#//MUAH thank u for this!

[ilikedetectives]

"Did he say Cyclops? Did he hurt your feelings?"

[countercharmda]

@charmsperson asked: what does your muse FEAR? & what does your muse WANT? >:3c

from this list!

i think, most of all, serendipity is terrified of being forgotten. the way he talks about it, he'd like you to think he's concerned with his legacy. but more importantly, he's scared of his own loved ones forgetting him. leaving him behind, maybe even replacing him. he's a shell of a person, anyways; it wouldn't be too hard to discard him for something better, right? ( a close second to this is being trapped somewhere, against his will, being someone he doesn't want to be, but. )

i think he wants to do something worth meaning. all his life he's been surrounded by stories, grand and golden and satisfying when they end. if he could live his life like that -- one proper, harrowing adventure that lands him in the gilded pages of history -- he'd be happy. ( a close second to this? a yearning for love, of course! )

[bunnyjesters]

wabash, indiana

loosely based off of @ridthewaste ‘s hc post

[ex0toxin]

awughhh silly shipchart.. my canonverse hcs 🧠

og post

[moodnoodle]

ouran doodles pt. 3

[ladysantos]

Idk if you got an ask I sent a bit ago or not so just in case not would you mind talking a bit about AJ? I’m obsessed with her design and the peaks of her character and story from the art you’ve posted. Just in general keep up the wonderful work your art is so stunning <3

hey thanks!! im so so glad u like her and im so grateful people like these characters living inside my head 😭 shes one of my oldest ocs and has changed a bunch of times. i think its really neat that characters change as the times change, they change styles and keep up with trends and grow up just as ppl grow up.

shes the lead vocalist of a band (i havent stuck with a name yet its crazy) with 3 other guys, my last art of her features her and their drummer alan! ill introduce u to the rest of them soon. maybe.

aj is a hot mess, shes reckless and carefree and doesnt give a shit about u or what u think. she can be a real asshole and will push people away in the meanest way possible. A SAD LESBIAN. she would keep feelings to herself until shes in front of a microphone, where she could be a genuine version of herself.

heres an old art i never posted <3

[skraktech]

could you draw Uzi and N in a sleepover?

watching anime together:D

[maskedbutmessy]

and its getting worse.

[please click for better quality !! it looks like shit from afar but i swear it aint]

hi hi! finally got around making this comic :D had so much fun making this (LIE. five suicide attempts were made.) this took 14 hours so im not making a comic anytime soon 😁😁

tho i have soo many ideas :) so stick around my dudes

reblogs are very VERY appreciated! thankms!

vvv oo u wanna see the original sketches so badd vvv

[girl-named-matty]

Happy Birthday to.. me??

Well yes it's my 17th birthday today. I'm so excited but also a little nervous cuz yk this is my last year before I turn eighteen but life is life and I might as well enjoy it while it lasts!

But really, this post is just a really big thank you to all the mutuals, friends, and people I've interacted with while in the HL fandom who have been so kind to me and supported me through a lot. Without you guys, I would not be where I am today and I'm not even joking about that.

I was just barely fifteen when I joined this fandom in Feb of 2023 and now I'm seventeen which is just wild to think about for real. (I know that's how time works but it's just hard to fathom sometimes.) There's been ups and downs but all in all, this fandom means so much to me as well as a lot of the people in it.

To wrap this up, I love you all so much and thank you for being such a big part of my life. I love you all and am giving the best wishes out to you for the new year!! ❤️

[mkanuhea]

regarding your lamb questionnaire; i would love to see 4, 30, & 44 answered!!! i love you & your art🩷

4. Did your lamb kill anyone prior to their first death? If so, who?

I totally misunderstood this question, thinking it was referring to after the lamb was resurrected and dying from a crusade run. But, BEFORE Miel was saved from Narinder, she never killed/injured anybody.

