go slugs!

ronisstheking  asked:

Dating Tom Riddle would include?

Dating Tom Riddle would include:

  • A lot of fights because he’s distant emotionally
  • (but he always gets you a gift afterward)
  • He always thinks he’s right
  • (and it pisses you off that he usually is)
  • Sarcastic banter 24/7
  • Being competitive about e v e r y t h i n g
  • (especially test scores)
  • Despite being slightly sour when you beat him at something, he’s impressed and it only reinforces why he’s with you
  • You getting jealous because of all the female attention he gets
  • (but he literally shows zero interest)
  • His followers know to respect you just as much as they do him
  • He makes sure to keep you out of all his darker activities
  • (even though you insist you can handle it)
  • Him being extremely protective over you
  • Other guys know better than to talk to you
  • Going to all the Slug Club meetings together
  • (and Slughorn always bringing attention to the “power couple”)
  • Having debates about anything and everything, even if you agree on something
  • (which you usually do)
  • Duelling 
  • (he lets you use curses and Unforgivables but he keeps things tame on his part)
  • (you’re never able to hit him anyway)
  • (which causes his ego to get even bigger than it already is)
  • He dislikes affection
  • (actually just being touched in general)
  • (but eventually finds that he doesn’t mind you sitting on his lap)
  • (or sex)
Coffee Shops and Scars

Request: “hello there! your works are absolutely amazing and I enjoy reading them so much~ keep doing what you do!!! I would love to request a soulmate au where both newt and reader can feel and witness each other’s pain and even fresh wounds on their own body!! (eg. if newt gets a paper cut, so does the reader at the same time) welcome to the angst train _(:3/”

Word Count: 3,434

Pairing: Newt x Reader

Warning: Mentions of blood

Requested by @ah-excuse-me but also tagging @caseoffics and @red-roses-and-stories

Your friend holds a bowl of popcorn out to you when it happens.

You curse and grab your arm, curling up and grimacing.

“Again?” Is all Maria says, placing the bowl back in her lap and taking a handful of popcorn.

You groan. “I’m going to kill this idiot when I meet him.”

She laughs. “You’re going to kill your soulmate?”

“Yes.” You grumble.

“Well, how bad is it this time?” She crunches the popcorn in her mouth as the two of you ignore the record droning on in the background.

You remove your hand from your bicep. A red patch of skin grows under where your hand was clutched, bubbling up in the center. You hiss at the sight.

“Oh, that’s disgusting. Do you have your medkit?”

You nod, squeezing your eyes shut. “How the hell did he get a burn there?” You mumble, reaching to your hip and unlatching the medkit you carry with you. It holds everything from tiny bandages to a tourniquet. The tourniquet was a joke gift from another friend when they’d noticed all the scars covering your body, but you’re not so sure you won’t need it someday.

“Leaned against an open oven?”

“With their upper arm?”

She shrugs, tossing more popcorn into her mouth. “Possible.”

“Whatever.” You dig around in the bag and find the bottle of burn cream. You’d bought it six months before and used half of it already.

Maria looks back to the record player, watching the disk spin. “You’re missing the best part of the song.”

“I’m sorry, I’m a little busy.” You spit. You’d been having a perfectly good night before your soulmate had to go and do something stupid.

You finish applying the burn cream when a deep cut suddenly rips opens on your left forearm. A trail of blood rushes out of it, dripping onto your blanket before you can grab anything.

Keep reading


Goddamn Camp Camp time to dump a bunch of art for my AU. Something’s Strange at Camp Camp includes a lot more paranormal shit going on, a slug Nessie, 90% more Daniel, unicorns, ghosts, a werewolf, maybe Nuckelavee eventually, and other fun stuff(like breaking Daniel, that’ll be oodles of fun).

Myeh, too lazy to dump more info on the AU, guess I’ll save it for another post.


A1: Slug, I release you from imprisonment in a child’s body. And now I would like to ask a question, according to the latest answers, do you still feel some kind of “cloudy” love for the White Hat? Or are you just very close acquaintances? Dr. Slug: … White Hat: huh? Dr. Slug: Go to the fog! Yes, I do not feel anything to him! He’s just my boss! And that’s it! White Hat: I’m sorry, Doctor … But it hurts a little. Dr. Slug: Yes, shut up already …

(anon please)

I don’t think Hermione should have attacked Ron with birds, but Ron and Hermione just talked about going to the Slug club together, and she told him she was going to ask him, and he said he didn’t want her to ask anyone else. Harry saw they were having a moment, and even thought on how he felt about them going out. that scene was not made out to be a “just casual friends agreeing to go to the dance.”

