#I’ll tag sh just in case

[paczulka]

i won’t provide a description fuck you

[capricious-stars]

I had cat ears on the brain

[fallenfawnn]

..

[justtrashperson]

I wanna!! Wanna talk about the secret case of s.h.!!! Because that comic is just, aheksgskagejsgsh in my brain

So rambling time let’s go

So so like, it’s Sherlock Holmes, but manga, and there’s watson, with a cane!!! At first it was a cane with a sword inside, but later he got a cane that can be used as a sword, somehow someway but just!!!!

Anyway the manga starts in their office, also there’s this girl, I forgot her name but in the actual Sherlock Holmes canon she’s actually a like, old woman??? But they made her into a girl?? Young woman?? here, but not in a creepy way or something. Like, her purpose in the comic is knocking sense into Watson and helps the other main character, Walter. And no she doesn’t have any romantic stuff with anyone here.

Before talking about walter, I need to point out that this is literally Sherlock x myths stuff or literature. Like there’s lycanthrope, vampires, hell there’s even this whole thing with Frankenstein project or some shit, and also there’s dr. Jekyll and Hyde!!!

Like, everyone’s is here aksjkwhsja-

Anyway, Walter is like, this teen character who was trying to seek help from Sherlock because he was, his hand was amputated by Hyde and his caretaker, his surrogate father, William gull decided to put a Frankenstein arm on him, because of Hyde or something

Also yes the case sherlock and Watson was investigating was about Jack the Ripper, who turns out to be this vampire named Vincent that’s dying or something, submit himself to the Frankenstein project, but then shit happens and now he’s killing people and mutilating them

Also William gull is also a Frankenstein project??? Like, okay he was part of the project, and they made like, a prototype Franken body, but then the building burns down, William escapes with the body, but then the body became sentient and like, absorbs him??? Idk the explanation for it was all over the place but I think that’s the gist of it

But anyway, Walter tried to seek help, but Sherlock actually went missing when him and Watson manages to caught Jack the Ripper in action, tried to stop him but instead Sherlock got attacked and they went missing in river thames.

So Watson was like, not in the mood because he lost his best friend but also, he doesn’t really like the kid because at first he thought the kid was Jack the Ripper because of the Franken arm, but after some explaining turns out he’s not.

Anyway, shenanigans happens, they went to mycroft for answers about Walter’s condition, but instead he captures them and jailed them in this underground cell with an old library outside that turns out to have like, those sentient book monsters. Anyway turns out Mycroft actually has the answer, but he wanted to have fun so he lets Walter and Watson go through hell and back just for that information.

Also!!! They did not shy away when showing Watson’s leg injury and when his cane got destroyed he was struggling!!! akejajjwkwhaja

Anyway we cut into Sherlock, who was taken hostage by Jack the Ripper, and he told him if Sherlock wants to be immortal, and then injects his blood to Sherlock to control him, because vampire or some shit

Then at one point Watson and Walter got into an argument, and Walter was left alone, homeless and nowhere to go because William gull was missing, and he had no one else, before he say Jekyll giving food to homeless kids, and tried to ask for a place to stay or something

Anyway at one point Jekyll turns into Hyde who is, a slime???? Like fucker can turn into slime and strong af, that’s why he can cut off walter’s arm with ease

But anyway the case and shit ends with them killing Vincent, who killed William, also Sherlock manages to escape his control when he was about to kill Watson, because fucker is of course smart and decided to drink something that can throw up blood, because if he throws up blood, the blood of the vampire will be gone and Walter then became friends with Watson and now Watson is like, his uncle or father AKSJKAJS found family.

Anyway good comic, definitely could’ve been better but I give it 9/10

[strikethematch18]

Of Sleep, Humanity, and Tainted Sorrow

Instead Of Sleep Universe (IOSU)

Dazai x F! Reader, Dazai x Chuuya, Dazai x F! Reader x Chuuya

Word Count: 2,696

This is an offshoot of my Bungou Stray Dogs oneshot Instead of sleep, I like to call this the Instead of Sleep Universe. While this could probably be read as a standalone, I would not recommend it. I’ll make sure to link the original. Instead of Sleep

To recap: Reader is a member of the ADA with an ability called Instead of Sleep which allows her hot project her current exhaustion onto someone else and enter their dreamscape, or subconscious. Her ability only works if she is tired beforehand and suffers from extreme insomnia because of this. “Instead of Sleep” ability is loosely based on the Ao3 tag “I wrote this instead of sleeping”

The original ship was just Dazai x Reader, but I’m a greedy indulgent little shit with a love for why choose books so this installment is Dazai and Chuuya with Reader.

This has not been proofed or edited. I am also considering writing a second part.

m.list

The relationship started with just you and Dazai, you thought it was monogamous, you thought it was just the two of you, faithful to each other. So, when you found out you were "the other woman" you were actually heartbroken beyond belief. Not only were you unable to sleep because of your ability, but you were unable to eat, you took up cases left and right and going home to change and stare at your ceiling most nights; sometimes your coworkers would come into the office the next morning to find you in the same position you were in when they left, at your desk doing your work but also nearly everyone else's too.

Every member of the agency tried in their own way to get you to settle, relax, eat at least a little something, or take a small nap. Well, all except for Dazai, he had tried in the beginning but your kept your distance as much as possible. Ranpo would leave snacks or force them into your hand. Yosano would drag you to the infirmary after a laborious case under the guise of a checkup but would make you lay there for a minimum of 30 minutes if you didn't manage to fall asleep for at least some rest. Junichiro and Kenji both trying to brighten your mood with jokes or tales from home. Kyouka would place the stuffed bunny she kept on her desk in your lap if she noticed you were fiddling with your hands more than usual and seemed anxious. Atsushi even guided you to an open section of the office a few times where he arranged the futon kept in the office for just in case scenarios, would force you down, and would turn into Byakko for you to contently sigh and curl into the tiger and at least run your fingers through the fur and let the tension slip from your shoulders and occasionally your eyes droop until you'd fall into a small slumber, that was about as much sleep as you would get. The president on more than one occasion would try to send you home and to not come back until you rested, but you both knew it was fruitless cause.

This carried on until eventually you had passed out from the lack of care your body was receiving on top of falling sick and found yourself in the hospital for a week and a half. When you woke up early in your stay there was Dazai in a chair pulled up next to your bed with his head in his hands and a certain redhead mafia executive leaning in the doorway to your room.

Come to find out, Dazai was bisexual and was interested in a polyamorous relationship and was working up the nerve to tell you about it and his relationship with Chuuya. He knew he never should have entered that relationship with you without you explicitly knowing. And was he ever sorry, seeing your weakened state and how much smaller you looked in that hospital bed amplified that. He stayed away because it's what he thought you wanted, that you were disgusted, never did he think you were going to find yourself sick in the hospital.

And well, Chuuya at the time was indifferent. Sure, the Mackeral should have done a lot different, but he didn't know you as well as he did Dazai. He did know you through Osamu, he knew details about you; hell he kept pestering Dazai to tell you early on so save both of you from the pain; he didn’t know things had gotten this bad. He didn't know you, but he wanted to, especially after he saw your smile and heard your laugh for the first time, even more so when it was over a piece of commentary regarding something dumb his ever so smart partner had just said.

Over time, your relationship with Dazai repaired and grew with Chuuya. Eventually, you found yourself in the best relationship you could ever hope to be in. Sincerely loved by both men and spoiled beyond belief, you didn't think you deserved it but were grateful you did. Most nights you spent in-between the two, curled into Dazai with Chuuya wrapped behind you; in fact most nights you actually got at least a few hours of peaceful sleep - this was the most rested you had been in years.

