in red ink on your final report was the icing on the cake. To make things even worse, Aizawa reminded the whole class before the exam that this was to determine wether or not if you'll be joining the training camp that'll commence the following winter break.

Hopefully this was one of your teacher's terrible deception tactics into making everyone do their absolute best, go plus ultra even. But to your dismay, he was indeed very serious of the matter this time.

It wasn't your fault, not entirely. You stayed up all night listening to another one of your boyfriends rambles, the conversation lasting till 2 am. Izuku grew worrisome and anxious ever since his encounter with a gruesome villain, thus resulting in him to pour his emotions out onto you. Poor baby kept mentioning the safety of All Might and you.

Solemnly, you left class and trailed back to your dorm room, wanting to ignore the jovial atmosphere inside the cramped room as everyone traded and talked about their scores.

Izuku noticed you leaving abruptly and got up from his desk to follow you behind, bidding a quick goodbye to his friends.

Your room was dark and dramatically colder than usual, a trickle of light threatening to pour in from the cascading sunset. You laid down on your stomach with one of your pillows propped on your head, in hopes to shield away anyone from seeing your ugly-crying face.

Too late because Izuku was already standing outside your dorm room, swaying back and forth on his feet while biting down harshly on his lip. He can hear your soft cries seeping through the door. He doesn't know why he's hesitating, he's your boyfriend after all.

Moments later you hear the acute sounds of someone knocking on your door, followed by the soft spoken voice of your green haired boyfriend.

"Baby? Can I come in? I-If that's okay with you I m-mean! It's alright if you need some space but you left class so early I figured something happened to you and I got really worried because you always wait for Iida and uraraka to walk us back to the dorms as a group and maybe it had something to do with what I was telling you last night-."

You crack the door just a smidge before fully opening it, revealing your bloodshot eyes and tear stained shirt to him. His breathing hitched once his eyes fixated on your disheveled state. 

"Can you comfort me? I need you right now Izuku," your voice cracked a little, throat still tight after the crying session.

His strong, lean arms wrapped around your body momentarily, encasing you into a bear hug. Hugs from Izuku were amazing, no exceptions. He placed a quick peck on the crown of your forehead.

"C'mon, let's get inside and snuggle. How does that sound?" he asked as he unwrapped himself and took your trembling hand, leading you back inside the dimly lit room.

Izuku laid you gently down on your side once reaching the bed, crawling alongside with you before  draping the covers over the both of you. His familiar hands snake around your waist and nudges you to roll over. You obliged and shifted your body to face his, sparkly green eyes staring straight at you.

"Tell me, what's wrong baby? Does it have to do with the recent exam?" his thumb started tracing delicate lines on your hips, your uniform long gone and now replaced with comfortable clothes instead.

"I failed Izuku...I did so terrible on the written exam. I kept falling in and out of sleep during the test that I didn't have time to finish the middle portion of it," you exhaled a shaky breath. "Who knows what'll happen on the practical. I'll probably fail that too...I'm such a failure compared to everyone."

Izuku grabbed the tender flesh of your cheeks and directed your vision to level with his. He looked angry and concerned.

"Don't say that y/n! You're not a failure! That exam doesn't determine wether or not if you're good enough to be a hero. I've seen you in action hun, and I know for a fact that you're possibly the most strongest person I've met in my lifetime! You're ambitious, smart, determined, and so freaking beautiful." He then kissed you tenderly on the lips, his eyes closing slightly due to the contact.

"So...freaking...beautiful." He whispers against your mouth.

His sentimental words were enough for you to push back the negativity and simply enjoy the intimate moment.

Izuku lifted his head away from your face to rest it against your temple. "You're going to do great things, okay? One failing grade isn't going to be the end of the world. Trust me sweetheart, I've had my fair share in failures during our time here in Yuuei. But look at me now, still standing."

You nuzzled more into his chest, tickling his chin with your hair. Faintly, you can hear the pitter patter of his heart beat bursting through his rib cage.

"Would you love me even if I was a horrendous looking-failure?" you were clearly teasing him, but sometimes Izuku became dense when it came to that.

"Y/n! W-Why would you ask that! Of course I would you dummy! I'd love you no matter what."

This time you return the favor and kiss him, knowing how to easily fluster him in seconds. He whimpers into your mouth at the sudden contact and cups your jawline affectionately.

The two of you stayed like that till the moon shone through the balcony curtains, illuminating your skin in a dusty glow.

Lips bruised and swollen red, you laid lifelessly in his arms, letting him wove his scarred fingers through your hair. Izuku would occasionally stop to peck your lips, then resumes his attention back to your hair.

"I'm sorry by the way. I shouldn't have kept you up last night before the exam. I'm such a horrible boyfriend..." he admitted suddenly.

"Yes. Yes you are."

He gasped and stopped his movements altogether, obviously taken aback by your blunt words.

You giggled and said, "Kidding. You're the best boyfriend. Apology accepted.”

After hearing that, Izuku shoved himself onto your chest and let out muffled cry. "D-Don't scare me like that. Almost made me have a heart a-attack!"

[stagbells]

Summerdew and Sweet Kisses

From: @daikoski

To: @strawberryaeris

Written work under readmore!

notes: hello!! i had lots of fun writing this, it was such a joy to work on! it’s my first time writing lacenet, so i hope you enjoy!! summertime love :D

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It’s date night, and Lace has full reign on what they’re doing today.

It’s less of a spoken thing and more a silent agreement that one of them can take the lead and decide what sort of day the two will share together. Whether it be cozying it up at home, or working on individual projects with the other close by, going hunting, or seeking out a new activity to share, most of everything is free game when it comes to them. 

To which, she’s deliberately chosen something new.

Hornet had mentioned one time, in idle conversation, that she’d never really swam for the sake of it. If anything, it was a shortcut, if she couldn’t easily cross the body of water with her needle and silk. That she hadn’t really considered it as a fun passing of time, a recreational activity of sorts.

Well. Neither had Lace, but the thought of it now sounds far more appealing now that they’ve both claimed better lives for each other, for Hornet’s family, doesn’t it? It’s safer now, and they’re easing into a life beyond just fine, but something good instead. 

And... there are plenty of beautiful, isolated spots within the land that Lace has seen, and what better to enjoy it than with her darling? 

And what a pretty little area it is too; a pond, hidden within the depths of a lush grove. hidden, but with evidence of prior life, if the cute wooden dock is any indicator. The surface of the pond is scattered with aquatic plants in little vibrant clusters, pearls of colour that sway with the breeze. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to enter the water, dear?” 

From her spot, with Hornet sitting perched on the dock, dangling her peets into the water and swishing them around in such a way that makes Lace laugh, before settling her always so composed regard on her, she looks nothing less than perfect. And also very wary of getting wet beyond that.

Cute. 

“I’m considering it,” is just enough of a not-response that Lace hums, a touch understanding, a touch mischievous. Ah yes. She’s considering it. 

Hornet has been sitting on the edge of the dock for almost an hour now, the two making idle conversation as they enjoy the balmy air that’s heavy-sweet with ripening fruits and bright flowers, hot to the point of being almost unbearable, but alas, she is still considering it. 

Such a shame.

Lace splashes the unsuspecting spider. 

Not a full-on wave, of course, she isn’t that mean, but as of now, a little urging on her part wouldn’t hurt, and Hornet immediately shields herself from the water. The top-half of her cloak is soaked.

“Lace—!” 

“Yes?” Her voice as innocent as she is not, she merely swishes her hands within the water, propelling herself back a bit from the dock before holding her hands out in gesture, as if to catch Hornet if she were to dive in. “My, dearest, do you need any help with that? You’re already halfway there!”

“My silk is going to melt, and my things could rust...” 

“A little water won’t hurt, but if you need a place to keep them, there’s a little nook over there that’ll keep them safe.” Shrouded by bits of sweet grass and soft soil, it’s a perfect spot to keep anything important safe. Besides, they’re both well aware that both of their belongings are far sturdier than that...

“If you had wanted me in the water so bad, you could have asked.” 

Kind of haphazardly, more deliberate than not, Hornet unburdens herself of all the little tools and trinkets she keeps within her cloak, before finally sliding into the water. (It’s a mess, but a mess that she understands and who is Lace to question that.) 

“There. I’ve removed everything from my pockets, and I’m here now.” Her tone is just a touch grumpy, though that’s easily dismissed with the way Lace can feel the faint stutter-rumble of her purr as she rests a hand on Hornet’s chest.