But then Ron hears that Hermione kissed Krum, and he “treats a bewildered and hurt Hermione with an icy, sneering indifference.” He dates Lavender and makes out with her in the common room, where Hermione is. He had no right to be mad at her for getting kissed when she was single, it happened a long time ago too.

Harry thinks he couldn’t tell Hermione that the reason Ron was so mad, was about a kiss that happened so long ago. Ron was so jealous and angry that she kissed another boy, even though she was single, that he dropped their plans to go to the dance together, without any warning and started dating Lavender.

I don’t think Ron is a bad person, and he has a right to date who he wants, but he can be spiteful and jealous, and this was one of those times.

There was something growing between Ron and Hermione before he knew about the kiss with Krum, and the part where they spoke about the dance showed that, but Ron let his jealousy get in the way, and he went to Lavender out of anger toward Hermione, and I think for Ginny too, because he was mad she got on him for having a go at people over kissing. So yes Hermione should not have attacked him with birds, but Ron should not have done what he did to Hermione either. it was underhanded and cruel.

Worried Lip Drabble

Request: “You haven’t slept for days, have you?” With Lip please? 💗
“You haven’t slept for days, have you?” With worried boyfriend Lip pretty pleaaaaassssseee!!!!!

You rubbed at your eyes as they threatened to shut but you were determined to stay awake; you had been having your nightmares again and every time you shut your eyes they came rushing back to you.

One of the only things that helped you sleep was your boyfriend Lip, but he had been so busy the last few days that you just hadn’t slept. Even if you nodded off you woke up in a cold sweat with your heart feeling like it was going to explode.

You slugged down your coffee as the door to your apartment opened and in walked Lip; you smiled weakly at him, but he knew what was going on. He could tell by the bags on your eyes that it had been happening again.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He whispered quietly as he walked over to you and put his strong arms around you, “You haven’t slept for days, have you?”

You just shrugged to try and play it off like it was no big deal, but you both knew that was a lie.

As soon as Lip gave you his worried look you broke. You started crying and clung onto him, “You’ve been so busy. I didn’t want to distract you from work or anything. I’m sorry.”

Lip sighed, “Baby girl, I will always make time for you. Especially for you to get sleep. Let’s go to bed.” It was only 2 in the afternoon but you both knew you needed it.

You followed Lip to your bedroom and your heart raced at the sight of it. The thought of sleeping was terrifying to you. Lip squeezed your hand and helped you into bed. He collected you into his arms and you slowly closed your eyes.

He stroked your hair which caused your heart to slow down and after some time of being back in the arms of Lip Gallagher you drifted off into a deep sleep.

anonymous asked:

Ahhhhhhh , your drawing style is soooo cute especially WH , but slug ummmm he's cute i guess ? * runs as fast as they can * you know what he can go fuck him self , wht i'm sayig go fuck slug

Well thank you but I don’t think that’s very-


A Blue Prince To Own, Chapter 13

Several apology gifts are bestowed upon me and I’m pretty unimpressed with the lot of them. Gold jewelry, big feasts, and fancy clothes. Does he think it’ll be that easy?

The one that wraps a red hand around my blue heart is the only one that lives.

A little grey kitten with huge, wide green eyes, three of them. She doesn’t seem to like me very much, bites my hand with her tiny kitten fangs, paws at me with little cat toes that don’t have claws, and stays as humanly (kittenly?) far away as possible from me when she isn’t bent on my destruction. But, when night falls, there’s a warmth against my chest and a tiny nose sniffing at my face before purring radiates from a tiny body cuddled close to me.

Somehow, I start to get attached to her as the quintessence withdrawal begins to mess with both my mind and my body.