That's part of why you were worried when a joint mission with the ADA and Port mafia required the once double black to team up for a mission that was going to take anywhere from a few days to a few weeks. Despite the usual efficiency between the two on missions, this was week three without them. You had managed to sleep maybe a collected 8 hours during that time. The three of you called regularly, sometimes it was enough to lull you into a light sleep but it never lasted a full hour. You would try to assure them that, yes you were getting some rest, but both men could hear the exhaustion in your tone as you tried to pretend for their sake.

So, when during one of your calls during a day you had off and you were sniffling and your voice sounded just a bit off, Dazai and Chuuya knew they had to finish this mission and finish it now. Of course they asked what was wrong and if anything happened just to make sure that wasn't the problem and you said you were sure it was just allergies despite it raining, it became clear to them your immune system had taken a hit. Which per past events, a simple cold had the high probability of moving downhill quickly.

You never had a particularly strong immune system, lack of proper rest tends to weaken its defense and ability to recover. By the end of the call you had let the coughs you were trying to hide slip and your voice was rougher than when the conversation started and you sounded absolutely exhausted. Keeping up the facade proved to be hard as the time went on.

This was more than enough to get double black to act quickly and end this. They had more than enough to report and act on. If their new plan went the way it was supposed to they would be back to you by tomorrow morning. By the evening hours the mission was completed, their bags were packed and Dazai and Chuuya were on a train back to Yokohama. Paperwork was done on the journey back and dropped off at its respected location before they made the trip back to mafia executives apartment where all three of you have been living. Dazai had made sure to tell shachou both of you wouldn't be in today or tomorrow, longer depending on how sick you were. Fukuzawa's eyes widened when he heard you were sick and told the brunette to not worry about coming back until you were in peak health, either of you. He knew Dazai was imperative to your recovery, sleep is a powerful medicine and you rarely got any without the detective.

After completing those quick tasks they met each other at the red heads building simultaneously and and hurried up the floors to reach the apartment. Getting ready to put the key into unlock the door both could hear a chesty cough and both looked at each other with wide eyes.

"Honey, we're ho-ome~!" Dazai announced sing songedly.

"Welcome back you two," you replied hoarsely before falling into the fit of coughs and slight wheezes.

Spotting you sat huddled in the corner of the sectional couch wrapped in the largest and fluffiest blanket they owned, Chuuya dropped his bag where he stood and made his way over to you. Watching you try to catch your breath worried him beyond belief as it reminded him of when you first officially met in that hospital room.

Placing his hand your forehead his frown deepened, "Oh lovebug."

Coughing a few more times you replied, "Sorry Chu."

"It's not your fault lovebug, let's get some medicine in you and get you in bed, okay?" Without giving you a choice he tugged you towards him before slipping an arm under your knees and the other on your back and lifting you up blanket and all. Dazai didn't miss the soft smile creeping onto his partners face as you nuzzled into Chuuya, relishing in the affection you've been deprived of the last few weeks. Wordlessly he made his way to the bathroom medicine cabinet and grabbed everything needed before walking into the shared bedroom and setting them down before preparing to change clothes. Osamu knew Chuuya was going to hold you and keep you to himself for a few minutes so you knew he was really there and to assure himself you were safe, so it gave him ample time to get things together. Taking off his typical ensemble and putting on a pair of charcoal sweatpants and pulling the navy t-shirt on just as Chuuya brought you into room, he got his first actual look at how exhausted and sick you looked. You seemed miserable and in more pain than he originally thought, but most importantly, you were so tired. And he knew better than to touch you until medicine has been taken.

That was the next action of business. Get you to take the multitude of medications he procured from the cabinet. He knew you were weak and feeling horrible but you never liked taking things, so often it was a fight. Nonetheless he proceeded to place each pill in a small cup for the pass off. If he so much as brushed your hand he knew you would be asleep almost instantly. And while sleep would help, it wouldn't be enough to get you back to peak health, not without the medicine. In the cup was a few vitamins, a decongestant, a cough reducer and something to hopefully bring your fever down. Currently placed in his pocket was your emergency inhaler left over from when you were able to come home from the hospital from before you had reconciled with him and your other lover.

Seeing the pills in a cup and small glass of water in his partners hand waiting to be handed to you Chuuya took the liberty of sitting on the side of the bed leaving you in his lap. Surprisingly but also unsurprisingly, you gingerly and gratefully took the cups into your slightly shaking hands to take the medicines. At least Dazai had the foresight to start off with the pills rather than any liquids, he knew you hated taking medicine in liquid form.

Noticing a slight bulge in Dazais pants pocket he asked, "Is that the inhaler?"

Glad his partner got the hint he confirmed it was before Chuuya took it upon himself to reach in and take it out while Dazai took the empty cups from your hands, longing to touch you but restraining. After looking at you Chuuya couldn't help but see how much these simple actions took out of you, exhaustion wearing you thin. Even keeping your head up was a struggle. He knew the inhaler could help, anything to help your lungs breathe better and decrease your wheezes. But he also knew you had very little strength left.

"Okay lovebug, we're going to tag team this, you know the drill," After getting the inhaler placed he counted down from 3 and pressed down to release the medicine.

You couldn't hold it in for long, forced to release a painful cough into your lovers chest, "Sorry Chuu," your hoarse voice rang out quietly.

"Bug its okay, you're sick and that was inevitable."

"I know. Just don't want you to get sick."

Coming back into the room after exiting the en suite bathroom Dazai chimed in, "We've got immune systems of steel we'll be fine. And if we're not we'll have the cutest nurse to take care of us."

Too tired to let out even a small laugh you smiled and responded, "yeah, I guess you're right.”

Chuuya went ahead and did a second dose of the inhaler, much like a similar response to before. After taking a coughing fit that had both men concerned for you wellbeing, they looked at each other reading each others minds as to whether or not they should take you to the hospital.

Half lidded, you looked at both of their faces and knew immediately what was on their minds, “I know what you two are thinking, and no, I’m not going to the hospital.”

”But love, you’re really sick, we’re just worried,” Dazai expressed wanting nothing more than to cup your cheek in his hand

”If-,” you began before coughing again, “If I get worse then you can take me. But I really just want to sleep first.”

Both men collectively sighed, in sync with each other after years of partnership. They knew any further arguing would be fruitless, also aware that they would have a hard time saying no to you when you were this sick and they had been away for the last few weeks.

Noticing the silence and your boys downtrodden faces you decided to break the silence, “So how was the mission, any issues? Take names? Kick ass?”

They knew what you were doing, and any other time they would have enlightened your antics, but chuuya could feel some of the fight leave your body as fatigue set in from the exhaustion and unconsciously knowing you were in a safe position. And so he gave you a small response to motivate you for later.

”You know I don’t kick any asses but yours and the shitty fish over here,” he smirked, “But I did kick some other things if you catch my drift.”

Before you had the time to continue your stalling tactic, wanting to spend time with Dazai and Chuuya that you had missed over the last few weeks, the later placed you in the middle of the bed so you would be between the both of you, as you were most nights. Dazai carefully pulled the blankets up so all either man had to do before crawling in to cuddle you from either side was pull their side of the corner back enough. While he did that, Chuuya changed out of his work clothes into a soft pair of pajama pants, and a silly t-shirt you had gotten him early into your relationship that he was too proud to admit out loud that it was his favorite thing in his closet next to his signature hat. After his quick change, the redhead crawled in behind you, not quite around your body like the koala he is just yet- he was waiting for you to settle yourself with Dazai who was turning out lights around the apartment.