“Cute, but I think the little questions I’ve scattered into our conversation were not given much heed.”

“Maybe if you asked again...” Ah, now that is most certainly petulance. “You’re enjoying making a fool of me today, aren’t you?”

Hornet’s claws are carefully gripping her own, smaller hand, and Lace brushes the pad of her thumb over her now damp fur. The distant, light waves that carry them ever so slightly kind of pushes her to Hornet, and she can only smile wider at the way her lover’s claws go to brace her gently.

“Ahh, my apologies, I'm not trying to be mean!” 

“Really.”

“Mm. At least, just a little bit.”

“So you do admit it.”

“And you must believe me, dearheart, when I say I have no ill intent~!” 

Intentionally, Lace lets her mandibles curl in a teasing, honey-sweet manner that always has Hornet unable to look away for just a little bit, and she relishes in the attention just as much as the way her darling swats a wave of water her way in reciprocation.

Because even if she says it in a teasing way, going so far to jab her elbow lightly into Hornet’s side with a laugh, she hopes that the cute spider knows she means every word of it. 

Because she’s something wonderful, isn’t she? Direct in a way that’s refreshing, because how often is it that Lace gets to experience something like that? Sharp and honest (and even if she does sometimes struggle with expressing her feelings, she’s still honest) and it’s in such a way that makes Lace want to be the same towards her, be something more open, more real.

...Weird concept, and Lace finds herself laughing to herself, just a little trill of delight. 

Yes, but nothing could ever make her stop wanting to tease the spider. Her reactions are so cute after all! 

But, her sappiness can be saved for later. Not when there’s currently the cute culprit of these thoughts right in front of her. It’s fun to splash around and goad her dearest on into something of a playfight, one that results in the both being absolutely drenched, but it’s just as nice to relish the coolness of the water against her shell, and in turn be able to admire the many facets such a new experience has brought upon Hornet’s visage. 

Cute.

Such as the vague flit of surprise that had so graced the spider’s face when Lace had dunked herself beneath the water; not so many bugs feel comfortable doing such a thing, after all. Or the fond, subdued smile that quirks her fangs just so with each sharp banter that slips so naturally out. It’s nice. 

And when the sunlight becomes something a bit too bright and Lace can see the films of Hornet’s eyes try to flick up as she winces from it, she can’t help but bump shoulders with her, before drawing her hand over the smoothness of Hornet’s mask in an unsubtle way of blocking the light, for even just a moment. 

“You’re getting water in my eyes,” Hornet half-protests, fangs scrunching but looking so much more relaxed now, and Lace can only think of it as a job well done. 

She had purposefully made it so that they would go out later in the day anyways; noonlight was something so sharp sometimes, but alas, even in the evenings can the sunlight bother her dearest like so. They continue like that for a good while longer, idly floating about and conversing, one instigating another splash war on occasion.

It’s all fun and games until they have to get out of the water.

Hornet, the poor little thing, looks just a bit miserable as she works on flicking the water from the tufts of fur that lines her body, chelicerae working ever so slightly concentration. Well, it’s good she’s come prepared.

“Here you are, lover!” Easily tossing a towel around Hornet’s shoulders, Lace gives it a light tug to pull her spider down to press a little kiss and a nuzzle against the side of her mask.

“You planned for this.” Hornet is nothing short of accusatory, and she laughs, just letting a playful hum be her response as she helps tumble dry her.

“What, to trick you into the water so I can give you a kiss?” 

Could it really be considered such a devious plan when she was planning on kissing her either way? Endearing thought, especially since Hornet herself is the one to go through some length to muster up something as direct as asking for a kiss. Usually all she’d need to do is start purring up a storm to leave Lace as the one giving the kisses!

At some point, Hornet had cuddled up to her, both drying beneath the steady heat of the sun, but indulging in the warmth of one another for as long as they were allowed. Laying back onto the wood of the deck, peaceful and soft and warm, where the only sounds were that of trickling water and slowing breathing.

Despite appearances, Hornet can be quite the cuddler, curling herself as close as possible to Lace, little tail and everything looping around her as she dozes. Well, this is her fate now. 

She doesn’t have the heart to move and disrupt Hornet from a well-deserved nap, even if the way they cuddle always traps her beneath her weight. Not until the sun begins to fall, and the faint glimmers of the starlight begin to settle in, does Lace think of stirring the spider. 

This is the sight she wanted to share with her, after all. To deliberately take a moment and enjoy the sight the massive void above has to offer, with all its strange mysteries and stories to tell. Stories she only really heard as a grub, but ones she’s more than willing to try and scrounge up to share with her lover if she so asked...

“Hello there, darling,” Lace carefully nudges her girlfriend awake, and Hornet untucks her face from the crook of her neck. “The sky is clear tonight, take a look.” 

(There’s no teasing note to her voice—there’s no need to bring it forth, rather. Not when everything is so quiet, so subdued, and Hornet is still shaking off the last lingering bits of sleep from her eyes, looking so peaceful and comfortable that the sight brings an ache forth in her chest.)

(That this is something they both get to have.)

“It’s night time already?” Hornet murmurs, twisting herself to lay on her back, “Would you not get cold?” The sleepy note to her normally composed and cold voice is something so cute, and Lace leans in to give her a little nuzzle. 

“No, and even if I do, I have you, as well as the shawl you had weaved for me so kindly.” And alongside that, the soft, genuine fondness in her own voice is still something so faintly unfamiliar, yet so nice. She could get used to it. 

Hornet flushes a bit, perhaps at the prospect that Lace had decided to take the gift she had made for her along in case the night air became chilly, before letting a little ‘mrr’ of disappointment out. 

“I am not sure if we should stay out so late...” she begins, before gesturing a bit vaguely, “that, and I had mistakenly assumed we were to return home by nightfall, so...”

Ohh, are her siblings expecting her?

Lace sits up, and unable to help it, stares for a moment. It clicks. Right. They usually go hunting during their dates, two belflies with one stone so to say. 

“Did you leave your siblings at home with nothing to eat?” is her automatic question, more concerned for Hornet than anything else. Hornet sits up as well, adjusting her cloak.

“Not nothing.” Hornet frowns, but there’s a small smile hidden, tucked away beneath her mask and Lace knows she’s not truly upset at her question, “they’re most likely eating as we speak. And if they so happen to finish all of our food at home, neither are the type to allow the other to go hungry anyways...” so they could very well be hunting, too.

“Ah, but I can tell you still dislike the notion of leaving them without a fresh meal.” Lace points out, and Hornet leans into her side a bit. 

“...Yes.”

“Cute! If it so soothes you, my worrier, then we can take a little detour. I wouldn’t mind if this date takes a turn for our usual.” Carefully extracting herself from Hornet’s hold, Lace hops up with ease to swipe up her belongings—including her pin.

Hornet visibly hesitates—and by visibly, there’s the slightest press of her claws against Lace’s arm, just a light pressure as if to gently tug her back to her side—before she too stands. Not one to leave things undone, not one to linger, but oh, so it seems for the both of them, lingering is just so much easier nowadays...

“Apologies...” she mumbles, and whether it be due to cutting their plans short, or the hesitation, Lace hums affectionately to comfort her. “We could stay a little longer?”

“We can always go stargazing another day, my dear. And hunting with you is always a treat, there's nothing to apologize for.” and with a little nuzzle, the two are on their way.

(A part of her delights so wonderfully at the fact she’s come to pick up so many of Hornet’s cues; not when so few bugs can say the same, and it makes her preen with a silly sweet sort of pride. Hers, just as much as she is Hornet’s.)

It isn’t until they’re both following an easy scent trail that Hornet speaks up again, breaking that routine silence and looking beautifully dangerous in the moonlight, needle and silk carrying her onwards.

“...Did you call me your ‘warrior’ or ‘worrier’?”

Pfft!

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

...

“I suppose I’ll just earn back my title as your warrior with this hunt.”

[fernsplaysthings]

Another continuation of my YW x Crow fluff from here.

Definitely suggestive this time.

By the time Kestral had reached street level they were beginning to wonder if Roost was right and that this was an ill thought out idea. Yes, the conversation with the other two members of Fireteam Mayhem (and their nosey Ghosts) had been somewhat emotionally charged and had opened the floodgates on a rush of feelings that they weren’t exactly ready to approach in a measured way but they still felt the need to try and…

Kestral didn’t even know what they were going to say to him when they eventually found themself at the H.E.L.M. Not even just what words to use. They hadn’t exactly worked out what they were trying to convey. What needed addressing. Everything was fine as it was, right? They hadn’t felt as connected with another person as they did with Crow. Not since Artemis and Salome and that was lifetimes ago. He tugged on their heartstrings in all the best ways. They cared for him in ways that made their chest ache, their stomach flutter, and their brain go fuzzy.