The restless sleep shows clear in my face and I haven’t been able to eat, all forms of appetite vanishing. Even if I do eat, it doesn’t usually stay down for long. The thought of food makes my stomach hurt. It all tastes like mud now. Lotor keeps apologizing and promising that it will all pass soon enough, but my thoughts keep getting darker, my mood keeps sinking lower and the purple isn’t slinking away from my insides. When I run a finger over the edges of my teeth, it comes away red and pulsing with hot pain.

As much as Lotor loves me, I know it’s too late for this to be undone and I’m just not sure if I can forgive that. Even if I tell him so, he loves me endlessly and unconditionally, which hurts more than my hunger pains. He tells me he understands if I’d like to go away. I’m feeling less human than Keith, as I reflect on the awful ways I’ve behaved. The downright nasty things I said to my teammates. Was it the quintessence? Or was it an amplifier of the bottled up emotions that already existed, that I’d kicked beneath the rug so easily, just thinking it was more sadness I shouldn’t show? Everything’s… confusing.

“My love,” Lotor says as I sit at the table, not even glancing at my meal (the one I’d requested, it just doesn’t look good anymore), “I… Please eat.”

My stomach growls and I try a sip of some red space juice and my entire tongue erodes. I grimace. “I’m trying. It hurts. If it was my choice, you know I would.” I smile and it feels forced. “I’m tired.”

God, I’m so tired.

“… Very well.” He says, shoulders slumping in a defeated way I’m just not used to. “I dread that you’re falling into a state worse than that of the one you were in at the castle of lions. I know I have no one to blame but myself, I just… wish I knew how to fix my mistakes.”

“Hey, it’ll probably work itself out.” Deep down, I know it won’t. How can something this knotted up ever become untangled? “Don’t worry about me so much, Princey. I’m livin’ like a king here! I’m just a little sick.”

Except, my sickness is much more serious than the cold or the flu. It’s trickling into my brain and distorting everything. Dreams play on repeat over and over of horrifying scenes, of red on my hands and a stomach that’s full of something gruesome. Hammy follows me around obediently around week five of my slow decay and she doesn’t bite me as much as she used to. Maybe she senses that my demise is near and is treating me a little better because of it. Or maybe it’s because I let her eat off my plate now.

We’re going to meet with some leader of some nation that Lotor has been in alliance with since the beginning of this grim war. Voltron and the Blade of Marmora has been believed to be frequenting this planet for supplies, information and to flush out the Galra soldiers stationed there. My head is foggy, so I don’t understand the details. Lotor says they’re traitors, and as his second, I’m obligated to at least come along. Sucks I got too sick to continue learning about the Galra Empire. I was getting pretty good at the job I’d demanded.

“Queen Jarom,” Lotor greets curtly, “it’s nice to see you again. Your planet has grown nicely since my last visit.”

“Yes.” the queen agrees with a polite smile. “Even our once dry socket oceans are filled again with aquatic life and ample underwater volcanoes.”

“The water is really beautiful.” I butt in with a grin. “And even my planet’s sea creatures aren’t as amazing as the ones Pora homes.”

“Thank you for your compliment, uh,” Her eyes flicker away from mine, “C-Consort Lance.”

I hum. “It just mad blows that it’s too deadly to swim in. You’d think the giant sea slugs would go extinct from like, thirty turns of there hardly being an ocean to inhabit.”

“Indeed! But, miraculously, they have survived the enormous drought and devour - ”

“Well, that’s all extremely interesting and I would love to hear more about it.” Lotor’s eyes flicker from me to the queen and turn cold and predatory in a heartbeat. Calculating in a way that I wonder how he could have ever been so pliant to me. “After we discuss the matter at hand.”

I’m too tired to stay awake during the conference, so I take a small nap in a branch of the Earthy castle that’s kept off limits save for those associated with those of royal status. The bed is too solid to sleep on, so I settle for laying the pillows along the window sill and fade in and out with Hammy resting on the hollow of my stomach as I stare out at the foreign planet. I’d seen it from afar many times, but up close… it was much like earth. So much like Varadero beach. From this angle, I couldn’t see the ocean but I had seen it when we arrived. It really was beautiful.

“Hammy, do you think I’m gonna die?” I ask the small cat, who yawns and kneads my chest as she repositions. Well. Guess I wasn’t really expecting an answer.

