Hawke walked on unsteady legs to the prow of Isabela’s ship where Anders was huddled, and handed him a bowl of steaming food. Anders took it with slightly shaking hands. “Cold?” Hawke asked. “And exhausted. Thanks.” Hawke sat next to him and wiggled close to share his body heat, hoping that the faint aura of magic Anders usually seemed to be radiating almost without thinking would calm his restless body and seasick stomach in return. “I still can’t believe you really decided to leave with me, and really did,” Anders muttered after a while of playing with his food and leaned more heavily against Hawke. “I never even dreamed… didn’t dare to.” “I defy expectations like that,” Hawke said gently, and let out a startled laugh when the long end the red ribbon he had tied into Anders’ hair in Lowtown fluttered in the strong wind and landed on his shoulder. Anders fingered the end of the ribbon with an undreadable expression on his face, food still untouched, and then pulled it out of his hair. “You’ll want this back,” he said and tried to offer it to Hawke. “Hmm? No!” Hawke folded Anders’ fingers around the ribbon. He smiled, suddenly a little nervous and tongue-tied. “No, I want you to have it. I- did I ever tell you about this tradition my family has?” “You give out ribbons during disasters?” Anders hazarded, joking to hide his confusion, and was relieved when Hawke relaxed a little and grinned. “No. We give our loved ones this… I guess a kind of a favor? Usually it has the Amell crest on it, or that’s what Mother said, but I - well. At least it’s red. You should… you should keep it. If you’d have it.” Anders let out a breathy laugh, eyes wide, and clutched the ribbon tighter. “If I’d have it,” he whispered, and laughed again. He brushed his freed hair out of his face only to have it thrown on his face by the wind again. He took Hawke’s hands with a shaky sigh and put the ribbon back into them. Hawke’s hopeful and a little nervous smile faltered and fell, but Anders cupped his face with one hand and spoke again before he had time to pull away to try and hide his disappointment. “Hawke - Jay, I want nothing more than to keep it,” Anders said, voice serious, intense, shaking with emotion. He pulled Hawke close, digging his fingers into the thick red hair, and kissed him - first once, hard, and then again more softly, once, twice. He didn’t pull back when they stopped to breathe, forehead against forehead, aches and nausea momentarily forgotten. “Tie it into my hair again,” Anders whispered. “Please.” And Hawke did.
So yeah it sounds like we’re free to post the days whenever we have em done so long as we specify which day it is in tags. So here’s my entry for day 3.
I skipped day 2 “in denial” for the simple reason that I had no ideas that didn’t involve a reveal or a love confession. Which is something I’m actually trying to avoid in my ML fics.
Day 3: Injured
It was unreasonable to assume that fighting everyday people mind-controlled by evil-butterfly-moth-insect-things would not result in at least some form of injury. Though the protective suits bestowed upon them by their kwami were usually enough to prevent the worst of things.
No one could attest to this better than Chat Noir, who had been thrown through walls, tossed into cars, and punched in the face a lot more than most people his age. Or really most people in general.
And the only reason he wasn’t constantly in the hospital was due to the protection Plagg provided with his powers.
However, the black cat kwami had made it VERY clear that the suits protection could be… inconsistent.
If anyone was curious on how Puppet has been, here’s an update! Puppet was able to come home with me, and she is currently adjusting to life at my house! She weighs 8lbs, no longer needs milk, and is eating solid foods!