Again, Roost wasn’t exactly incorrect when he’d suggested that perhaps those feelings ran a little deeper and in a different direction to how Kestral expressed them out loud but they couldn’t see themself throwing out the ‘L word’ on a whim either.

With enough drink they knew it could be a possibility that it’d just slip out by accident and ruin a perfectly good thing, but that could be avoided.

Did that mean it was true if they were more likely to say it while drunk?

Realising they’d now walked several times around the block to burn off their nervous butterflies and straighten out their thoughts Kestral stopped, hating the direction their mind had headed, and looked up towards the Tower. There would never be a good reason to keep guessing and speculating on these things while the solution was right there. Even if some of the fear was because somewhere deep down they were afraid of rejection. Even if a lot of the fear was because they knew that there’d always be the possibility they could hurt Crow in so many ways without even meaning to.

A little voice in the back of their head reminded them that they could trust the other Hunter with anything, this included, and that was exactly what they needed to get their feet working again to push them towards the Tower.

-----

Without their armour and weapons to hand, Kestral felt out of place in the H.E.L.M. It was a weird sense of vulnerability to walk through a place dedicated to battle, survival and strategy as a civilian when they’d usually be one of the larger presences at the wartable. Vulnerability was exactly why they were here though, and while admittedly of a different kind it did seem appropriate in a round and about way.

As expected Crow was in his shadowed alcove at the back of the main hall, perched on the bench nearby with Glint at his side chattering away brightly.

The sight brought a goofy grin to Kestral’s face as they approached, widening even more as the other Hunter looked up at the sound of footsteps and cleared the space between them in a couple of strides. Although he tried to hold back, to seem cool and collected as he stood before them, the softest look of adoration made itself clear on his face when he noted the other’s smile.

“You’re in a good mood,” chirped Glint, popping himself between the pair and looking from one to the other.

Crow pushed back his hood and rubbed at his neck, taming his expression enough that Glint probably wouldn’t tease him about it later, “It’s...nice to see you smiling.”

Their heart did something messy and fluffy at his awkwardness and for a moment that fuzzy feeling took over their thoughts enough to give them pause and cause Glint to take a longer, more concerned look at them.

“Sorry, just wanted to swing by and see you guys.”

“We’re glad you did! Aren’t we Crow?”

He’d gathered himself enough to nod, “Actually I was going to talk to you later anyway. Zavala’s got me doing some recon stuff.”

The fuzzy feeling subsided rapidly and their heart dropped, “Oh. Anything interesting?”

He shrugged, “I’m not really allowed to share the details. I’ll be off-world for a while though.”

It really shouldn’t have bothered them as much as it did. They were off on other planets and moons all the time and it’d never bothered them before. Not that they didn’t miss him before they got back or think about him during the quieter times but still…

“That’ll be Zavala’s way of looking out for you,” they sighed, that vulnerability seeping in deeper, making them want to tug their hoodie around them and hide, “It’ll be some good experience. Doing a bit of field work for the Vanguard and all that.”

Something about their body language had obviously given away their unease to the other Hunter even though they’d thought they’d hidden it particularly well. His gloved knuckles brushed over their cheek, pushing back the stray hair beside their face, fingertips running down their neck to rest his palm against their shoulder.

Despite the heaviness in their chest, the gesture still sparked a shiver across their skin.

“I didn’t want to head off without letting you know,” he added softly, “I know you do this all the time so it’s probably no big deal and...am I being stupid?”

Kestral’s chuckle was one of relief. It didn’t make up for the time they’d be apart - ugh, when did they get this sentimental? - but it was reassuring to know he felt similarly. They moved closer, looped their arms around his waist and looked up to meet him face to face. Crow rested his own arms over their shoulders, around their neck, instinctively returning the hold so he could lean down and press a chaste kiss to their lips.

“I’ll take that as a no?”

They laughed more confidently this time, “You’re not being stupid. I’ll miss you too. Always do.”

A mingling of concern and affection crossed his features and he pulled them in again to plant a firmer kiss against their forehead, only to tuck their head beneath his chin so he could rest his lips against their hair. It was sappy but there was something about being wrapped up in Crow, warm and safe, that put them at ease in a way they never thought they’d feel. It wasn’t often that the fabled Young Wolf felt protected, vulnerability be damned.

“Maybe we can spend some time together before you go?”

Eyes meeting again, Crow smiled, “You have something in mind?”

Kestral hesitated. No. No they didn’t. How did this work? What if it wasn’t fancy enough. What if it was too impersonal? Did they need to impress him?

“Wanna get takeout and spend an evening at mine watching movies?”

Oh no that was the worst idea. He was definitely going to…

“A quiet evening in, hm? I’d love to. I’ll bring snacks.”

Perhaps it was the heat that had engulfed their face or they way their heart was now light and fluttering but without thinking they stumbled over their tongue, words falling out, “You could stay the night too if you wanted…”

“Ooh.”

Glint’s teasing sound startled the pair, both realising that the Ghost hadn’t actually gone anywhere and the poor guy was front and centre to their awkward sappiness. Kestral’s opinion changed from ‘poor guy’ to ‘almost as bad as Roost’ when his shell flickered and his holographic eye morphed from smug to a cheeky wink. Crow didn’t seem to think too much of it, probably used to his Ghost by now, and rolled his eyes before settling his sights back on the Hunter in his arms.

“I’ll bring some snacks and a toothbrush then.”

-----

A movie and a half in Kestral started to wonder why they’d been so nervous about spending some time alone with Crow. Their takeout, a very large, very cheesy pizza, had arrived just as they’d started their first movie and Crow had made short work of scarfing back a healthy number of slices while immersed in some equally cheesy action flick Kestral had pulled out. They’d eventually settled back into each other, Crow reclined across the sofa with the smaller Hunter, their back to his chest, comfortably laid back between his legs. 

Somewhere during the second movie, something slower and a little more sappy, his hand had come to rest on Kestral’s bare stomach. A warm weight on warm skin but they’d still shivered when his fingers found the raised silvery line of a scar and traced it idly until Kestral eventually placed their hand over his to still it.

“Ok, that tickles.”

He laughed under his breath, sliding his palm upwards and feeling for other scars, “Do they all tickle? Or is this one just...new?”

“Not gunna lie, I don’t really remember. You get so many scars by being a Guardian.”

“Can I see them?”

Kestral paused, eyebrows raised in amusement, turning just enough to catch a glimpse of Crow’s face, ��Excuse you. Are you asking me to undress?”

A deep purple flush rapidly covered the Awoken’s face even on noticing the playful smirk that the other Hunter was wearing openly. They’d turned further in his lap, lying chest to chest and looking up at him expectantly.

“I…” he swallowed hard, “I mean yes. I guess I am...If you want to.”

Kestral’s smirk turned shy, “You know you can’t unsee this if I do?”

“The only reason…” he leaned down, pressed a sweet lingering kiss to their lips, “That I’d want to unsee anything about you…” Kestral pressed up closer, deepening the kiss between his words, “Is so that I could see it again for the first time.”

He’d barely finished his sentence when Kestral had let out a soft breath, a slight hint of a whine, and snaked their arms up around his neck to tangle their hands in his hair, to kiss him with all the affection and warmth that his ridiculously romantic sentiment had sparked in them. Crow briefly forgot all about the scars and undressing and the shy awkwardness, and focused on not becoming completely overwhelmed by the flood of sensations. Heated lips, the gentle tug on his hair, sharing breath, the long line of contact between their bodies…

Gently cupping Kestral’s face he pulled back reluctantly, “Sec…”

“Was that OK?”

He grinned dreamily, running his thumbs over their reddened cheeks taking in the sight of saliva wet lips and eyes that seemed darker with their dilated pupils, “Yeah. ‘OK’ doesn’t cover it, actually. It was great. Really great, and we should definitely continue but…” he shuffled to sit up straighter across the sofa noticing Kestral’s attention drop downwards and a wolfish grin spring across their features when it returned to him, “That. And I’m not sure if I’ve done - I don’t remember if I’ve done this before and I’m not sure if that’s going to make it weird for you…”

“It’s not weird for me,” they replied quickly, “Crow it’s been ages since someone’s seen me as something other than a ferocious god slayer and too legendary for something as human as...as…” their mind reeled with words, the one they refused to say, ones too impersonal, some that just weren’t enough, “...as connection. As emotional and physical affection. Even before that. This though. I like this, even with all the weird bits. Especially the weird bits. I like you too. Kind of a lot.”