30. Who is your lamb’s second in command or closest follower?

44. What is your lamb’s favorite weapon? Their least favorite?

(this might be my own bias, but i never liked the gun 😭)

[rinneverse]

࿐ ♡ ˚ . 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞! — 𝒃𝒍𝒂𝒅𝒆. ˒ ⊹

syn. bladie brainrot. he is the only man ever. pair. blade x f!reader cw. biting / fem reader / p in v / exhibitionism (?) (they bone in an empty alley) / just a lil thirst i'm so very normal and sane about bladie note. blade my beloved. hes in my brain always. i meant to stay under 300 words but then it got a little bit out of hand—regardless, i hope u enjoy ♡. i love blade RAHHHHHHH

MINORS + AGELESS BLOGS DNI. NSFW UNDER THE CUT.

blade is not gentle in the way he loves you.

he's rough around the edges, and perhaps a little too possessive for his own good. he likes to press your buttons, rile you up and push you until you break. it drives you mad.

you still can’t help but be drawn to him, though; his aloof manner is alluring and the glint in his eyes is dangerous. and oh, watching him in battle—the flex of his biceps, the almost graceful way in which he brutally takes his enemy down���you think find yourself entranced.

and when it’s all said and done, blade still has so much pent up energy left. it’s almost like clockwork: he takes down his final enemy and then is whisking you away once the other stellaron hunters take over the scene. you can see kafka and silverwolf share a knowing glance and your face grows warm in embarrassment.

blade was insatiable.

the moment he gets you alone he’s already mouthing at the sensitive skin of your neck, canines pressing against the flesh almost like a warning—a reminder that he could so very easily pierce with them—and you find yourself thinking that you wouldn’t even mind.

his tongue laves up your jugular, drawing a sweet moan from your lips as he sucks a hickey right on your pulse point. blade knows exactly what gets you going and he does not intend to waste a single second.

a breathy sigh of your name against your neck, rough hands trailing down your sides to stop at your hips and give them a squeeze, blade wants to devour you. he slides a hand under the fabric of your skirt, pushing your panties to the side to expertly rub circles on your sensitive clit. he drinks in the moans you let out in a kiss, a heated exchange that melts your core and sends shivers down your spine.

"blade," you whine. "more.. need more."

he hums, crimson eyes glinting in the darkness of the alleyway as he turns you around, pressing you against the cold wall. it wasn't uncommon to have blade take you wherever and whenever he wanted, especially when he grows pent up—like he was now.

you hear rustling, and in seconds you feel the fat head of his cock prodding at your soaked cunt. your lips fall open in a quiet gasp as you feel him stretch you out, the familiar ache of him splitting you open a welcome one. you hear him let out a harsh sigh behind you, his lips attaching to your neck once again.

and there he takes you. his thrusts are harsh and his grip on your hips is bruising, but you wouldn't have it any other way. he leaves dark bruises along your neck and collar, marks of his possession over you that the sight of alone sends him into a frenzy.

blade is not a gentle lover. but he is an attentive one—he doesn't stop until you're crying from the pleasure, making sure he and he alone is the only thing on your pretty little cock drunk mind.

please don't repost on other platforms. rbs and comments are super appreciated ♡ !!

[wild-moss-art]

what about a lighthearted hortensia doodle?

I loved that she was the main character of engage 💖

[ask-trialtale]

"ur style makes them look so pinchable (but they will shank you)"

erm!! idk about you but if Frisk shanks me id say thank you 😋🫶🫶 /hj

(glad you liked my submission!! 🫶💖)

[rivermaoo]

Been busy lately!!! (School and trying to earn for uni). For my comms, please stay on me I'm currently working on them! Just a little slower.

And soon I'll be teaming up with a friend to open a RedBubble shop! Selling mk1 stickers there like the one above! (It's still on progress, stay tuned, hope y'all would take interest)

And oh! I'd like to greet y'all a very happy new year! Luv y'all and y'all stay safe mwa mwa! 🤍

[antoncore]

happy valentine’s day to my tonddo ♡♡

[arrowfortea]

hello hello 38 from the kissy prompts for a da2 pairing of your choice!

thank u for the prompt!!! i present: post-bitter pill fenhawke where hawke's shitty and it makes him behave shittily and also the two of them wade through literal, actual shit.

38 from the kissy prompts: "a kiss while one party is carried" word count: 1.6k themes: bickering/jealousy/pining/etc (toxicbybritneyspears.mp3), hawke smugly having no sense of smell, fenris getting called bad in bed 234 different ways, and sewage. a lot of sewage 🤎 read on ao3 or here ↓

“How does it go? ‘It smells like something died in he—’”

“You will die in here,” Fenris snapped, “unless you hurry up, or I throw you into the lurch myself.”

Ahead, the narrow tunnel into Darktown’s sewers gurgled. The Dalish witch was already most of the way through, with Sebastian behind her, black-brown water swilling about their knees. Fenris would’ve joined them minutes earlier, were it not for the most important part of his life seemingly considering her life unimportant; as well as his temper.