“I… want to apologize to Voltron before I kick the bucket.” I sigh, pressing my cheek to the pink tinted glass. “I want to tell Keith that nothing was his fault, that I was a jerk, that Hunk doesn’t need to always put me before others just because we’re friends, I just… there’s so much I want to say. But, do I even deserve any of that? I was horrible. I definitely wouldn’t have been like that it I wasn’t eating quintessence, but… a part of me just wanted them to hurt. And I’m selfish for that.”

Just say sorry, then. You’re blowing it out of proportion, you pussy.

I pterodactyl screech and jump, nearly flinging Hammy into the wall. “Holy shit!” I grab my hair, eyes frantic and suddenly awake. Hammy yowls and saunters over to me, batting at my legs with her soft cat feet, which seems to be her equivalent to clawing. It doesn’t hurt, though.

Now, you might think, ‘Oh, Lance, you dum dum, that’s just Blue telling you to man the hell up.’ The only problem with that is while Blue doesn’t exactly have any distinguishable voice, she’s just passing thoughts and loose threads (in some extreme cases, a strong emotion that makes me feel impulsed to do something), that wasn’t her and I could tell. With Blue, she’s a presence in the back of your head at all time. Like a birthmark beneath your clothes or a piercing in an unconventional place. You know she’s there, but she isn’t always such a strong presence. She’s just there.

Eventually, I have to let go of it because there just isn’t anyone here. Was I just… was it just a voice in my head? One that I created? Is this quintessence withdrawal finally driving me insane and unraveling my entire mind? Or is someone poking around in there?

The conference ends up longer than I thought it would be and when the two emerge, I have to wonder what happened in that room. Neither speak a word, both looking straight ahead with neutral faces.

Apparently, there hadn’t been a compromise or any terms of agreement, no revising of the treaty that bound Pora into an alliance. They had become independent from Galra rule and decided to rebel against the empire. With all these terms floating around, it’s starting to sound like Star Wars, except real life with less cool quotes and more mental struggle.

“Pora is now on the other side of the war.” Lotor explains with a smile. “They are with Voltron and the Blade of Marmora, so they are against us. There is nothing to it, darling.”

“Well, you’re in a pretty good mood for someone who just lost a valuable ally with like eight thousand tons of pure energy and ample fuel pulsing through their planet.” I respond with a lifted eyebrow. “Did we… want to lose them?”

“Of course not, my Blue Prince.” He lays a kiss on my forehead that is not discreet. People aren’t allowed to be disgusted with you when you’re ruling the universe. “You’ll understand soon, I don’t like losing to unworthy people.”

We’re bidding the queen a final farewell and I’m looking into her pitch black eyes with interest, matching her smile and twisting the ring on my middle finger. I twist, twist, twist. The world drains of it’s color and becomes a grayscale, slowing. It’s slow as Lotor pulls out his sword and slow as he beheads the queen. I’m still looking into her eyes as black blood seeps into the ground and runs between the spaces in the tiles. There’s a mutual blink before her fuzzy flesh goes from yellow to mustard colored and her pincers hang loosely open.

Hammy and I stare at each other from where she’s perched on my shoulder like a parrot. The smell of it hits me all at once and I collapse to my knees. If I had anything in my stomach, it all would’ve rushed out at once now. The dry heave makes my throat burn.

The second thing that hits me is the hunger.

A month and a half of self starvation and the world speeds back up, the color returns and only a second has passed and already her remains are gone. The soldiers who stood by her are all slaughtered, the scent of their viscera hanging heavy in the air and filling my head like chemical smog. I look down and my hands are red. My stomach is full. I feel alive and rejuvenated. But, I want something a little more like me. With stretchy, plump flesh and red, oozing blood in blue veins and pink, fleshy organs and dripping insides. There was never a craving for quintessence, never a moment I wanted to just suck the power out of the food.

It’s then I realize they haven’t been turning me Galra. They’ve been turning me into a cannibal.

Or should I say, my lover has been feeding me my own kind for months and months and months upon end.

And I’m so hungry, now.

This is my exchange fic for @anagrammaddict !! Thank you to @dailyspiritassassin for hosting such an amazing event!

Anagramaddict wanted hurt/comfort, so I hope that you enjoy!

“Baze, Baze my love, wake up. Kaya!”