The Awoken simply stared at them with the most open look of adoration they were pretty sure they’d ever seen, completely silent.

“Shit. Too sappy?”

His response was to move his hands down around their waist, tug them to straddle his lap and kiss softly from their lips to their neck, smiling against their collarbone.

“It was very sappy. And I think, if we’re on the same train of thought, we should think about relocating to uh…” he looked up to see Kestral’s barely restrained smile, “To somewhere with a bit more space.”

“Bed?”

The second they said it, Crow lifted them, their legs wrapped around his waist, “I wasn’t going to say that but since you’ve suggested it…”

“Crow, you ass.”

“Bed it is.”

-----

Lola had seen some shit in her life but walking in to her friend’s apartment to see said friend, half naked in a shirt that did not belong to them, perched on the kitchen counter with a man that looked remarkably like the Prince of the Reef - not him anymore, it was Crow now - also half naked between their legs having an intimate conversation…

Well, it topped the list of things that made her lost for words.

It was only when the front door slammed behind her that the couple looked up, Kestral like a deer in headlights and Crow looking very proud of himself, that they noticed they had an unexpected visitor.

It took Lazarus launching himself into the side of Salome’s head to snap her back into the present, dazing himself in the process.

“Uh. Shit, Lola this is Crow. Crow, this is Salome, a good friend and part of my fireteam. This is a bad time, maybe you can…”

“Am I gunna have to start knocking?”

Kestral blinked a few times, “I...would like that. Yes, please do.”

“I cannot believe this is being turned into an actual love nest. Last thing I need seared into my brain is the image of my fireteam leader getting railed on the sofa.”

“Lola!”

“It wasn’t the sofa.”

Kestral’s head snapped back to Crow, face cheeks and ears all a deep red and slowly creeping onto their chest, “Don’t.”

Lola’s cackle drew their attention back again, “Ok, he can stay. I’ll catch up with you both when you’re not all loved up and shit.”

“Might be waiting a while,” muttered Crow, turning his gaze back to the other Hunter and running his knuckles lightly over their cheek.

Lola loudly faked some retching sounds as she left, slamming the door behind her.

[bazwillendinflames]

Wish For You

Read on AO3 

For Matteusz, he had hoped that travelling to the kingdom of Rhodia would bring a better life. Despite a job at the castle, his magic - forbidden by the Queen - and growing feelings for Prince Charles, have only complicated things.

For Prince Charles, tired of living in a carefully controlled world meant to protect him, seeks a night of escape, with the help of the closest thing he has to a true friend. A night at the Festival of Souls provides them both a night of freedom. But how free can you truly be when there's a part of yourself you're always hiding? 

(AKA A loosely based Merlin Marlie au)

Part One - Magic

Matteusz did his chores by hand, even though it was so early the grand hallways of the castle were practically deserted. He had seen the fate of magic users first hand within his first week in Rhodia. Even almost a year later, the smell of smoke still brought back uncomfortable memories of the woman’s screaming. 

He pushed open the Prince’s door without knocking and almost dropped the breakfast tray as Charles let out a startled yelp. Matteusz was equally surprised to see him awake so early - it was rare for him to be awake before Matteusz arrived. It was even rarer for him to awake and ready, although his shirt was ill-fitting and old. 

“My apologies Matteusz,” Charles said formally. 

“I should have knocked,” he said, not quite sure whether to comment on the fact Charles was usually sleeping at this time. “Your breakfast.” 

“Thank you.” 

Charles began eating, in the delicate way only nobles who had their next meal guaranteed could. Matteusz tried not to stare at him, although he was more concerned the Prince had gotten himself cursed again than the other reasons he sometimes found himself watching him . But Charles’ eyes were the same pretty blue, no hints of enchantment or glossiness there. (He always seemed to get himself in trouble, magical or otherwise. Matteusz wasn’t sure how the Prince made it to nineteen without him.) 

“Are you feeling alright?” 

Charles nodded. “Why would I not be?” 

They may be friendlier than Mattuesz suspected a Prince and a servant were meant to be - almost friends (which was enough, even if a part of him ached hopelessly for more) - but he still knew better than to push it. 

“No reason,” he answered politely instead, busying himself with lighting the fire. 

“What has my Mother planned for me today?” 

��Strategic meetings in the morning, training with the knights in the afternoon.” The same as every Friday. 

Charles’ handsome face twitched into a frown. “How… lovely. What of the evening?” 

“No plans I know of.” 

That seemed to please Charles, although he didn’t let on why. “Excellent.” 

Matteusz didn’t pry. As long as Charles did not get himself into danger (again), he was welcome to his secrets. 

Matteusz started tidying the room picking up crumpled clothes. Charles may be polite and remember the names of his servants but he was incredibly messy. He could afford to be in a house full of servants, part of him thought bitterly. Still, Matteusz enjoyed his job, he liked the quiet domestic mornings and he liked being at Charles’ side. He was lucky to get a job at the castle, even if it was a little tedious at times and he was too fearful to use magic. The paycheck that funded his sisters’ education kept him going. 

A canvas was set up in the corner, still wet at the edges. It must have been why Charles was awake so early, although Matteusz would never have guessed he was an artist. It was impressive, a beautiful painting of the Rhodian town square, lit up with hundreds of candles. Only half of the night sky was painted but Matteusz could tell it would be a gorgeous piece when finished. 

“Did you paint this?” He found himself asking. Then, as it was an obvious question he added: “it is very good.” 

Charles looked over at the canvas, his expression pained. “I did. I can explain-” 

“You are very talented,” Matteusz interrupted, hoping he wasn’t pushing any of the unspoken boundaries between them. “Is it ever lit up that way? With all the candles?” 

“Yes, candles,” Charles said quickly. “It’s how I imagine the town to look at night. I have not been able to see it like that.” 

“I would like to see it like that as well,” he agreed, “you make it look magical.” 

“Do not tell the Queen that,” Charles said dryly. Matteusz stepped back from the painting guiltily. But it was clear Charles was not being serious, just another of his jokes that did not land right. 

“Our secret,” he promised. 

Charles smiled at that and Matteusz made himself busy again. It would not do him well to linger on the fluttering in his chest for too long. A Prince and a servant - especially a foriegn one with magic -  like him would never work. (But it was nice to imagine sometimes. But only sometimes. If he indulged in Charles' smile for too long, he’d never get anything done at all.) 

With the prince busy all morning, Matteusz found himself in a cramped corner of the palace library. Tanya always seemed to know when he’d be away from Charles’ side and had ambushed him half-way through doing laundry. There had been little point arguing as he was dragged around the castle, although he made a token attempt at protesting anyway. 

“Shouldn't you be working?” 

She hushed him, balancing another scroll on the pile in his arms. Matteusz was sure they weren’t allowed to access the royal library for personal use but there was little point bringing it up to Tanya. She was both stubborn and clever enough to get away with it. Besides, she was one of his only friends. 

“Come on,” she hurried him along. 

Matteusz followed her, weaving through the many hallways and servant passages of the castle. It had been an impressive sight on his first day but there was always some new pathway or hiding spot he was learning of - impossibly, it was bigger on the inside. Tanya had taken them to a small room, the size of a cupboard, with two beds squeezed in and a rocky dresser in the corner. 

“Do not let anyone see you here.” 

“I won’t,” he promised. 

Tanya pulled on the bottom draw until he came out completely with a creak. A dozen scrolls were hidden there. 

“Clever,” he noted. Matteusz had hidden a few texts of his own - old books of magic from the old religion, half-translated to Polish by his Grandmother. Under the queen’s rule, it was important to know how to hide. 

“Thanks. I usually don’t take so many, but it was so busy today. Everyone is preoccupied with the festival today.” 

“What festival?” 

Tanya looked up from her scrolls. “You don’t- I keep forgetting you’re new. Tonight is the Festival of Souls. All staff get the night off. It’s tradition.”  

“That’s unexpectedly nice of the Queen.” 

“The Prince actually,” she corrected. 

Matteusz smiled. “Really?” 

Tanya wedged back the draw with force. “Come help me finish my chores so we can go early? And please take that sappy look off your face.” 