Looking at both his lovers waiting for him expectantly, one smiling with a dopey grin, and the other with flushed cheeks and glossy, tired eyes, he couldn’t help but want to relish in the moment but run to both of them for some well deserved rest at the same time. He sauntered over to his side of the bed, gently pulling back the covers and climbing in. Wiggling his eye brows, opening his arms to welcome you, you giggled lightly and rolled your eyes before you inched your way into them. He became inpatient and proceeded to pull you closer against him, not missing the small pout from the man on the other side of your now aware of the gap between the two of you causing the brunette to smirk.

Sighing in contentment at finally having you in his arms, your head to his chest, Dazai smiled down at your face, admiring your beauty even when you were so sick. He waited for Chuuya to settle around you before he expressed ‘love yous’ to both of you. Osamu could tell you were seconds away from sleep as he kissed your forehead, officially activating his ability, as you begun some of the best sleep you swear was the best in your entire life.

[lisbeth-kk]

May 13 prompt: rest (thanks for the tag @notjustamumj @calaisreno

His dependency

Sherlock’s irritated and rude to everyone at the crime scene. It’s the fourth murder in as many days, and he hasn’t slept, just nodded off in cabs when he was too exhausted to think straight. Lestrade has brought him tea he’s forgotten to drink, and the occasional energy bar, which he at least has nibbled at. His mood won’t lift until John’s back from Scotland. For the life of him, he can’t remember when that is. He doesn’t even know which day it is. 

“John’s coming home tonight,” Lestrade says, as if he’s suddenly become a mind reader.

Sherlock rolls his eyes at him, but his shoulders relaxes, and his mind sharpens as if given an injection of a stimulating drug. His dependency of having John at his side when on a particularly difficult or exhausting case, should be ridiculous. Instead Sherlock finds it reassuring and calming. When John’s there, he thinks better, he doesn’t care about the comments from Anderson or Donovan, he’s doing his job to perfection. After the first time John praised him at a crime scene, Sherlock’s been addicted to said praise. It makes him feel appreciated, valued, and respected. Those things have been lacking in his life before John. His phone buzzes.

I’ll be home at six. Will you be there, or running the streets with Greg?

Sherlock beams at his phone, takes a look around the room once more, and suddenly the fog dissipates. He crouches down and looks intently at the carpet with his magnifying glass. 

“Yes!” he shouts triumphantly, before sending off a reply to John.

Going home in a few minutes. Hurry! SH

“Lestrade! You’ll want to look at the dog walker. Those dog hairs are similar to the other crime scenes, but neither of the victims had a dog which they belonged to.”

Without waiting for Lestrade’s complaint and nagging about paperwork, Sherlock heads for the curb outside the house and hails a cab. He sends a text to Angelo, asking for a delivery of some antipasti that evening. After a shower he tries to get some sleep, but he’s too excited. The violin keeps him occupied until he hears familiar steps on the stairs. Seconds later his arms are tightly wrapped around John, and he relaxes completely. His knees buckle and John catches him before he sags to the floor.

“Bedroom,” John orders.

“But John. I’ve ordered food from Angelo’s,” Sherlock protests weakly, but lets John steer him against their bedroom.

He collapses on the bed and John pulls the duvet over him.

“You haven’t slept for days, love. The signs are clear as day. Now you’ll have a good rest, and you can tell me all about how brilliant you’ve been while I was away later, yeah?” John murmurs and kisses his forehead softly.

“Stay for a bit,” Sherlock mutters sleepily.

John strokes his hair, just the way Sherlock loves, and it’s the last thing he remembers before his brain stills.

@totallysilvergirl @topsyturvy-turtely @raina-at @meetinginsamarra @missdeliadili

[aurelian-university]

Sneak Peek #2 (sort of): Incorrect Quotes Tag Game

I've been meaning to do this for my AU OCs for a while now... thought it would be a fun way to introduce you to these characters and give you a feel for what they're going to be like in the story before you meet them properly.

Hope you all like this! And I also hope it gets you excited for the actual story (which is coming soon, I promise lol. I've just been super busy lately... and to be honest... Steph's Crew has been more of a priority lately writing-wise. I'm trying to give the story a satisfying conclusion, but it's so hard when you've purposely made everyone's arcs so unnecessarily complicated haha).

I'm also making this a tag game (I'll tag people at the end like I normally do).

Here's the link to the incorrect name generator:

And without further ado, let's get started!

*Zephyr drunkenly wanders around the house and Isadora is drunkenly giggling* Caius, completely sober: *sighs* Well, it looks like it's just me and you against the world, June. Juniper, going to her room: Nope, just you. *shuts door*

___

Adara: Life could be worse, Avalon. Avalon: Life could be a lot better too!

___

Isadora: It's locked. You got a lock pick? Zephyr: Yeah- Cassius: *kicks in the door*

___

Zephyr: I’m in love with you. Eurydice: We called off the prank war last night at midnight, dork. Zephyr: I know. Eurydice: Ah. Okay. Um. Cool. Neat. Very cool. Cool. Cool. Coolcoolcool-

___

Isadora: You’re alive. Marcelline: No need to sound so disappointed.

___

Zephyr: We have fun, don’t we, Cai? Caius: I have never been more stressed out in my entire life.

___

*The squad is at a dinner party but someone has been murdered* Cassius: You’re acting pretty carefree for someone whose life’s at stake. Who’s to say you aren’t the killer? Zephyr: It’s a murder, not a tax audit. I’ll be fine. Juniper: What about Eurydice? Nobody ever suspects Eurydice! Eurydice: Well what about Zephyr? He has a gun! Caius: Cassius has a knife. Cassius: Yeah, for fun, not for murder! *stabs Juniper in the arm*

___

Eurydice: Caius gets offended by everything. Caius: What did you say about me?!? Eurydice: Eurydice: Case in point.

___

Avalon: Adara, what if there are monsters? Adara: Don’t worry, we’re top of the food chain. Much later… Avalon, lying awake at night: I am the monster.

___

Zephyr: You’re overthinking this. Caius: You don’t know the appropriate level of thinking, Zephyr. What if I’m underthinking?

___

Adara: Why would you do that? Avalon: Because I feel guilty. Isadora: Guilt is a trick emotion. It’s put there by your parents to stop you from doing things that feel good.

___

Marcelline, holding a box of Lunchables: Ah, I loved these when I was younger… fine dining. Isadora: Fix yourself.

___

Xander: You know, Ava, you are the sun in my life. Avalon: Why? 'Cause I'm smoking hot? Xander: Because it hurts my eyes looking at you.

___

Adara: I’ve organised messages from my BFF into three categories. Adara: “From Isadora.” Adara: “Death Threats.” Adara: and “Death Threats From Isadora.”

___

Marcelline: What if the person who named Walkie-Talkies named everything? Zephyr: Pregnancy tests are Maybe Babies. Eurydice: Socks are Feetie Heaties. Caius: Defibrillators are Heartie Starties. Xander: Nightmares are Dreamy Screamies. Juniper: Stamps are Lickie Stickies. Cassius: I hate you guys so much.

___

Xander: A decision had to be made. Caius: And you f*cked it up!

___

Juniper: Hey, Xander you're smart, tell me what would happen if I chugged 3 gallons of chloroform. Xander: Have you ever been to a mortuary? Juniper: Yeah, my grandma lives there. Caius: That is the worst response to that question.

___

Caius, to Zephyr: I mean, I get complimented all the time- Avalon: *starts cackling* Caius: I do! Avalon: *laughs harder*

___

Marcelline: What happened?! Isadora: Do you want the long version or the short version? Marcelline: Sh-short?? Isadora: Sht*'s f*cked. Marcelline: Okay, long. Isadora: Sh*t's very f*cked.

___

Juniper: Who hurt you? Eurydice: *snorting* What, do you want a list? Juniper: …Yes, actually.

Done!