Baze slowly opened his eyes, looking up at the side of Chirrut’s face. He wanted to close his eyes again, go back to sleep. His entire body was trying to drag him down, to protect him from pain. Pain. That was what Baze was feeling. His shoulder, the left one. He turned his head to look, and saw Chirrut’s hands, red with blood, pressing against his shoulder. “Chirrut…” Baze muttered. “Chirrut that hurts, stop…” Why was Chirrut hurting him?

“Baze,” Chirrut breathed and he pressed more into Baze’s shoulder. Baze gasped with the bolt of pain. “Baze, you’re awake, stay with me, please.” Baze turned his head to look at Chirrut’s face again. He looked at the knit of his eyebrows, the lines around his eyes. Chirrut was scared. Why was he scared?

Kaya slid into view and she kneeled next to Chirrut, a med pack in her hands. She opened it up and pulled out the bacta. “What was he hit with?” Kaya asked. Baze hated it when people spoke as if he was not in the room. It was not a feeling he was familiar with. His size made it difficult to ignore him. A wave of dizziness hit and his head spun. This time he would let go of Kaya’s rudeness.

“I don’t know,” Chirrut snapped, his words harsher than necessary, “I didn’t exactly see it.” Kaya nudged at Chirrut’s hands, and Chirrut swallowed, carefully, reluctantly, pulling his hands away. Baze looked at his shoulder again, ignoring Kaya undoing his jump suit.

“Chirrut, you stained my suit…” he muttered. Chirrut moved to Baze’s other side, his hands reaching down and sliding over Baze’s cheek. “I liked this jumpsuit…” Baze muttered.

“I know, I know,” Chirrut said quietly. Callous slick fingers slid along Baze’s temple and Baze suddenly felt tired again. “Baze,” Chirrut said, voice suddenly firm. “You need to stay awake, you’ve lost a lot of blood.”

Blood? Baze looked back at his shoulder. It was more difficult to turn his head this time, it meant moving away from Chirrut’s hand and he enjoyed when Chirrut touched him like this. Kaya was ripping down his jumpsuit, and he saw the hole that was marring his shoulder, blood seeping out of it and over the smooth skin there. “Well, shit,” Baze muttered. Chirrut let out a laugh, a surprised almost hysterical laugh. Chirrut was always more inclined to laugh then cry. It was either not very bad, or it was much worse than Baze thought. He just wanted to go back to sleep.

“Looks like a slug shooter,” Kaya said as Baze turned his head away. “The slug is still in his shoulder, I’ll have to get it out. Baze, this is going to hurt.”

“Already hurts,” Baze muttered. He looked back at Chirrut, startled to see tears in his husband’s eyes. “Chir,” Baze muttered, and his right hand moved, taking Chirrut’s hand. It was curled up tight, short nails digging into his palm, and Baze used his fingers to uncurl the fingers slowly, sliding his fingers into Chirrut’s hand. “I’ve been shot before…”

“I know,” Chirrut said. Chirrut pulled Baze’s hand into his lap, squeezing it tight. “That does not make me worry any less.”

Baze let out a small laugh and he tried to squeeze Chirrut’s hand back. His head turned a bit so he could look at Chirrut properly. “I’m tired…” he muttered. Chirrut’s hand squeezed Baze’s hand hard again, and Baze was briefly distracted from the pain in his shoulder because of the pain in his fingers. “I know,” Baze muttered, “I can’t fall asleep.”

“I’m going to get the slug out,” Kaya warned. It was not enough of a warning though. Suddenly all Baze felt was pain. It spread from his shoulder and through his entire body, a stinging wrenching pain that pulled a scream from his throat, cutting through the silence of the room. Then everything was dark again.


“I am one with the Force and the Force is with me, I am one with the Force and the Force is with me, I am one with the Force and the Force is with me, I am one with the Force and the Force is with me…”

The repetitive prayer slid through Baze’s consciousness, and it was the first thing Baze was aware of as he woke up. Baze clung to it. He did not want to be asleep anymore. He had slept too long. He needed to make Chirrut dinner, Chirrut was terrible at taking care of himself. He was always so focused on his spiritual, on his faith, on his forms, that he often forgot that he was still human, still needed to eat. Baze could not just sleep the day away when his husband needed him. He let the prayer pull him up, back to consciousness, and he looked up at the ceiling above him, a sandy yellow color, same tone as many of the homes on Jedha.