Matteusz followed her smiling. Tanya may drag him around the castle but at least she dragged him out of it too. A kingdom away from Cela, he had found himself another sister. 

   “So tell me more about this festival?” Matteusz asked.

They were taking the long walk on the outskirts of the castle, carrying heavy buckets of water out to the stables. As one of the younger servants, Tanya was usually stuck with grunt work like that. Matteusz had only been roped into helping her out of his own niceness. 

“It’s fun. There’s live music and nice food. At the end, we light candles that’s meant to be our soul’s wish.” 

“It sounds wonderful.” 

“You’re lucky you get to experience it for the first time.” 

They crossed over from the cobblestone bricks onto the uneven grass. It was a short cut that they desperately needed - Matteusz arms were starting to ache. 

“Thank the gods,” Tanya said, dropping the buckets on the ground. “I wish they’d just install a pump out here.” 

Matteusz put down his own load and sat by her on the ground. “We deserve a break.” 

“Agreed.” 

“Did someone say break?” April asked. “Count me in.” 

She ignored her own duties of taking the buckets in and joined them. April was one of the stable hands who looked after the castle horses. It was a job that suited her - she was very gentle with them. Matteusz had even caught her singing to them a few times. 

“Are you coming to the festival?” 

“If the right person asks me,” she replied coyly. 

“Are you talking about a certain knight?” Tanya teased. 

They were sat close enough to the training fields to make out the figures sparring with each other. 

“I might be.” April waved in their direction. The knight in question, Lord Singh, waved back and was knocked on the ground. He did his best to style it out, jogging over in their direction. 

“Here’s your chance,” Tanya muttered. “Oh hey Ram. You know you’re meant to stay on your feet during a fight, right?” 

“Funny.” He smiled at them charmingly. “I wasn’t expecting my fans.” 

“More like casual spectators,” Tanya replied, although it was clear his attention was now firmly directed at April. 

“I think that’s our sign to leave.” 

“Agreed.” They stood up to leave. 

Matteusz smiled over his shoulder. “Hope to see you later April.” 

“You will!” 

“Should I be jealous you have plans?” 

Matteusz almost laughed. He had far more interest in him than April. (Ram flirted with everyone. It said a lot about how smitten he was with Charles that Matteusz wasn’t taken by him more.) 

“Just the festival later. You know the one you’ll be taking me to later.” 

The pair continued flirting as Tanya and Matteusz walked back in the direction of the castle. 

“Good for her.” 

“Yeah.” She seemed a little wistful. “Wish it was that easy for people like us to find someone.” 

Matteusz’ thoughts ended up back to Charles. “And tell them,” he added. 

  “My apologies, I didn’t realise you were back from your training already.” 

Charles was sitting in front of his canvas, a smudge of dark blue paint on his chin. “No need to apologise.” 

“You didn’t go, did you?” 

“It may have slipped my mind,” Charles confessed. 

Matteusz peered over his shoulder at the painting he had been working on this morning. It was now near finished, with the indigo sky complete and a pale moon in the corner. “You really are talented.” 

“You flatter me,” he replied. But Mattuesz could tell from the smile that he enjoyed the flattery. 

“Is it the festival?” 

“It’s close. I’ve not yet been able to attend myself.” 

 The Queen was likely behind it: she was a paranoid woman. (She had enough reason to be paranoid, the magical community had targeted Charles a dozen times over her policies against them.) 

“I can tell you about it tomorrow.” 

“You’re attending?” Charles asked, turning away from his painting. 

“If I am allowed to?” 

He nodded. “Of course. It’s funny, in ways you have so much more freedom than I do.” 

“In some ways,” Matteusz replied, thinking of the flow of magic under his skin he was terrified to use. 

“Could I ask something of you?” There was a softness to the Prince’s voice that Matteusz had clung onto. He had a feeling whatever it was Charles would ask of him, he would agree. 

“Anything.” 

“Could you take me with you?” 

Part 2 - Magic

Part of Charles had been hoping that Matteusz would have lent him some clothes. It was strangely disappointing that he hadn’t - his painting clothes had been women enough to pass as commoner wear. Although perhaps if he claimed to be cold later, Matteusz would offer his jacket, or the soft looking scarf he usually wore. 

(Charles usually didn’t allow himself to linger too long on Matteusz like that. There were a hundred good reasons not to linger on the way Matteusz had tenderly wiped paint from his face earlier. It wouldn’t end well, for either of them.)  

As if Matteusz could tell what he was thinking, he looked over (or down, more accurately) at him. “Are you alright?” 

Charles felt his cheeks flush. “Yes.” 

Matteusz smiled at him. Perhaps his simpler clothing was doing something good: it seemed like they were almost equals. Matteusz rarely smiled at him as much whilst he was working. 

“I can see from here.” 

Charles followed him, catching sight of the lights threaded amongst the trees and windowsills of the square. He had only been in the town square a few times before and never in under conditions. This was no emergency evacuation due to cursed wells or an unfortunate face off with an embittered magic welder. (Or, on one special occasion, a dragon.) 

The square was far from the state of chaos he was used to. The festival was filled with dozens of lights, meant to represent the souls of their lost family and friends. There were small stalls, with barrels of ale or delicious smelling foods. A band played music in the centre. 

“It’s so much more than I was ever able to imagine.” 

“You can try and repaint it,” Matteusz suggested. 

“Some things are just too beautiful to really capture.” 

“You don’t know until you’ve tried.” 

Under the waves of gentle candle light, his warm brown eyes were almost golden. It was hard not to get caught up in it all, so Charles forced himself to step away. He was still a prince after all, no matter how free he felt or how simple he was dressed. 

“Best not to. I don’t want to give us- me away.”

Matteusz seemed to get the underlying message and nodded. “Yes, of course sir.” 

“You know I hate that,” Charles said, hoping his exaggerated frustration would lighten the mood. 

Matteusz looked almost relieved. But before Charles could really analyse his expression, Mattuesz was pushing forward through the crowd towards the cluster of stalls. 

They stopped at a few stalls, browsing the various wares there. Matteusz picked up a set of two woven bracelets. A matching set. 

Charles swallowed back any jealousy. It wasn’t his business to ask who it was for, Matteusz was allowed to have a life outside of his work. 

“Best ale in the kingdom,” Matteusz said. He was talking to the old woman who ran the stall with an easy charm. 

“Flattery will get you nowhere young man,” she replied. Her accent was similar to Matteusz’ own - she must be from the edge of the kingdom as well. “Who’s this?” 

“A friend from the palace,” Matteusz answered. 

“Ah. Another unlucky soul?” 

Charles stayed quiet, mildly alarmed. Maybe his Mother was right when she told him there was danger everywhere. 

“But we have so kindly been given a day off,” Matteusz replied. 

It hadn’t occurred to Charles that Matteusz might actually want to spend his day off away from him. He couldn’t imagine any of his past servants doing the same for him. 

Matteusz paid for the drinks, passing a tall glass of a dark ale to him. 

Charles gave it an experimental sip and spluttered on the bitter taste. He was glad Matteusz was turned away for that one. 

They moved away from the stalls, crossing a group of giggling young women pushing past in the other direction, knocking their bags into him and splashing their drinks. 

“It seems like your disguise is working.” 

Charles rubbed at the dark stain now on his arm. “Yes. Maybe too well.” 

“Surely it is nice to be invisible for once?” 

“It’s certainly… a change.” He sighed. “Although if we could escape the crowd, I’d appreciate it.” 

Just a small comment had alerted him to all the unknowns in the crowds. It would only take one magic user with a grudge to cause chaos. 

Matteusz seemed to sense his anxiety and reached for his hand, navigating them through the masses of people into a more secluded corner. 

“Better?” 

Charles nodded, trying to ignore how his hand was tingling. (He had once fought a magic user who shot bolts of lightning at people. It felt similar - like all his nerves were on edge.) 

“I will get us new drinks.” 

Charles found himself suddenly alone, in a quiet corner at the edge of everything he had ever dreamed of seeing. He closed his eyes and let the sounds wash over him: endless chatter, musical warm ups from the band, laughter. He could still feel the warmth of Matteusz's hand in his own. 

This was a life that Charles could imagine for himself if he had been born common. Visiting the festival every year, not having to worry about meetings or magic or pleasing the Queen. Marrying for love, not power. 

It was merely a fantasy - and it would only ever stay a fantasy. But it was nice to imagine otherwise. 

“We have a good view of the musicians.” 

Charles opened his eyes again, with Matteusz now by his side. 