Hawke lifted her robe an inch, and gestured to her boots. “These are Nevarran linen.”

“Which can be—”

“Which my mother embroidered!”

“—removed, and held, and I won’t bicker with you until the templars descend, Hawke; if I must I will haul you behind me, and soil you far worse. Get in the shit, or remove your boots. Now.”

Her wide-eyed look had less in common with a puppy than it did a woefully disproportionate owl. Fenris stepped closer, and lowered his voice.

“Marienne,” he said, words hoarse as dragged gravel, “you know I can throw you, and do not wish to ruin your mother’s gift—”

“But... If I’m carrying them…” Looking at the thin brown river below, and clueless of the restraint required to not drown her into submission, she said, “what if I trip? ”

“Venhedis,” he hissed, “I will—”

“Don’t worry! There’s nothing to trip on!” The witch waved her hand from the tunnel’s end, voice echoing down, followed by a squelch-thud-squelch—“It’s like hot cocoa at first, and when you’re a little farther, it’s pudding!”

“Sure,” Hawke shouted, “except, it’s actually not any of that! At all! Thanks!”

Sebastian began to splash and splosh and splish his way back, beaming. “Would it not be easier, my lady, to have you carried?”

Over Hawke’s frown, Hawke’s Shy Smile slid into place; facetious, all of it. “Really? Y—”

Fenris seized her waist, scooped her into his arms, and stepped off the ledge.

“If anything died here, Hawke, it did not do so alone,” Fenris grumbled, before stopping to gag into his shoulder for the fifth time. None of the laddered exits had let out as they were meant to, and so the group had settled heading toward the waterway — and the sewers, unsurprisingly, stank.

Worse, they tasted. Rotted eggs and dirt-crumbed excrement had been bundled into a mildewed sack, and lodged halfway down Fenris’ throat.

The wretched woman draped in his arms hummed, half-giddy. “Gross,” she cooed, then feigned what had to be the loudest sigh he’d ever heard. “Someone’s gotta clean up this city!” 

Another wave of nausea met Fenris’ stomach; he wouldn’t terribly mind joining the dead somethings, for through the swill of his mind, there bobbed another correction: that had been the second loudest sigh he’d ever heard, feigned from that smiling mouth. He tried to relegate Hawke to his peripheral vision.

As he followed the distant blur of Sebastian, trudging into another fetid tunnel, Fenris had never been so grateful to the Chantry in all his life; that white and shining armour was a saviour—

“You know what?” Hawke’s too-sweet voice drenched over his focus. “This actually isn’t your worst angle.”

“I don’t care,” he growled, shins shoving through the muck.

From around the bend, Merrill yelped, and cursed, "oh, rats!"

“What’s wrong?” Hawke called.

"Rats!”

As quickly as one could run through waist-high goo , Sebastian had run to save Merrill. Perhaps in order to impress Hawke, or perhaps to get out of the dingy hell the group had found themselves in, thanks to the magic roiling off two of their number — though Hawke’s magic was ever so faint a thrum against Fenris’ lyrium-ridden skin. He chose to blame the Dalish for the acid blooming up his throat every five minutes.

Hawke had relaxed into his arms, and begun to swing her feet slightly. After a half hour of winding through tunnels and cursing at manholes, she was undoubtedly safe, as there was no further forks to take.

The others were too far ahead, and while Fenris had no fear of rats or skulking fugitives.. the prospect of being alone with Hawke was.. unnerving. A fact which unnerved him further, and an anxiety quickly proven to be well-founded when she reached up, and draped her hands over his shoulders.

Ostensibly, to hang onto him, but Hawke was never so inclined. While the others received hugs and kisses on the cheeks goodbye and hello and thank you for the gift, Sebastian, you’re too kind — Fenris received a quick peck on the cheek, and a slap on the shoulder, if she took pity on him.

He found himself tightening his hold — typical — and across his chest, the familiar chill of yearning. Hawke...

Fenris’ breath steadied, with great effort, until there was no sound but the wet squelch of his feet, and the rustle of her robe’s sleeve against his armour; she was slowly trailing her hands from his back, to the nape of his neck, and if she touched him… he’d collapse, and drown happily, for a few seconds, at least, before his senses gasped to life. Wherever they were.

Gentle and warm as balm, Hawke’s hands rested on either side of his neck. He swallowed a pathetic noise. She shifted, pressed, and—

He didn’t drop her, but it was a near thing. The sewage gleamed, Fenris’ muscles locked up; fibers sharpened to needles, dragging against the markings; a rod of steel shot down his body, halted.