Baze swallowed, and it was like swallowing thousands of daggers. Small stinging pains moving down before fading slightly away, leaving behind a sticky soreness. The prayer stopped, and he wished that it would continue. Baze no longer believed the Force cared about him, but the prayer was comforting. Reminded him of home. It made him want to say the second half of the prayer, the Force is with me, and I am one with the Force, but he would not. Could not. “Chirrut,” Baze managed to whisper. The pain in his shoulder, a dull throb, was starting to become more pronounced, but he pushed it away. He turned his head when he heard footsteps on the floor, and managed to see Chirrut’s feet right before Chirrut knelt next to him, taking Baze’s right hand and pulling it up.

“Baze,” Chirrut breathed, and he kissed over the palm of Baze’s hand. Baze could not hide the smile that formed as he watched his husband, watched as he pressed kisses against his palm, comforted himself with the knowledge that Baze was once again awake. He watched as realization spread on his face, and Chirrut released Baze’s hand, Chirrut’s hands patting the floor around him before finding a cup that Baze had not noticed. “You’re probably thirsty,” Chirrut said, and Baze was thankful for his foresight. “Do you think you can sit up?”

“Mm,” Baze hummed the affirmative, and he used his good arm to carefully push himself up. The world around him spun a moment, and he swallowed down the dizziness. It would pass in time but Baze was not a terribly good patient. He ignored as Chirrut tried to hand him the cup, and his good hand reached up, cupping the back of Chirrut’s head and pulling him close, kissing his husband deeply.

The kiss was deep and rich, poured out of Baze like honey. He felt Chirrut return in kind, a sort of languid movement that quickly turned fierce. Chirrut’ free hand moved up and into Baze’s hair, tangling in the wavy strands, and clung to Baze. When Baze broke the kiss he could see that Chirrut’s eyes were wet, but his stubborn husband was determined not to let them fall. “I could use that water now,” Baze rumbled out, and Chirrut pressed the cup into his chest for him to take.

The water soothed the thousands of tiny tears in his throat, probably produced by the screaming and certainly made worse by the lack of liquid. He swallowed the water down happily and slowly set down the cup, leaning close and kissing Chirrut again despite the dizziness that was building again. “Rest,” Chirrut breathed against his lips and carefully pushed on Baze’s good shoulder to lay him down. “Kaya says that it will scar,” Chirrut said when Baze was finally horizontal again. Chirrut took Baze’s hand in his own and gave it a gentle squeeze, his other hand coming up to stroke over the bumps and tendons of his hand.

“That is alright,” Baze said simply, squeezing Chirrut’s hand in return. “It will just be another piece of me that you will get to feel when you run your hands over me. Just another ugly scar on an ugly man.”

Chirrut’s lips thinned until Baze could barely see them. Baze had been trying to tease, make a joke, because Chirrut always reacted better to humor than comfort. Baze’s joke fell flat though, and he wished he could take it back. “You are not ugly,” Chirrut said as he carefully placed Baze’s hand on his chest. Chirrut stood up carefully and made his way across the room.

Baze’s eyebrows came together, and he pushed himself half up with his good shoulder. “Chirrut, where are you going?” He realized he was afraid that Chirrut out go, leave. It was not a large fear, not one that would consume him or fill him in a nightmare, but it was a fear all the same. A boy who did not want to lose sight of his mother. It made Baze feel small, and there were very few things that could do that.

“Nowhere,” Chirrut said gently. It was a tone Baze had not heard since the last time he got hurt. One Chirrut used when he knew that Baze needed to be comforted. He watched as Chirrut knelt, next to a bag Baze realized. Chirrut reached into it and pulled out a comb before he moved over, kneeling above Baze’s head. “You’ve been lying all day, we don’t want your hair to get matted.” He reached down, untying leather cords from Baze’s braids, sliding his fingers through them to untangle the plaits. Chirrut pulled back Baze’s hair and then urged him to lay down again.

“It is not every day I am willing to do this for you laying down, Baze Malbus,” Chirrut said, in a familiar teasing tone that put Baze’s anxious heart at ease, “enjoy it while it lasts.”