Tagging these guys:

@exquisitecrow, @thelavenderwriter, @gummybugg, @waywardwizzard, @the-stray-storyteller, @sam-glade, @sarahlizziewrites, @mjparkerwriting, @maiwritesbooks, @janec23, @mysticstarlightduck, @winterandwords, @hallwriteblr, @leisoree, @writinglittlebeasts, @stanrendipity, @magpie24601, @eli-writes-sometimes, @ashwithapen, and @fire-but-ashes-too. As well as anybody else that's interested!

[st4r-cr0ssed-l0v3r]

TW// SH, ED

Unfortunately, last night I relapsed. So I will not be as active or active at all on any of my social media, I need a break to work on myself for a while.

End of the year stress and other person issues have pushed me to a bad point and I am afraid if it keeps going I will gain an ED again.

I won’t be active on my social media but if you would like to reach put or stay in touch I still will be fairly active on discord mainly just private messaging or group chats, if anyone would like to reach out my discord is: .st4r_cr0ssed_lov3r.

I don’t know how long i’ll be gone, probably till school ends and a bit after so I can fully recover but I hope yall understand my struggles and I appreciate any support I receive.

I will be tagging all my mutuals in case they do not see this.

Thank you.

————————-

@hypocriticaltypwriter @plumberrei @blog4horror @f1inl3ey @cher3pie @theyreonlynoodlesmikee

[idleray-av]

** ~ —- -! !! ~*`- WELCoME -`*~ !! !- -— ~ * *

[|| My name Carl (Charles) or Ray | non pronouns or they/he/it ||]

more about here

(ง ื▿ ื)ว - hehe..

ru/eng

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Warning!

I deal with difficult subjects. My work consists of can be considered 16+ (this is because sometimes there will be gore/horror and sensitive topic)

suggestive content, triggers and bright colors may also be present!

If you haven't reached that age yet, think for yourself. it's your choice whether to watch my profile or not. It won't be my fault, I warned /lh

this post will be edited from time to time, keep an eye on it just in case

(wip)

Discord: IdleRay_AV

I'm not against interaction at all, on the contrary, I'm glad about it! I'm just not talkative and I'm afraid to start first and say or do something wrong (□_ □"")

I also love requests/questions, do not hesitate to ask anything! But I don't answer right away <]

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• Trades: Not now, I'm busy <]

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Tags:

My works - IR_AV

Sh*tpost - IR_SP

Reblog - IR_POST || Reblog+my work - IR_MyPost

Requests/Answers - IR_RQ

Patreon/Boosty - donate or commission! (close, maybe later)

▸Fandoms

That are currently interesting to me and maybe I’ll draw them or not

DSAF (Dayshift at Freddy's) // Lethal Company // FNAF (Five Nights at Freddy’s) // TADC (The Amazing Digital Circus) // Adventure Time // CUPHEAD (game/show) // DIALTOWN // Andy's Apple Farm

◊ Devices

• Laptop, XP-Pen Artist 24 Pro

◇ Programs

• Draw: Clip Studio Paint(not free) • Animation: Clip Studio Paint(not free)

[deus-ex-mona]

Sister⇔Change!: Chapter 2

when you try your best, but you can’t swap back...

previous part (chapter 1)

next part (chapter 3)

Mona (in Sena’s body): Big Sis, is that you…?

Sena (in Mona’s body): Mona…?

Mona (in Sena’s body): (The girl standing in front of me is myself, but Big Sis is inside my body, and I’m inside Big Sis’s body instead…?)

Sena (in Mona’s body): Uh, we’ve…

Mona (in Sena’s body): We’ve swapped bodies, haven’t we?

Mona (in Sena’s body): Why?! How come?!

Sena (in Mona’s body): Even if you asked “why”...

Mona (in Sena’s body): In any case, we gotta swap back to normal! I’ve got a show to put on today!

Sena (in Mona’s body): Y-yeah, guess we should. Um… we need to find a way to swap back… Uh…

Mona (in Sena’s body): (To think that something straight out of a manga or drama is actually happening in reality…)

Mona (in Sena’s body): (If we don’t resolve this quickly… my live is gonna get cancelled… I absolutely don’t want that to happen…!)

Mona (in Sena’s body): Sh-should we give ramming into each other a shot?!

Mona (in Sena’s body): I mean, body swaps when two people bump into each other happen real often in dramas, right?

Sena (in Mona’s body): Ah, I think I’ve seen such a drama before. Let’s give it a try.

Mona (in Sena’s body): On the count of three! One, two!

Sena (in Mona’s body): Three!

Mona (in Sena’s body): Ow!

Sena (in Mona’s body): Ouch… Have we swapped back…?

Mona (in Sena’s body): It doesn’t seem to have worked. I still see myself standing right in front of me…

Mona (in Sena’s body): (To think that such an absurd thing has happened…)

Sena (in Mona’s body): …Hey, Mona…

Mona (in Sena’s body): Yeah?

Sena (in Mona’s body): To be honest… if I don’t leave soon, I’ll be late for work…

Mona (in Sena’s body): …Ah.

Sena (in Mona’s body): What about you, Mona? You have a live today, right?

Mona (in Sena’s body): I’m completely free till rehearsals begin.

Mona (in Sena’s body): So… I don’t think there’d be any problems if you just wait for me at home, Big Sis… 

Mona (in Sena’s body): …

Mona (in Sena’s body): …I got it. I’ll go to work as “Narumi Sena” in your stead.

Sena (in Mona’s body): …W-will you be okay? My jobs for the day are really important…!

Mona (in Sena’s body): Yup, leave it to me! I ought to be heading out soon, right?

Sena (in Mona’s body): Yeah, so hurry up and get ready…!

Sena (in Mona’s body): My agenda for the day contains an interview, a photoshoot for a magazine, as well as a read-through and a meeting for a drama.

Mona (in Sena’s body): Got it…!

Mona (in Sena’s body): (That’s just like Big Sis… her agenda for just a single day is packed to the brim…)

Mona (in Sena’s body): Bye, Big Sis! I’ll be sure to do my very best!

Mona (in Sena’s body): Wait, it feels kinda wrong to call you “Big Sis” when we’re like this…

Sena (in Mona’s body): …Will you really be okay? Should I come along with you…?

Mona (in Sena’s body): But I, as Mona, am a complete outsider to your jobs, so it’ll be weird if it looked like I was tagging along, right?

Sena (in Mona’s body): That’s true, but… I still feel really uneasy.

Mona (in Sena’s body): I’ll be fine. I’ll succeed for sure.

Mona (in Sena’s body): Besides, I’m confident that I’ll be able to act just like you, Big Sis!

Mona (in Sena’s body): (I mean… I’ve always been watching her from up close because of just how much I admire her.)

Mona (in Sena’s body): (I’ll be sure to see through today’s jobs properly, as the Narumi Sena whom I admire so much.)

Sena (in Mona’s body): The jobs are really important, you know… Failure is not an option…

Sena (in Mona’s body): I’m counting on you, Mona.

Mona (in Sena’s body): Leave it to me.

Mona (in Sena’s body): I’ll be off, Big Sis.

Sena (in Mona’s body): Take care, Mona.

[anonymous-dentist]

hii abt the new tags on the fic, is it just implied sh or is it graphic? or is it like both? sorry its just sometimes ppl put the sh tag when they mean just implied, and again sorry if its spoilers i just need to know :')

I’ll put it under the cut juuuust in case

Also I don’t care about spoilers in relation to trigger warnings, if you want to ask, then ask

Okay so it isn’t actually done on screen, but it’s heavily implied and he does say, in narration, that he did it. It isn’t graphic I think (I’m not the best judge of that), but I figured it was better to be safer than sorry

In the words of my beta/omega Anonymous J:

“It's not as heavily described as the everything else, but it's definitely there and definitely stated as self harm, hence why you added the self harm tag on top of the implied self harm tag”

[ponds-of-ink]

Hunchback AU: How Did Glitch and Agonia Get Here?

