Nana2003
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Summary
Ash's life was broken into pieces after Ewrons's death, the realization of how much the assassin mattered to him hitting him like a train.
Now he has to attend his funeral and pretend that his soul isn't dead, buried with the man lying in the coffin.
or: Ash angst and Ewron's small funeral.
Bookmarked by Nana2003
16 Jul 2026
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Ewron's ears prickled and moved to catch every single sound wave when Ash breathed out— "Ewron…". He sounded so strained, weary with bone-deep exhaustion. Ewron wanted to hear him say his name again, and again, and again.
- Ewron takes care of Ash in the day after.
If I can't help falling in love with you?
Series
- Part 4 of Assassin Duo Fics
- Part 6 of Core's QSMP Fics
Bookmarked by Nana2003
13 Jul 2026
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Summary
Ewron leaned an inch too far over the side of the boat, just enough for his wet boots to lose traction on the damp wood. “Shit–”
He tried to catch himself, arms flailing for balance, before he toppled over the side and hit the water with a loud, chaotic splash.
“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” Ash muttered. Then, without hesitation, he dove in after him, cutting through the cold, churning water.
OR,
During one of Ewron and Ash’s usual boat meetings, Ewron accidentally injures himself, leaving him bedbound under Ash’s care.
Ash would be a fool not to take advantage of the situation and make fun of the clumsy red panda hybrid.
Bookmarked by Nana2003
13 Jul 2026
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Summary
Ash spoke up after a moment of tense silence. “Is this a hybrid thing?”
Ewron raised an eyebrow, glaring up at Ash in suspicion. “Is what.. a hybrid thing?” His ears perked, and then fell once more.
“Like a bird needs their wings taken care of - you need physical touch.” Ash sighed out like it was obvious.
Or,
It’s Ash and Ewron against the world, they need to learn how to lean on eachother.
Bookmarked by Nana2003
12 Jul 2026
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Summary
“Wings.” Ewron exhales softly, expression going slack.
Two crescent moons (more crater than lunar dust). Stunted. Weighted down by neglect. Ewron can’t tell which bird they’re corresponding to, but the murky black pinions sit huddled between Ash’s shoulderblades like a narrow valley.
“Wings,” Ash says it through his teeth, as though admitting to a nasty, untreated wound. But they’re incredible—like a siren or an angel—Ewron can’t decide, not when his hands are already searching for a bucket. “I could never reach them. They’re kind of. A mess, now.”
An exchange.
Series
Bookmarked by Nana2003
11 Jul 2026