“Uh, yes.” 

“Oh there’s April.” Matteusz pointed at the dark haired woman holding a fiddle. “She works at the palace. We should be careful though, Lord Singh is with her.” 

“You know a lot about the palace.” 

“They’re my friends.”

Charles wanted to ask what that was like but he didn’t want to look too naive. He busied himself by trying the ale again, but the taste hadn’t improved. 

Matteusz tried his best to hide it but Charles caught the laughter behind his hand. 

“Are you laughing at me?” 

“No.” 

“I can hear you.” 

Matteusz moved his hand, revealing his bright smile. It was almost enough for him to be forgiven. “Okay. Just a little. I’ve seen you drink caskets of wine in the kingdom with no problem.” 

“They taste nice!” 

Matteusz took a long sip of his own drink. “You’ll get used to it.” 

They say in a peaceful quiet. They were positioned perfectly to watch couples dance to the music played. Now Matteusz had mentioned it, he could make out Lord Singh spinning the pretty musician girl. 

“Must be nice to dance without such strict rules.” 

“Yes,” Matteusz agreed, sounding a little wistful. 

Charles took a longer gulp of his ale before asking: “do you have anyone to dance with? If you hadn’t escorted me?” 

“Escorted?” Matteusz seemed amused. “You’re a little old for a babysitter.” 

…Which wasn’t answering his question. 

“But no,” he answered. “I had someone back home but I had to leave him behind.” 

Him. Charles tried not to overthink it. 

“Do you miss it?” 

“Dancing?” Matteusz asked. “I am not very good.” 

“Having someone.” He felt his face flush again. At least it was darker now and less obvious. He could always blame the ale. 

“It was nice.” He looked away from the couples. “I miss other parts of home more. Like my sister. I send her gifts when I can. Like the bracelets I brought earlier. She likes to make ones like them.” 

Charles felt a little foolish. “You don’t mention her a lot.” 

“I miss her,” Mattesuz replied. 

“I sometimes wish I had a sibling,” Charles confessed. “To share the burden of being a prince.” 

“Must be lonely.” 

He looked over to Matteusz, reliably by his side as always. “Not always.” 

  Wobbling slightly, Charles was starting to regret his second and third ales. It had taken them to finally pluck up the courage to ask Matteusz to dance with him. It had been ungraceful, yet freeing, to be spun around in hazy circles. 

“I’m dizzy.” 

“I’m sure you are.” Was Matteusz laughing at him? He found it more endearing than anything else. They had both let their guard down. 

“I wish I was normal so we could do this everyday.” 

“The festival is only once a year.” 

“Then I’ll make it law to happen everyday.” 

“Normal people can’t make laws.” Matteusz was definitely teasing him now. “This way.” 

“I’d run away after.” 

“You can’t just run away.” 

Charles frowned. “You did. You left everything you knew.” 

“Yeah. But it is different. They need me to be here, even if it's dangerous for me. Rhodia needs you right where you are.” 

“How is it dangerous?” He asked. “Magic?” 

Matteusz stopped for a moment and Charles stumbled into his back. 

“It’s okay. I’ll protect you from the evil magicians Matti.” 

“Don’t call me that,” he replied. All the fun sucked out of the conversation suddenly. 

Even in his inebriated state, Charles knew when to shut up. 

“This is a bad idea.” 

“Is it?” 

“This shortcut I mean.” Matteusz glanced over down the steep hill. “Not when you’re like this.” 

“I’m fine,” Charles shot back. He didn’t want Matteusz to think he was incapable of walking. 

“Wait, don’t-” Matteusz called, his voice the last thing Charles heard before he slipped.

   Charles had fallen down a hill, in the darkness of early morning, and woken up to the natural light pouring through his open curtains. He had expected the light to sting but he felt okay, minus a fogginess in his head. 

Matteusz was nowhere to be seen. He was usually on time for his duties, but maybe Charles had just missed him. There was tea and breakfast on the side, fresh clothes and the open window. Charles just hoped he hadn’t done anything stupid yesterday. 

(Charles could remember looking up at him, opening his mouth, a horrified expression on Matteusz face. He couldn’t remember what he said, which was somehow worse.) 

He dressed himself. In the mirror, he spotted a small scratch on his forehead. (He could remember falling last night. Maybe just the stairs. He was drunk after all.) 

Matteusz was still missing as Charles went about his day. He had done his lessons alone, then was served by a new servant at lunch. By the time his mother had her meetings, he was convinced Mattuesz was avoiding him. He let Councillor Ames speech wash over him, recounting the last night’s events again, trying to find where he went wrong. 

Charles recalled his face when he had called him ‘Matti', his warning of caution, then a weightless falling, as if time slowed down. That part felt even blurrier, perhaps he had hit his head, even if it didn’t hurt. In fact, he hadn’t even been hungover. It was like- 

“Magic,” Ames was saying, “is evil.” 

(“Magic,” Charles recalled himself saying yesterday, “but you’re not evil.”) 

“Yes, my lord?” 

Without realising he had stood up. It wasn’t just the councillor’s eyes on him, but the whole meeting room. “Um, I agree with the councillor.” 

“What was she saying?” 

He winced: the queen never went easy on him. “Er.” 

“Just go Charles,” she said sternly, “it’s clear your mind is elsewhere.” 

“My apologies,” he said. Usually being told off like a child would be upsetting, but there was already something else on his mind. 

Charles forced himself to walk out the room slowly. Once he was back in the empty hall, he took off running towards his room. He sunk into his bed, shaking, as the events of the night before finally clicked into place. 

  He had been falling, Mattuesz shouting something. Not for help, something else. Words he didn’t recognise. 

Charles had stopped falling, more like drifting, like a feather caught in the wind. The world suddenly slowed, until he had harmlessly landed on a patch of grass and wildflowers that hadn’t been there before. 

Matteusz had gotten down too, suddenly crouched in front of him. He had wiped the small scratch on his face gently and suddenly the bleeding had stopped. 

“Are you okay?” 

Charles was dazed. “You did something.” 

“No I didn’t,” Matteusz said, too quickly. “You just got lucky.” 

“No, it was you,” he had repeated, with clarity. “I was floating, it was like…” 

“Don’t say it.” 

But he had said it. “Magic. You have magic. But you’re not evil.” 

“I’m not anything.” 

“It all makes sense,” he had said, feeling suddenly sober, “all those fights we won - that was you. I thought I was special. I thought I was a hero.” 

“I needed to protect you,” Matteusz whispered. “I will keep protecting you. I’m sorry.” 

He had put his hands on his face and for a second Charles had thought he was going to be kissed. Instead, there was just blankness, nothing. 

Matteusz had made him forget. 

Charles had finally caught up with Matteusz after training with his knights. He had fought better than usual, filled with so much anger that he had even managed to beat Lord Singh. 

He had been with the same musician they saw yesterday, watching from a distance. 

“Let’s go for a ride,” he had suggested. The musician girl had been a stable hand and given them a horse each and they headed into the quietness of the forest. 

“How’s your head?” There was a forced playfulness to Matteusz’ voice. 

“Alright, considering how far I fell.” 

Matteusz had stopped. “I-” 

“I remember.” Charles stopped his horse and slid off him. “Have you made me forget other things?”

“No, never. I only ever used my magic to help you. Memory spells are tricky.” 

“You used untested dark magic on me?” 

Charles was starting to wonder if going somewhere alone with a magic user was a bad idea. If it was up to his Mother, Matteusz would be executed by the next morning. (He couldn’t let that happen. Charles couldn’t be that wrong about him.) 

“It wasn’t dark magic,” Matteusz said, “no magic is dark-” 

“Experience tells me otherwise. Magicians killed my Father.” 

“I know and I’m sorry that happened. But we are not all like that.” Matteusz stepped back, like he was the one to be afraid. “I will leave tonight. You won’t have to see me again. Please, don’t tell the queen.”

“How could you say that?” Charles asked. “I wouldn’t do that to you.” 

“You have done it to others like me,” Matteusz said. He still looked scared. 

“Is that why you didn’t tell me the truth?” 

“It is dangerous to be magic,” he explained. “I could take no chances.” 

“I understand. I have my own secrets. Even from you.” 

Matteusz didn’t ask. (He wished he would. Then he could do something. One kiss, if he really was going to leave, if Charles was allowed one indulgence.) 

“For what it’s worth, I wish for you to stay. I will keep your secret. You have saved my life so many times, I owe you that.” 