“Shit!” Hawke pulled her hands away, almost immediately. “I thought… I was—”

Cut off by a deep, wavering sound, stirred from the back of Fenris’ throat.

The steel burning in his spine melted eventually. Slackening, he panted — like a dry-mouthed dog — then snapped his mouth shut. He held his tongue against the roof of it and swallowed. Then straightened up, and carried on, rounding another corner. The shock had numbed the stench, at least; acclimated him to discomfort.

At the end of the passage, a curved square of light — and the silhouettes of their companions. Hawke’s companions.

In front of them, a shadow of a hand passed back and forth. “Hey.”

Perhaps she’d sensed the bitterness rippling off him. “It’s fine.” Do not look at her.

“If you want to put me down…“

Fenris hoisted her higher in his burning arms, compensating for earlier slack. “It would make little difference,” he grunted, “this farce is almost done.”

“Wait,” she whispered, and he slowed. Not to a complete stop; neither his spine or stomach would survive that. “Do you not want me touching you, at all? I’d understand.”

No. Yes. Fenris set his jaw. “Your touch is as welcome as it has ever been,” he said flatly; he refused to indulge either of them with lies. “I chose to carry you, is that not an answer?”

“Your markings, though.”

“Wool can be particularly abrasive. On any skin, I imagine, but my back is sensitive.” And is going to fold in on itself.

“Oh! My… sleeve. I… got it.”

Fenris grunted again. His muscles screamed, but the skin on his shoulders still tingled with her touch; the sun ahead would soon lay claim to all the warmth on him. Fenris closed his eyes, to block out the eye-aching exit. Focused on the gooseprickles by the nape of his neck. The slosh of sewage, the soft “hey.”

Warmth, on the side of his jaw, he tilted his head a fraction to meet it, and on the corner of Fenris’ mouth, was hers. Hawke’s. Marienne. Mari’s mouth against his; something wailed in his chest and she kissed him — with the lightest press, no further than the corner, no longer than a breath, before pecking his cheek, just as quick. It was a miracle he remained standing, instead of slamming her against the shit-soaked bricks.

“Don’t,” Fenris hissed. Markings untouched, agony exploded through his insides regardless, and saliva filled his mouth. He swallowed. “Hawke. Do not do that again.”

She sat further upright, pressing her hand onto his breastplate. “I missed yo—”

“Stop, I am sick of—”

“—ur cheek, at first—”

“—you, pity—” He bit his tongue.

“—and… oh. Oh, wow!”

Kaffas, kaffas, kaffas. Fenris should’ve slammed his head against the bricks. Quickening the pace at which his legs smashed through stinking shit would have to do. “I misheard,” he muttered. “Then misspoke. I’m sorry.”

“Sick of me,” she echoed softly. “That’s marvellous .”

“Ma—no, Hawke, it was — I misheard, and I am not myself, I.. excuse me.” Fenris coughed, then gagged into his shoulder. He could see the pupils in Sebastian’s absurdly bright eyes, and focused on those instead of his stomach. Merrill shot him a humiliatingly sympathetic look.

“When we are outside,” he panted, “I can explain.”

“Okay.”

“Alright.”

“Now put me down.”

Fenris ground his teeth. “In ten feet—”

Hawke lurched up; his iron-clad grip alone kept her from falling. “Put me down!”

“Kaffas, woman!” Fenris came to a halt; retched, almost, but knocked the acid back like a shot. “Fine! Remove your bo—”

“Now!”

“As you wish,” he snapped, releasing his hold.

She wriggled through a fall, stumbled in the ankle-deep sewage, and barely caught herself on a wet, particularly stained brick. Fenris swallowed a scoff. Eight years of ballet, wasn’t it? What coordination.

Hawke had a look that could’ve stripped the shit off the wall, she ought to try, do herself a favour. “Maker,” she huffed. “I didn’t say let go.”

“You alright, Fenris? Hawke?”

“Yes, Merrill!” Hawke threw a hand up, and waved. She moved through the grime as if it were water, and laughed. “Just couldn’t make it to the finish line!”

“Aw, I’m sorry… your boots…”

Fenris would kill the witch one day, or she him; either would be adequate release.

Notes: WhichWitch-FlorenceAndTheMachine.mp3 am i right folks ANYWAY please consider reblogging/replying/liking if you had a good time reading this, or leaving a comment/kudos on ao3!!