AKA Summing up the Bells of Notre Dame opening + extra info.

While Sun can tell this story to the in-universe kids, I’ll try my best to do the same for you guys. Hopefully, I’ll be concise and not go down any rabbit holes..

*The story starts in a business meeting as the Pizzaplex is being developed. It’s a whirlwind of suggestions for areas ranging from racecars to laser tag. Everything seems like it’ll be your typical megamall but with Fazbear stuff until someone brings up the fact the possibility of people wanting to get married at this place if it gets popular enough. Another jokingly goes, “Well, if that’s the case, then why don’t we build a little church tucked away in a corner somewhere and give it that old-fashioned cathedral look? That’ll rake in the money!”

*The head of the meeting completely ignores the fact that this was sarcasm and takes it as a true suggestion. To rub salt in the wound of the poor jokester, several others agree and add more stuff to please the Renaissance/Medieval loving crowd. This becomes a section called Fazbear’s Kingdom, pretty much where the Daycare is in the canon lore except it’s filled with Middle Ages activities for all ages. By the way: The Daycare is still present, but it’s in a different area of the building.

*So, yeah, that’s the explanation for why there’d be stuff like an actual “clock tower” or Glitch-Trap and Sun/Moon being in medieval-ish attire. Sun was built for the Fazbear’s Kingdom attraction while Glitch just rolled with the unexpected change in development. Besides, Princess Quest was being developed alongside the new area, so it was an easy adjustment for him.

*But that’s just how we even get the Notre Dame theming. How’d we get to Glitch being a Judge or Purple Guy getting manipulated into being this voiceless bell-ringer when he clearly used to be much more cunning and villainous??

*Well, remember when I mentioned Princess Quest? Glitch thought that would be a good place to practice surveying and stopping anyone from intervening his bigger plans with the mall itself. So, after the game’s devs left for the night, he’d go through the code and look for any anomalies that weren’t him. One such night, he stumbled across four modified sprites of the Princess model and one strange lantern. Having no patience to figure out the context, he chased after the quartet’s leader (nicknamed “Judge”, in the files he could see) while his “minions” fought the others.

*That leader, by the way, was Cassidy on an important mission from Old Man Consequences himself. What was that mission? Unfortunately, Glitch never found out since he soon shoved her into a lake buried within the code. He did pick up her role as Judge and absorbed it into his “DNA”, though, so he got that far.

*That did not stop him from noticing what the lantern contained, getting repulsed by it, and almost simultaneously depleting its remnant and tossing it into the lake. He was going to remove this corrupted thing one way or another.

*Suddenly, from the courtyard, the King of Princess Quest himself stops this madness. They argue for a bit, talking about responsibilities and “roles” and such. Then the argument takes a strange turn when the king sprite reveals its true form: Old Man Consequences. And, being true to his name, he warns the rabbit of the consequences of what’ll happen if he goes through with this: Glitch will be no better than the man who made his code ages ago. In fact, he might even be worse (as if he wasn’t already..).

*So, fearing that possibility, Glitch strikes a deal with the Old Man: Glitch takes care of this misshapen creature, but both of them have to live in the Kingdom part of the Pizzaplex. The Old Man, though obviously knowing that this’ll result in both Glitch and William getting more press and/or control at the ‘Plex, agrees.

*It takes a few years (and many incidents a la the Tales books for the preparations to begin), but the pair do finally show up at the mall. Now completely ready to start his actual work, Glitch commits to his role as Judge of the Kingdom and starts fully manipulating the completely-transferred William (now referred to as “Agonia”) behind the scenes.

*So, yes, by the time we hit SB and Ruin in this timeline, many years have already passed. William is used to his job as bell-ringer and code maintenance for the area, Glitch calls the shots for the shows in the Fazbear Kingdom area, and Vanny and Greg are doing their cat-and-mouse thing anywhere other than this place. All in all, a somewhat chill place to be at night... For now.

*Oh, and uh... Sun only knows about the whole Cassidy incident thanks to the Princess Quest devs seeing the aftermath in their code log the next morning. Obviously not questioning anything and only sensing an opportunity to reference the Bells of Notre Dame song, they begged the higher-ups at Fazbear’s for permission to turn their weird fluke into a story just like that. By some miracle, those high-ups agreed and put that story into Sun’s system.

*So, yeah, if it weren’t for some silly shenanigans both at the Design Department and the Board Room of some Fazbear higher-ups, this AU wouldn’t have happened and the story of SB would’ve been normal. Thank those guys, I guess?

*Hang on, editing with one more crucial detail: Glitch not only took on Cassidy’s role, but he also literally stole most of William’s voice to make the manipulation process easier. That’s why Agonia is (predominantly) voiceless and Glitchtrap sounds more cold yet human in general. If Agonia did talk, it’d sound as hoarse and frail as you’d expect.

[n-m-and-p-avocados-at-law]

So I was getting ready this morning when I watched the She-Hulk finale, and only kind of half paying attention, so I just watched it again for real. Thoughts below the cut!

the retro opening was really fun

“that’s what all the witnesses saw” - poor Jen

“People go to prison every day.” I love her parents. 

Living with your parents as an adult is hard. I did it during covid and I sympathize.

LEGALLY BLONDE POSTER

Karen could track down those shell companies. 

Pug is a gem. 

Todd is the worst.

Todd’s whole “she didn’t earn it” thing kind of reminds me of Sallinger from Jessica Jones. 

Chicken blood 😂

I know it was for the money, but I hate Emil’s betrayal. Not cool.

I did enjoy the Marvel Assembled Fourth Wall break.

K.E.V.I.N 😂

The NDA 😂

Jen got a hallway fight!

I really like that Jen got to take ownership and agency of the stuff happening to her. I think that’s the key thing -- it was her *choice* what happened. 

She is so real for requesting more Matt. 

“Historically we’ve been light in that department.” 

Jen, I hate to break it to you, but Matt has major daddy issues. AND mommy issues. 

I want to know about X-Men, too. 

I like that it was important to Jen to deal with Todd through the law, and that’s how she got to do it.

Matt entering in the most dramatic way possible 😂. Also, does he have two sets of music now?

They’re cute.

Titania is so real for recognizing Daredevil, and I forgive her for everything because of it.

Matt in blue plaid 😭😭😭. 

Matt being intensely interrogated by Jen’s family 😂

Is Bruce Matt’s way into the Avengers?

I was really hoping the post-credits would be Karen and Foggy, but that’s okay. It’s not okay, I need to know if they’re okay. 

Maybe I’ll go back and watch the series as a whole sometime, but overall, I liked it! It’s not perfect by any means, and I feel like it could have been tightened up a little bit, but it was fun! Also, I wish I could have had more Jameela Jamil because I love her. 

I’ll probably post some more errant thoughts, but I’ll tag those as “post sh thoughts” again in case that’s annoying to anyone. 

[mx-incognito]

tagged by: @yourspookyginger

last song: teenage dirtbag (bayBEE) idk i think this was playing in a commercial i saw and now its stuck in my head

last movie: wendell & wild (2022) 

last show: handmaid’s tale (i;m on s4 don’t spoil sh*t for me i’ll flip a table)

currently reading: uhhhh I just finished King of Scars and am waiting for the bookstore to ship me the sequel. (come rant at me about the grishaverse pls)

currently working on: i have no time for this

favourite colour: not yellow. i’m cool with all the others tho.

sweet/savoury/spicy: Yes. 

coffee/tea/cocoa: coffee, unless it is afternoon in which case gimme iced  sweet tea

craving: cigarettes, but i’m 2 months quit and so not doing that

tagging: uhhh...... YOU, gentle reader. Do the game. 