Baze had let out a huff at the words but closed his eyes and enjoyed himself all the same. He relaxed at the gentle touches against his scalp, the careful way Chirrut pulled the comb through his hair, finding all the tangles. Baze let his mind wander, focusing on the feeling of Chirrut’s fingers in his hair rather than the throbbing in his shoulder. Better to focus on that. He felt his body sag into the sleeping roll that was underneath him. When Chirrut was finished, Baze listened to the small click as the comb was set down, and smiled gently when he felt Chirrut’s lips on his forehead.

Chirrut slid along the floor to Baze’s right side, slowly laying down and tucking himself into Baze’s side, under his arm. Baze knew Chirrut would prefer them chest to chest, or chest to back, somewhere where Chirrut could feel Baze’s heart beat along with his own, but that would probably be asking too much of Baze’s poor shoulder. This would have to do for now.

“I had thought that you were gone, for a moment,” Chirrut said quietly against his side, and his hand moved to rest on Baze’s chest, sliding over it quietly. “All I heard was the shot and then you were down. I did not even think before I hit him, knocking him out quickly so I could get to you.”

“Did you carry me all the way here?” Baze murmured. He was sure that was a sight for anyone who had been looking in that moment. Chirrut carrying a bleeding man so much larger than him. He could hear the comment Chirrut wanted to make, heard the small sarcastic, No, I decided to leave you bleeding on the street. I needed a new husband anyway. He heard the small click of Chirrut’s jaw as he kept those words in, deciding against the joke. Whether for Baze’s sake or Chirrut’s he would not ask.

“Of course,” Chirrut said instead, “you bled all over me. I had to get Kili to go home and get me new robes. Well, I did not. Kaya made her. I would have stayed in blood soaked clothes if it meant that I could stay by your side. Kaya would not stand for it though.” Baze let out a quiet laugh that was cut off when the throbbing in his shoulder increased with the movement. Chirrut pushed himself up in an instant, ready to spring into action, to get whatever Baze needed. “Is everything alright, did you hurt yourself? Is it bleeding again?”

“I’m fine,” Baze grumbled, and the arm that had been tucked around Chirrut moved up and he pulled him back down, refusing to continue speaking until Chirrut’s head was back in its place on Baze’s right shoulder. “I forget sometimes that everything in the body is connected. The pain reminded me.” Chirrut squirmed against Baze’s side, impatient, wanting Baze to be healed already, and Baze sighed, kissing the bristly hairs on Chirrut’s head. “I will be fine, Chirrut.”

It was Chirrut’s turn to huff and he nodded, sliding his hand over Baze’s chest again. “I will believe you because I have no other option but to.” Chirrut slowly stilled except for the hand running along Baze’s chest, drawing small circles along Baze’s undershirt. “We’re going to have to get you more clothes,” Chirrut finally said, “that jumpsuit was ruined.”

“I know,” Baze murmured, closing his eyes and relaxing again. He tried to identify the symbols that Chirrut was drawing on his chest. Some of them were nonsense, little movements of the hand that had no sense of direction or purpose, just needing to move. Other times though they made patterns, ones Baze recognized, symbols that had been all around the temple, in books, on statues, in holos, along the walls. Symbols that meant things like Balance, Faith, Humility. They were drawn against Baze’s skin and then quickly wiped away by the randomness again. “Kaya and Kili will want us to leave their house at some point,” he said quietly.

“I know,” Chirrut echoed his husband’s words, and he tipped his head to kiss Baze’s shoulder, pressing the kiss there gently. “Once you are well enough to walk, we will go home.” Chirrut’s hand slid lower, to Baze’s stomach, and then hesitated before sliding back up. “And when you are feeling better, I will show you how grateful I am you did not die in the alley.”

Baze let out a laugh at that, a weak laugh but a laugh nonetheless, and he kissed Chirrut’s head again. “Well, now I have incentive to rest up and heal as quickly as I can.”

Chirrut laughed and he moved up slowly, kissing Baze gently and letting out a breath. “Mm, I will hold you to that, Baze Malbus.”

i kind of want lance to be the guy where alien animals just love him

scary skeleton birds? they try to bring him to their nests and feed him worms

giant reptilian fire breathers? totally coil around him and won’t let him go

slimy alien slugs? hide in his clothes so they can go home with him

a pack of feral yuppers? lick his face and try to make him part of their pack