#deep in the trenches of my askbox rn

[deerspherestudios]

Hi! Question, so at the end of day 2 mycheal says he can’t let mc leave because he hasn’t tried to find their cat but he knows that the cat is dead I hope this isn’t to spoiler-y but does he have a plan what to do or was it just an impulse thing to keep them longer with him?

Impulse, for sure 💔 He probably already regrets his decision on the way back to his home but what's done was done. Now all he can do is wait for you to wake up and see where it goes from there.

[devirnis]

Aaaah i'm so sorry about the server issues, prolonging the exam anxiety is such a specific kind of personalized hell 😭

But i'm sure you're gonna be awesome whenever the next exam date will be 🙌

For the prompt thingy i felt like "patching up a wound" was calling my name 🥹 and idk if you're up for a curveball for pairing but... hansry? 👀

but also i know these are not platonic prompts but i've been craving some bobby and buck father-son duo caretaking too lately 😭

But also i'm neck deep in the bucktommy trenches rn as well so...

what i'm saying is you can do literally anything with the prompt and i will eat it up bc i love all of your writing 🫶

look at me being chatty in your askbox lol

Thank you, Lilla! I was quite upset this morning but I'm trying not to let it get me down -- hopefully I'll be able to write it before I head out of town on Thursday evening for the weekend, but it's not the end of the world if I can't My first crack at writing hansry! I hope you enjoy

Henry had hoped that the fervour of finally reuniting after a fortnight would result in blind passion that would buy him some time. Instead, as soon as Hans divests him of his gambeson, his hands roam all over Henry’s torso, almost instantly brushing over the bandage on his side. The kissing which Henry had been enjoying immediately stops. Hans rears back, his eyes narrowing as he regards Henry’s face.

“You said nothing happened on the way back from Kuttenburg,” Hans says, accusatory.

“It was nothing,” Henry replies. “Just a couple idiots trying their hand at being highwaymen. One caught me on the side. His sword was dull; it hardly did any damage.”

He could perhaps make a better case if a smear of crimson hadn’t appeared on the pristine white of the bandage in the time it took him to walk from the baths to the den, find Hans near the archery range, and sneak back to their shared room. The wound still throbs in time with his heartbeat, but the sensation had been easily pushed aside once Hans had started stripping his armour off of him.

Undeterred by Henry’s attempts to assuage him, Hans quickly unwinds the bandage to get a better look at the wound. “Henry,” he groans, his expression pinched with worry. “This isn’t nothing.”

“It’s fine.” Henry tries to keep his voice soothing. “It’s not even bleeding.”

It’s mostly true. There’s a sluggish trickle of blood welling up between the cut pieces of his skin. The bathmaid who attended him hadn’t felt the need to get gut for stitching, though.

With an exasperated noise, Hans turns and walks over to his chest. He crouches down, rummages through it, and produces a bottle of schnapps — no doubt pilfered from Kubyenka — and a few fresh strips of cloth. Henry grimaces as he realizes what’s coming.

One gentle push from Hans has Henry sitting down on his bed. Hans steps between his open legs, uncorking the bottle with his teeth. The action stirs something in Henry’s gut again, but he knows there’s no distracting Hans now.

“What bathmaid wench is responsible for this shoddy work?” Hans tuts.

Henry gamely doesn’t mention that the gash had been treated perfectly well. He holds himself dutifully still as Hans pokes at the edges of the wound, doing his best not to flinch. Hans pours some of the schnapps over one of the cloths and then carefully brings it to Henry’s side. A pained gasp escapes from Henry’s mouth as the burn of the alcohol hits him.

“It’s nothing, he says,” Hans grumbles irritably, wiping away the blood.

“It’s just the schnapps,” Henry argues through gritted teeth.

Hans scoffs again, focusing on his task. Once the wound is cleaned to his liking, he bandages it with the clean cloths, tossing the dirty ones to the side to be disposed of later. Henry thinks that Hans might offer him a sip of the schnapps as a reward for being a good patient, but Hans places the bottle on the floor. When he turns back to Henry, his expression is drawn.

“I ordered you to come back to me unharmed,” Hans huffs. “You disobeyed me.”

“Hmm.” Henry takes Hans’s hand and guides him to sit on his lap. “And however shall my lord punish me for such disobedience?”

That finally gets rid of the last of the worry on Hans’s face. The corner of his mouth ticks up in a smile, and he settles his weight more deliberately atop Henry’s thighs. “Hmm…” he hums, pretending to think as he curls his fingers into the hairs at the back of Henry’s head. “I’m sure I’ll think of something suitable.”