[dangergrandpa]

AO3 link: Here

Rating: E for Explicit just in case~

Characters: Micah/Shaddox

Tags: glowing cum, wing kinketry, intercrural sex (thigh fucking), bath sex

Summary: Micah has some fun with Shaddox in a bath. That's it.

Kinktober prompt list from @the-purity-pen!

"Shads - don't, you aren't gonna fit! Shaddox, you arse-'' Despite himself, Micah was laughing. The corrupted angel had shoved open the door, lifted him clean out the bath and gotten in as well. Now he was sitting with him on his lap, nuzzling into his neck with a deep gravelly purr.

"We fit fine, see?" He kissed his shoulder gently. Micah giggled and reached a hand back, stroking his cheek.

"So it seems…" He sat forward, giving his wings room to spread and curl around to Shaddox's own. "Gotcha!" Dark blue twined into white and the angel tugged carefully, testing his mate's grip. Firm and strong; there was no chance of him extracting his wings from this hold. He chuckled and relaxed in response, letting Micah hold him. His arms wrapped around the slender mortal’s waist.

"Indeed… Now what do you intend with me, nephalem?" 

“Maybe I’ll keep you captive here and make sure you relax,” the younger man cooed, chuckling at the huff of annoyance. 

“I relax plenty,” the angel grumbled in return, hugging him a little tighter. He tried to pull his wings away, and the angelic nephalem pulled them back, carefully pulling the pale strands around himself and drawing a chuckle from his partner. They tussled like that for a few minutes. It was all teasing, just innocent play… until Micah squeezed. Shaddox's surprised groan was low in tone, nearly subsonic as it combined with a rough growl at the end. He brushed the tips of his fingers over pale skin and the nephalem squirmed, a pinging note of laughter escaping. “Mi-cah-”

"Nope, not letting go!” He tugged the angel’s wings again and pushed back into his mate’s chest, tilting his head up to kiss his neck. “What should I do with you, though?" The angelic mortal was grinning. He shifted, grinding his hips down and feeling the fingers on his sides grip more firmly.

"Tease!" Shaddox gasped out, hearing a ringing laugh. Micah's voice was pure music to him, both in its mortal and angelic tones.

"Sure, if you want me to." White filaments wrapped back around blue tightly, tangling their wings together and stimulating them at the same time. The corrupted angel growled and rocked up, grinding against his backside and pushing himself up. Micah gasped in kind, going rigid when his partner tugged firmly and guided him up onto his knees. "Sh-Shaddox…?" 

"Lean down, you little tease," Shaddox purred breathlessly, "and grab hold of the bath." Micah did as he was told, glancing back over his shoulder while his hands took a firm hold of the edge of the tub. His mate offered a reassuring wing flutter. He felt the angel's substantial weight over him, shivering when sharp teeth scraped over his shoulder. Shaddox kissed his neck and braced himself over his back. "Beautiful. I am blessed to have you." 

“And I’m very lucky to have you, too.” Micah smiled over his shoulder, shuffling his knees apart.

The angel shook his head and stopped Micah from spreading his legs with a hand, grabbing a bottle of oil from a table set up nearby. The nephalem watched him with characteristic interest, tilting his head silently in question when the substance was immediately dribbled over the angel’s length. 

“Hmm… You don’t want me spread for you? Not slicking me up this time?” 

“No need,” his partner replied absently, and tangled one hand in a bundle of blue filaments. Tugging in just the right way to make him give a delicious sounding moan and slump against the bath. Wings dropped to either side, curling around each other in the water.

“Then… why…” 

“Because,” Shaddox purred, pressing between draped filaments and widening his stance to press his length slowly between Micah's legs. “I want to fuck your pretty thighs today.” 

White filaments squeezed rhythmically as he began to rock, savouring the feeling of soft, smooth skin either side of his length. The nephalem sighed, twitching when he brushed against his length on his thrust forward. The angel smiled against his mate's neck and pushed his thighs closer together, bathwater sloshing as he took his time. A little higher, a little faster, and Micah sighed again in pleasure. Shaddox's length moved back and forth against his own, heightening the arousal stimulated wings provided. 

"Shad… dox…" The nephalem gripped at the edge of the bath tightly, pressing his forehead to the cool metal. “Gods…” This was a new experience for him and he found himself extremely aroused by the lewd noise of oiled flesh on flesh between his legs. Micah lowered one hand, catching the head of his mate’s cock with his palm, and smirked when the angel snarled quietly. “Good?”

“Mmhm…!” Shaddox thrust that little bit harder, twisting himself as he did when he really got into it, and ground into the hand. Pulling back left strings of precum on the nephalem’s palm, and the sight of it over Micah’s shoulder only encouraged him to do it again. “Tighter,” he insisted, and let out a delighted moan when he was squeezed the next time. “Yes, like that…”

Micah hummed happily, squeezing his legs closed tightly and feeling his angel’s pace stutter until it was uncoordinated rutting, the feeling of being pinned under Shaddox enough to make his heart race. His breath caught when his partner shifted his grip, the bigger angel - corrupted, near silent thoughts reminded him, and dangerous - sliding one hand up from his waist to his shoulder and pulling him back against a heaving, scarred chest. Some filaments wrapped around his own length and stroked him, making the angelic nephalem gasp in air and grip the tub to ground himself, his knuckles white. 

“Sh-Shaddox…” A final grind between his thighs was all that was needed for him to feel warmth splatter down his legs, rivulets running down to the water and becoming glowing white patterns that were quickly distorted. Fingers dug into his shoulder and he was pulled upright, Shaddox burying his face in his neck. “Shads?”

“Love,” he responded, muffled, sated and tired. 

“Please, dear.” The nephalem purred to him, rocking into his hand, and he chuckled breathlessly. 

“Ah. Forgive me.” 

He continued stroking until the slim mortal released with a quiet moan over his fingers, sweeping the appendage through the water to wash it off. Micah clung to his arm, kissing the side of his head; the affection coaxed him to lift his head, eyes a duller red now, and he accepted a sweet kiss happily. 

“... I think we need… another bath,” the nephalem giggled, and Shaddox purred deeply as he untangled their wings. 

“Mmhm…” He tugged the plug out after a minute more of holding his mortal partner, letting the bath drain, and Micah took the chance to get out on unsteady legs. “Hardly worth getting out if we just need to get back in,” the angel pointed out, flicking his faded wings in annoyance and running some clean water. The nephalem rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. Standing in front of him, as naked as the day he’d been born, the angel thought him the most beautiful thing he’d ever get to see.

“I get burnt by pure hot water,” he reminded him patiently, and Shaddox barely batted an eye. He found the heat soothing, but turned the cold tap anyway, letting it run a little to make sure the mortal man didn’t get hurt. “I’m not impervious to temperature like you.”

“So delicate,” the angel teased fondly, reaching a hand out to him. “Come here, I’ll wash you.” Micah sighed, but there was a smile on his lips as he stepped back into the tub and settled on his mate’s lap again. 

“How can I resist that offer?” 

Shaddox’s hands slid over him slowly, reverently touching him before the angel lathered up the washcloth and stole a kiss. The cloth was gently, patiently dragged over all of him, cleaning away any evidence of their play as red eyes stared at him without blinking, taking in every inch of the nephalem. Had he been anyone else, Micah might have been unnerved. As it was, he was used to the lack of human tendencies and found the stare endearing, blushing under the attentive gaze. 

“You look at me like I hung the stars, Shaddox,” he murmured softly, letting him start washing his hair too. The corrupted angel hummed roughly, scratching his scalp in an entirely pleasant way.