Mattuesz looked relieved. “Thank you.” 

(When Charles woke up the next morning, it was Matteusz opening the curtains and letting the light in.)

[2manyfandoms2count]

You can count on me (I will be there for you)

Hi, I’m Elle, and I have absolutely no idea how you can hack into a computer beyond the usual *typing sounds* “I’m in” you see in movies. I have therefore decided to leave Max and Markov do their thing backstage while I focus on a little mother-son moment (which there’ll be more of later, of course). Enjoy! xx

Also, small warning: there’s swearing on the last line. I think it’s justified.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | AO3

---

Chapter 7

Ladybug shivers as they step out of the Voyage portal. Chat Noir pinpointed a blind spot area in a corner of the Mansion’s lobby from which they could hack into the house’s elaborate security system, and Max managed to get all three of them in exactly the right place. Apparently Gabriel Agreste didn't think much could happen beside the grand staircase; remembering the time she'd had to transform there, the spotted lady thinks it's just as well.

While her travel companions huddle around Max’s computer to deactivate the cameras, she takes a look around the space, making sure to stay within the boundaries Chat Noir indicated. How Adrien managed to grow up into the warm and vibrant person he is, while living in this austere place will always be beyond her. Whoever thought that displaying a giant mourning painting in an already colourless room was a good idea clearly doesn’t live here. She supposes it could be alright, were the place a museum, but as a house? It doesn’t help the large volumes feel homey in the least.

“Alright, cameras are looped, we can move around now.” Pegasus closes his computer and stands a little taller. “So, what exactly are we looking for, and how should we go about it?”

“Physically, purple butterfly-themed stationary, and anything that could compromise Ladybug or suggest a tie with Hawkmoth,” Chat Noir lists. “Even though I think we have a better chance of finding the latter two on a protected file. It’s not like my- Mr Agreste to leave things lying around in the open.”

Ladybug nods along. “Where do you think we’re most likely to find those?”

“My best guess would be Gabriel’s atelier, and Nathalie’s room. She’s been keeping quite a lot of paperwork there, since her illness a couple of years ago.” Her partner shrugs. “And I think anything numerical would definitely be on Gabriel’s computer.”

“If that's okay, I think I'll try to access the data from Adrien’s computer, if he still has it in his room? I seem to recall seeing some links last time we connected to it, and there’ll probably be less security to bypass.” Max suggests.

“And less risk of leaving fingerprints, or anything that could make Gabriel suspect anything was touched during his absence.” Chat Noir muses. “Good call, Max. How about you go to Adrien’s room with Markov, LB, you go to Nathalie’s room, and I check the study?”

“Sounds good to me.” Ladybug smiles.

“Perfect.” Pegasus nods. “Should I detransform?”

“Maybe that would be wise. Let’s give Kaalki some time to recharge so we’re good to go later on.” She nods, and hands him a box of macarons she managed to ‘steal’ before they left. It’s not the Kwami’s favourite food, but it will have to do.

Chat Noir watches the both of them run up the stairs and separate at the top, smiling as Ladybug’s newest costume addition flutters with her movements. Tikki must have really liked the veil for it to stick through the transformation. It looks good, and it’s a good reminder that they don’t have all the time in the world.

He takes a deep breath and opens the double doors that lead to his father’s study.

The room hasn’t changed over the years. Some designers, Marinette included, like to sprawl their ideas out in giant mood boards, pictures, sketches and fabric swatches gradually invading the walls as their collection takes shape. Gabriel Agreste isn’t one of these people. The decoration is as stark as ever, despite an upcoming fashion show, pictures of Adrien pulled up from different ads, and marble statues seemingly being the only personal touches. The only real spark of colour is his mother’s golden portrait, at the far end of the room. He often wondered why it hung there, and not on the mantelpiece, or anywhere else in the room where his father could see it while working. He can’t see her not being a source of inspiration.

He walks up to the painting and swivels it to reveal the family safe. It seems like a good place to start.

“Plagg, claws in.” He whispers.

The dark figure swirls out of his ring and spins around a little, taking in his surroundings.

“Gotta say, kiddo, I’m glad that we’re moving out soon. This place always gave me the creeps.” Plagg floats up to the pictures lining the walls. Adrien can’t tell if there’s a hint of nostalgia in his eyes as he takes in the shots of him that were taken around the time they met.

“I thought the Spirit of Destruction knew no fear?” His lips curl into an amused smile.

“I didn’t say I was afraid, just that I didn’t like this place.” Plagg refrains himself very hard from knocking over, or straight up Cataclysming, Adrien can't tell, a frame showing a very proud Gabriel, probably at the end of one of his first fashion shows. “Anyway, what are you doing, detransforming in the middle of you top secret mission? What if your lover walks in?” He asks mischievously.

“She’s my wife now, actually.” Adrien grins, still giddy at the thought.

“I know, just wanted to give you the satisfaction of saying it out loud.” He grins back. “Consider it your wedding present from me; you get to be sappy for the day. Not too much, though, or I’ll end up retching on your father’s stuff.”

“Don’t worry, I’m sure it won’t come to that. I just need you to open the safe, like you did that one time? Then I’ll retransform, on the off-chance Marinette does decide to come and check on things.”

“No problem.” Plagg zoomed through the heavy metal door, and was back out again a couple of minutes later. “Whew- I don't know if it’s because I’m getting old, but it felt a lot easier the first time around. Got a little Camembert for my troubles?” He pouted.

“That’s weird.” Adrien frowns as he pulls out the cheese box from his suit pocket and tosses him a piece.

“Eh, I wouldn’t sweat it. It was, what? Ten years ago? More? I lose count.” The Kwami catches the cheese and gobbles it down. “Anyway, technologies have evolved since then, and you know your progenitor likes to keep up.”

“True.” Adrien replies pensively as they take a look at the contents of the safe.

The contents looks pretty much identical to the last time they’d broken into it. The same books are stored on the lower shelves, with a couple wads of cash. At eye level, the book about Tibet still sits next to his mother’s picture. The Miraculous Grimoire that had gotten him into so much trouble is gone, he notices, but he doesn't worry too much about it. It could just mean that his father is using it for his next collection.

There’s something else missing, though. He seems to recall that there was a flash of colour around his mother, but maybe he’s remembering it wrong.

He shakes his head to clear the feeling that it's something important as he closes the safe, and calls his transformation phrase.

Swivelling the panel back to its original place, he sighs as he takes in Emilie’s portrait once more.

“Oh, Maman, I wish you were still here.” He says softly. It breaks his heart, but the more time passes, the less he can remember her face. Sure, the paintings and pictures remind him of what she looked like, but picturing her spontaneously in his memories is becoming a struggle.

It’s actually this painting he generally sees when he thinks about her. It’s vibrant, warm, solar, just like she was. He wishes she could have met Marinette. She would have adored her, he knows. She would’ve treated her like the daughter she never had.

“If only you could’ve seen us today. I’m sure you would’ve been a much easier guest than Father’s turning out to be.” He lets out a nervous chuckle, and gently touches the painting’s surface. It’s something his father always forbade him from doing, but he isn’t there, it’s his wedding day, and one of the most important people in his life isn't there to celebrate with him.

As he slides his fingers over the elaborate dress, wondering if she ever wore one like this, and if so, if his father kept it, he notices that there are some spots which are smooth, almost cool, in the midst of the paint asperities. He frowns, and touches them again; they’re definitely metal, glinting a little in the afternoon light.

Tentatively, he pushes down on one of them. The button sinks below the surface, but nothing happens.

He tries pressing on two groups, located approximately at eye level. This time, there’s a slight whirring sound, and he feels the ground move under his feet.

He’s too stunned to jump out when he starts to descend below ground level, his hands automatically slamming to the sides of the tube, eyes widening in panic.

“Chat Noir!” Ladybug and Max burst through the doors just before he is completely engulfed by darkness. She’s pale as she watches him disappear, clutching purple envelopes and something else in her hands. Max doesn’t look too good either.

“Shit” is the last thing he hears as he travels to whatever dark corner of the Mansion the tube is taking him to. He's not sure who said it, but something tells him they all did.

[themysteryofwriting]

How about "hiding an illness" for kris from deltarune?

Just One Day

TW for unknown illness and some self deprecating from Kris

Kris was used to being the kid that was pushed to the side.  The second choice.  The one left behind.

It wasn’t like they thought no one cared, after all, they knew they had their mom and dad, and they had adopted them, even if they weren’t together anymore they both still cared about them.