“Why shouldn’t I? You gave me the chance to see them again.”

[tofiam]

WIP

Thanks to @tea42 for tagging me! This was meant to be "WIP Wednesday". It's sunday, today, so you can see my sh*tton of workload.

The good thing is I have a lots of WIPs right now!

I chose the one called "To wither a storm". (The name may change.) And it's a Fenris/Carver piece, also accompanied with artwork.

(I'd like to say, this only slightly edited piece. It may contains mistakes and so on.)

To wither a storm

A storm was brewing over the coastal waves. Dark clouds hung heavy and low, a strong wind herded them like angry sheeps towards Kirkwall.

Two figures on a small beach were so caught up in their spare fight that they didn’t notice the storm until first drops hit them. Seconds after that, all heaven's wraith broke loose. 

“Fasta vass! We need to find a shelter!” Fenris shouted. His heart sped up, pumping ice instead of blood, and he moved before he even thought about it. 

“We can run to the city,” Carver suggested and followed him.

Fenris’ “No!” was silenced by a deafening thunder. He looked up but they were right in the middle of it and there was nothing he could do about that.

Cold panic nested in his belly. He would never make it. Running over beach pebbles wasn’t fast enough. Kirkwall’s walls shadowed a far away horizon. Too far. 

Lightning and thunder mercilessly splitted the sky. Sudden wave of lyrium washed over him and Fenris saw nothing, but a crystal blue for a second. Then the world came back and his markings were emitting a steady flow just above his skin, protecting him from the danger which was not actually here but which he definitely felt. 

“Woah, what’s going on?” Carver asked breathlessly. 

“I can’t control it in some cases,” Fenris explained. Familiar flow of his blood mixed with lyrium calmed him a little. He shook water from his eyes and continued to run, when Carver tugged at his tunic. 

“I know a spot we can use.” 

Fenris nodded and they changed direction, Carver leading them away from the city up to the hills, while every lightning made Fenris jump and quicken his tempo. 

“Carver, what is this place?”

“Smugglers’ place. They used to store… things here.” 

Together they cleaned old wooden planks covering a narrow hole artificially made into the cliff high above the coast. It wasn’t much, just a shallow corridor, really, a ceiling hardly allowing them to stand straight, so Fenris didn’t even try to. He tossed their swords aside, then slided down to sit on the ground. 

“Do they still use it?” he asked to filter sounds of the storm. Carver shook his head, droplets coming all around from his damp hair, while fixing the door in place with a small metal hook.

“Aveline knows about them and she’s in guard now, so no.” Carver carefully overstepped his legs and kicked mouldy crates away. “You’re still drenched. I thought that the blue something would protect you from the rain. Garret does that, lazy-ass as he is, he just puts up a barrier like he’s the king of the weather.” 

Fenris tilted his head back and let out a long exhale. Lyrium faded, leaving his limbs numb and cave drowned in the dark. He could still see enough of Carver, though. And he saw how Carver unfastened his quilted ocher neck cover, put it away, unfastened his belt and loosened it to the ground, and finally pulled his shirt over his head in one smooth motion and wringed it out before him.

“Maker, I’ll never be dry again!” 

“At least you’re washed,” Fenris noted. He tried to watch everything, but the door, where an occasional flash of lightning could be seen between planks.

Carver raised voice in defence: “I do wash myself!” And then continued in a more hushed tone: “Sorry. I had to help Gamlen fix the roof and ended up doing it whole myself while he trailed Maker-knows-where. I had no time, I would’ve been late for our meeting.” 

Fenris looked up. Carver was trying to place his shirt somewhere to let it dry and not to dirty it too much. He fidgeted, making little steps, nervously crumpling his shirt in his hands. Now Fenris could finally see why Isabella called him pup. Carver thought it belittling, but it oozed with joyful affection. Who wouldn’t like a puppy?

“I meant after our training. I can teach you how to extend your reach any time,” Fenris answered gently. 

“Teach me? You’re tryna mutilate me, that’s what.”

“Look at the bright side - trying means I am not successful and you are actually very decent with a broadsword.” 

“Really?” 

A hope seeping from his voice was childish and naive. Fenris hated himself a little for crushing it down.

“No. I was holding back.” 

Carver kicked some crates. Whatever he wanted to say was silence by a loud crack and zzzing of the air outside when a lightning hit some spot nearby. Lyrium flickered like circles on a water surface, but didn't stay. Fenris was too exhausted from fear to keep it, his heart hammering into his ribs as in a battle tempo for a battle never to come. 

“Yeah, I didn’t like that one, either.” Carver said and finally sat next to him, holding the wet shirt on his knees. Wisps of steam slowly vaporised on his skin in a chilly cave air. “You know, when I was really scared, Bethany used to sing to me. She was scared too, but she held me and sang and I thought about her and about what I need to do and to be for her.”

Fenris gulped. “Please. Don’t sing.” 

“Sorry, I babble when I’m nervous.” 

“Why are you nervous?” 

“Well, we are… you and I… in a cave.” 

Fenris' ears twitched. He heard alone at the end of that sentence even if Carver didn’t say so. It took him a few minutes to figure out the true meaning behind Carver’s words.

“You were alone with me before.”

“That was training! I was trying to stay alive! That’s… it’s different.” Carver avoided his eyes. 

“Would it help, if I try to mutilate you again?” 

“Maker, you’re joking! Are you joking, right?” 

Fenris chuckled and nodded. He put his back to the wall, shoulder to shoulder with the pup, and that thought made him chuckle again. He ran his fingers through sticky wet hair to put them out of his forehead. Both of them soaked, trapped in the cave by the storm… Well, Varric and Isabella would have started an indecent story out of that. 

The wind changed and the rain continued to thump against the door. Fenris felt Carver’s weight leaning on his shoulder, just like an animal positioning itself more comfortably. Minutes flew in a completely pleasant peace. Fenris could patiently wait like this for the storm to pass, but storms have never been kind.

Series of lightning bolts illuminated the sky with aggressive white and purple visible behind the door. Noisy thunders followed.

“Fenhedis!” 

His markings vibrated and it hurt and he just gritted his teeth and gasped for air. 

“Damn, I would hug you but I’ll probably just impale myself onto those spikes on your armour!” Carver sounded compassionate, his voice deliberately louder than the storm. After a few seconds, he added: “And if not, you would yank my heart out.” 

“I would not,” Fenris assured him quietly, breathlessly. 

“You would not?”

“What’s so surprising about it?”

“Nothing. Right. Alright. Let me…” 

And that was the only warning Fenris got before Carver straddled his thighs, hands forced themselves around his torso, Carver bent and his head fell on one of armoured shoulders. Their bodies weren’t even fully touching, Carver not actually sitting, more kneeling, yet Fenris tensed.

“When I told you to extend your reach… This is not what I meant, Carver.”  

Carver ignored him and sulked. Hot breath blew on Fenris’ neck with a grunt: “Your hair’s still wet.”

“So is yours.” 

“Aren’t you cold?” 

“You are the one half naked.” 

“Good Ferelden blood. Never felt cold in my life. Winters were harsh in Lothering, you know. Sometimes it snowed up to my knees. More than once, the well froze, so my dad put me in the bucket and let me down the well with an axe and I had to chop the ice. It was fun, kind of. And the snow was totally different than what you get here. It was crispy and shining like pearls, not brown like mud. Ah, can I sit?”

“What?” Fenris asked, perplexed. Carver gently nuzzled his neck. 

“Can I sit on your thighs?” His voice meek. “This is starting to be uncomfortable.” 

“Promise not to speak, then yes.” 

“But it’s distracting, isn’t it?”

“A little,” Fenris agreed. “Also annoying.”

“Good.” Carver sat and slided to straighten his back. 

Suddenly more of him was leaning on Fenris, hot cheek resting on his neck, broad shoulders pushing on his armour, thighs and butt in wet trousers pinching his knees down, two strong forearms crushing his sides and irritating his markings. 

Fenris had no memory if anyone ever hugged him to ease a fear. Presumably not, it gets in the way with killing.

And what Carver was doing also wasn’t any kind of lovely brotherly cuddling. Force of that hug prevented Fenris from sinking his metal gloves deep into Carver’s hips and yanking him away. Strangely enough, he understood a force, he read a motive to help better than he would from a temperance. 

His heartbeat finally decided that the storm wasn’t the main issue and calmed down by one or two paces. He resigned, closed eyes and exposed his neck more comfortably. It seemed that Carver had been waiting for this to happen because in that moment he clutched him like a little child clutching a favourite toy. 

“Carver, if I find you smiling…” 

“You do what?” Carver muttered under his breath without a sense of self-preservation, so provocative, naive and young. 

“I have my armour on, I don’t need lyrium to rip things off,” Fenris warned him. 

“Damn right, you don’t. But see, back in Lothering, we had a group of boys and we always went to the scariest places around. Like a dark and cold forest aback of the Chantry.” 

Fenris moaned.

“I know - talking. I have a point.” Carver’s hands slid up and down, finding a better position on Fenris' small back. His heart skipped a beat, however he didn’t feel a need to overlay himself with lyrium. 

“We usually heckled each other,” Carver continued lazily. “I was never scared. On edge, yes, but it was all the rush and excitement. And that’s the whole point why we were doing it, for the feeling after it was done. So let me tell you, this is kinda the same. A lot. I feel like The King of the Thedas right now.”

Breath tickled his ear and Fenris braced himself for an inescapable touch of lips. Except it didn’t come. Carver only rested his cheek on the shoulder plate and poked him with a bony chin. 

“Never thought you’d be scared of storms.” A significant pause followed as if Carver put all his mental capacity to it. Fenris remembered how to breathe. “Never thought you’d be scared of anything, to be honest. Maybe only… justifiably scared, when it makes sense to be scared - facing a huge dragon, being captured and helpless and such.”

“Carver. Stop. Talking.” Fenris gritted through teeth. Anger was good. Anger stopped his hands from hugging, from holding Carver and rocking back and forth until all fears became just a silver lining on the sea’s sky.

Carver snorted and told him: “But it distracted you. Can you…” long sight drifted over Fenris’ ear, “... ah, nevermind. The storm’s already moving over.”

Fenris shot his head to the door. Not much could be seen through planks, but thunders rumbled faintly like a sleeping animal and the rain ceased to irregular dance of stray droplets. The storm indeed moved from them. 

Carver got up and while he fumbled with his dirty shirt, Fenris cleared his throat and murmured: “Thank you.” 

“Huh! Let’s not be weird about it.”

Fenris agreed. Although for the next few days Carver happened to be the one weird about it. At first, Fenris just tried to be friendlier, to notice Carver more because he deserves that. “Carver, Hawke,” Fenris greeted them both when Hawke brothers showed up in his mansion the next day. 

“Hmmm.” 

“Someone’s in the mood,” Garret mocked Carver. He angrily hit his brother in the shoulder, so Fenris backed off and instead observed him during their trip to Sundermouth.

They’ve already trained together twice. The first time happened in Fenris’ mansion and ended with a very embarrassed Carver apologising for breaking a chair and a handrail. The second one was disturbed by the storm yesterday. Therefore Fenris picked up a basic knowledge of Carver’s fighting style during trips with Hawke. 

Carver tried to be the biggest and the loudest thing all around, deliberately challenging enemies to fight him in a group. Swinging of his sword lacked finesse, but overflowed with a zest. Carver had muscles built for that. If Fenris doubted before, their hiding in the storm proved him wrong. 

Rock-hard, finely toned arms and solid hips, ready to thrust. And of course his mind supplied him with thoughts of that, too. He was free to do so, to take a lover, to bend under attraction without attachment. And what bending that would be with Carver’s broad shoulders and bright eyes above.

“I asked, if you want to come to cards, too?” Varric repeated his question. 

“Ah, yes,” Fenris answered and held out a hand to help him come out of the mouth of a cave. 

“Great! See, Hawke?” Varric turned around and they both reached out to help Garret out of the cave. “At least somebody has balls.”

“Yeah, well, mine are covered with spider guts. They are out of order ‘till I meet a bath,” came the unhappy answer.

Fenris left them to argue about selling spider intestines and extended his hand to Carver. Their fingers locked and Carver looked away.

Metaphorically speaking, Fenris lost his footing. He helped the warrior up and released him immediately, because his touches were clearly unwanted. Maybe if he hadn't had such sweaty palms? He looked down and his hands were wet, but with blood. Which wasn’t his. 

“Carver, you’re bleeding,” he pointed out a deep slash on top of Carver’s thigh.

With a stream of curses the warrior opened his belt and tugged up his shirt. Fenris caught a glimpse of a black design and dark curls on his underbelly before Carver turned away.

“Junior, your mabari is showing, and that’s a sight Bianca wishes to never see again.” 

“Maker’s balls, dwarf!” Caver groaned. “I am bleeding through my sodding trousers, I don’t care!”

“Do you require assistance?” Fenris offered.

“Maker no! I’m not a child!” Carver snapped angrily over his shoulder, trousers hanging low on his hips. Fenris took a step back. 

“He's a bit of an ass when he’s hurting.” Garret patted his brother on the shoulder, clicking his tongue and pouring oil to Carver’s rage. 

“And here I started to think it’s just his trait,” Varric scoffed. 

Fenris stayed silent. Carver wasn’t a child, as he said so, he could defend himself. Instead, he thought acidly about how the storm passed quickly and robbed him of his composure. He felt… well, it didn’t matter what he had felt when Carver was on the edge of brothercide and their group set on a back journey to Kirkwall. 

Behind the city gates Carver shyly waved his hand. 

“Can we meet again?” he asked quietly. Fenris nodded. 

“Carver, where are you? Mother’s waiting with the dinner,” Garret interrupted them and halted his steps, patronisingly looking over his shoulder. 

“Maker, give me a break!” Carver groaned and waved again, then he ran after his brother.

Fenris watched them go to the grey and dirty Lowtown and wondered how two siblings can be so different. They looked alike, and then they didn’t. Garret carried himself proudly, his staff on a display like he owned the town, larger than life with his beard, sharp eyes and never faltering smile. It was as attractive as it was arrogant and foolish. Carver hunched his shoulders like a stubborn child, unaware of the power of his youthness and wild beauty of his always messy black hair.

Fenris didn’t pretend to understand any of it. But it filled him with something he’s never felt before and couldn’t name. 

When he came to Varric’s room the day after that, Hawkes were already here. Garret jovially swung his cup in the air, listening to Varric. Isabela called to him and gestured to him to sit between her and Carver. He obliged, nodding to both and grabbing her mug.

“What’s this, Isabela? This doesn’t smell like a Hanged man’s piss.” 

“Grog.”

He carefully tasted it. So called grog warmed his stomach with a hint of acrid sweetness. He gave it back to her, silently deciding against it because its strength would make his limbs weak. She smiled knowingly and continued with gossip about how she and Anders met in the Pearl. As it seemed, there was a very small number of people Isabela didn’t meet at a brothel of which the majority currently sat around Varric’s table. Fenris found it peculiar, but Isabela occasionally bounced her breasts and hips in her ridiculously short dress, and then he understood.

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Art:

(I was trying to keep a track where a mabari tattoo is. I am a tattoo artist and I'm like 70% sure that someone with muscles could make it "bark", placed more or less like that.)