And they had Asriel before he had gone off to college, leaving them behind.

There were a few classmates that tolerated them, like Monster Kid and Noelle, but until they really talked to Susie for the first time, they didn’t really have any friends.

They knew people cared about them, but they didn’t want to worry them.  So they didn’t tend to tell people when something was wrong.

Their mom did tend to notice when she wasn’t too busy or in too much of a rush, but even after Asriel left for college, there were times she didn’t notice.

But it wasn’t like Kris went out of their way to tell people when they were sick.  And it wasn’t usually a problem, even when they felt like they were one wrong step away from falling over.

It had been a while since they’d had a sick day, so Kris thought they were fine.  Until they woke up and could feel how sick they were.

Unfortunately for Kris, or maybe fortunately depending on how you looked at it, their mom was working on a big project for her class, and Kris didn’t want to bother her, besides it was too late for her to call a sub for her students anyway.

They’d gone to school with much worse anyways.  Kris pulled themselves out of bed and got ready for bed besides how sick they felt.

They just had to get through the day and then they could just head back home and sleep off this sickness.

It was Friday anyways, and they knew they’d probably be better by Monday.  They could do one more day of class. 

It took a bit longer to get ready for the day than normal, but it normally took them a bit to get out of bed so it seemed their mom didn’t notice as they climbed into the car.

If the drive to the school had been any longer, Kris probably would have fallen back asleep.  Fortunately, it wasn’t, because then their mom would have really worried about them.

Kris quickly said goodbye to their mom before heading to Alphy’s class and practically slumping in their seat.  They knew they wouldn’t really be able to focus on anything today.

“...Uhh Kris you okay there,” a voice asked from next to him.

Ah..right.  Kris hasn’t gotten sick since before they befriended Suzie.  Meaning hiding the fact that they were sick would be a little harder.

“Didn’t sleep well last night,” Kris lied.

They didn’t like lying to Susie, especially considering how much of their friendship hung on the fact that they could talk to each other, but they didn’t want to worry her.

Susie looked like they were about to say something when Alphys walked in and she grumbled.

Kris would never be more glad that class was starting.  Susie couldn’t question them more once class started.

Fortunately for Kris, today seemed like a lecture day.  Meaning that they could just get the notes from someone later.  

Because even if they managed to stay awake with how crappy they were feeling, they could barely focus on a good day.  

Today was clearly not a good day.  Kris could even feel themselves drifting off before Alphys even started the lecture.

They didn’t realize they actually fell asleep until they heard Susie curse slightly.  “Humans aren’t supposed to be this warm are they?!?”

“I-I don’t b-believe so.  I-I’ll g-go let M-miss Toriel k-know.”

Kris hearing that, startled...awake?  Were they already awake when they heard Susie?  They weren’t 100 percent sure anymore.

“I’m fine,” they muttered out, “Just a little sick.”

“K-kris I-I would say you were m-more then a little sick,” Ms. Alphys stuttered, “S-susie has been trying to w-wake you up for fifteen m-minutes.”

Fifteen minutes?  They had just closed their eyes for a second hadn’t they?

“Why did you even come to school like this Kris,” Susie muttered under her breath.  She was so quiet that Kris could barely hear her.

“I was fine this morning,” Kris muttered back.

“Yeah, yeah keep telling yourself that,” Susie sighed.

Just as Susie said that ALphys came back in. “M-miss Toriel said s-she’d take Kris back a-after lunch. S-she said they could r-rest in the nurse’s office u-until then.”

“I’ll take Kris there,” Susie said without hesitating. “I think I’m one of the few here who can pick Kris up to carry them there anyways.  I don’t think they’re walking in this state.”

Ms. Alphys nodded slightly at Susie. “J-just be c-careful Susie.”

Susie nodded back and without warning just picked Kris up, and kinda softly slung them over her shoulder.

“Uh S-susie maybe you c-could,” Ms. Alphys started.

“Don’t worry, I won’t drop them,” Susie said with a grin as they walked out of the room.

“Susie I can walk myself,” Kris grumbled, not really enjoying being carried like this.

“One, we both know that’s bullshit, two, you act like I wouldn’t do this even if you could.”

“Rude,” Kris grumbled.

“You brought this on yourself for coming to school this sick.  You know you have people you can rely on now.”

“...You know what I might actually be sicker than I thought.  I’m hallucinating a sappy Susie.” 

Unfortunately for Kris, Susie had just entered the nurse’s office so the timing was perfect for Susie to just drop Kris on the bed with no warning.

“Oops,” Susie said, a giant grin on their face showing that it wasn’t an accident.

“R u d e.”

“Anyways, I should probably head back before Alphys sends someone else after me.”

“Like that’s stopped you before,” Kris grumbled.

Susie shot another grin at Kris before their smile softened. “I wasn’t lying Kris, you have other people you can rely on now.  Plus if you pull something like this again, I will sic Lancer and Ralsei on you.”

“I get it Susie,” Kris groaned, just wanting to rest.

Susie nodded, smiling a bit at Kris ad left.

...Leaving Kris to realize that maybe...she was right.

[a-libra-writes]

okay okay idk if the request thing for headcannons are open but could you do 🏥💎 for Jorah

Sure! Doin a cut bc it got a lil long

🏥 Taking Care of Injury HC

Oh, you knew Jorah would do exactly this if you were ever hurt. First there’s the alarm when he notices the injury, then the exasperation when he sees how messily you’ve wrapped it, then the scolding as he inspects and re-wraps it. You tell Jorah you can look after yourself, and it’s not a big deal, anyway, but he isn’t listening.

You appreciate his concern, but the problem is he treats all injuries with the same level of concern. So when it comes to smaller problems, he gets fussy. 

When you’re actually hurt, it’s nice how he makes sure you get all the care you need. He’ll bring meals you like, try to make sure you’re cozy on the bed, do his best to ensure you get the best care. It’s hard on the road in Essos, but once Daenerys is established in Meereen, it’s much easier.

He likes to do what he can for you, and he knows about patching wounds, so Jorah would be very pleased if you came to him with an injury, no matter how small. 

(He doesn’t say it, but he’s not so sure about Essosi “healers” and witches, and that only increased after what happened to Drogo).

When you’re ill, Jorah fusses a little more, because that’s more worrisome to him. He can amuse you if you’re laid up with a twisted ankle, but when you have a terrible fever, there’s only so much he can do besides make sure you eat and have medicine.

It goes without saying his bed manner is fantastic, but when you’re ill, you need to shoo him out or he’ll seriously get sick. He’d keep sharing a bed with you if you asked. 

💎 Marriage HC

The proposal took you by surprise. The look on his face was so anxious, so unsure, as if he was going to deliver bad news. When he asked the question, you realized he genuinely thought there was a big chance you’d say no. He almost didn’t register the “yes”, but a moment later you were scooped up in his embrace.

You both had to stay practical in Essos, and it’s not like there was a septon at hand. Still, you two found something sentimental each of you could wear to symbolize your union. A forest green sash with an obsidian bear fastened around your waist, a woven bracelet with the colors, something that he could see. If you were Essosi, he’d tried to do something traditional to your culture, and if you were Westerosi,  he’d want to wear your colors, too. Just something to show you belonged to each other.

Jorah loves referring to you as his wife, and he blushes a little when you call him husband, both in private and in front of others. When you’re intimate, he’ll do anything you ask when you say “husband” in a needy, breathless voice.

Jorah would like children very much, but he also knows the life you both have isn’t the best for children, so he’s willing to wait. If you aren’t interested in any, he’s disappointed, but understands and respects that.

Honestly, not much as changed, you both were acting like a sappy married couple since the moment you confessed.

Being in Daenerys’ service, you both have a less than normal life (at least compared to Westeros standards) but you try to do “normal” married things like keep a nice home and have meals together. Sometimes he’ll joke about all the lords he had to see that day, and you’ll tease about all the needlework you did and the ladies you had to entertain. 

He doesn’t really want to tell you, but Jorah is sometimes in awe of you being with him and wonders if he really deserves it. He thinks about his first two marriages - the lonely and cold Glover girl who died before her time, the disaster that was Lynesse. He’d have very emotional moments where he’d wonder if you two were destined to be together, if all the suffering you both endured was leading up to this. He could accept his past failures if it meant you were waiting the whole time.

He tries not to dwell on all that, and instead focuses on your happiness. You have to remind him so many times that it’s not just about you, you’re a partnership now, but he wouldn’t be Jorah without all that doting and self-sacrificing.