the future is bulletproof

hey guys! long story short, i lost everything (including my cats) in a devastating apartment fire a few months ago that was not our fault. while my partner and i are about as recovered as anyone can be in this situation, this is the first time i've been able to reopen my online store since then, which is my main source of income.

i'd appreciate if you could check out my shop or spread the word! everything is on preorder, estimated to ship in august.

𝖌𝖔𝖙𝖍𝖘4𝖌𝖔𝖙𝖍𝖘 𝖗𝖎𝖘𝖊

“Don’t fucking touch me!”

Fenris recoiled, his hand all but flying from Hawke’s shoulder; even Varric jumped at the hostility in the mage’s voice. “Hawke, we just want to help you,” Varric explained, hands raised to try and prove he wasn’t about to touch Hawke. “We got here as fast as we could.” 

Hawke snorted, spitting out another mouthful of blood. “Fat lot of good it did me.”

Fenris’s heart sank. They should’ve known. Everyone had thought it odd that Hawke hadn’t shown up at the Hanged Man for two days straight, and it took those two days for Orana to find Fenris and ask him to look for the Champion; the girl was worried sick. Aveline mounted a search party within the guard, and Fenris led Varric and Anders out to the Wounded Coast. He followed his gut, and they found Hawke nearly dead, caught by a band of templar defectors who didn’t tolerate a mage as the Champion of Kirkwall.

He made sure they didn’t die peacefully. 

But right now, Hawke would let no one touch him, and only tolerated Varric near him long enough to unlock the shackles around his wrists that kept him chained to the wall. Anders was still destroying the pit the templars had built next to Hawke, a tray covered in metal devices he didn’t want to think about next to that.

“Hawke, you need to let me heal you,” the other mage said, voice softer than Fenris had ever heard it. “Nothing will heal otherwise.”

“Fuck you,” Hawke spat, amber eyes burning with anger. “I said don’t fucking touch me.”

“Hawke,” his voice was more stern now, as if he were talking to a reluctant child, “they used magebane. That won’t heal unless I draw it out and you know that. Let me help you, please. I promise I won’t have to actually touch you.”

A moment passed before Hawke relaxed ever so slightly. True to his word, Anders kept his hands just above Hawke’s skin as he passed over the man’s wounds, skin slowly knitting back together. Hawke didn’t make a sound; very unusual for a man that whined like he was dying every time he stubbed his toe. 

Fenris felt like guilt was about to swallow him whole. His lover, and he did not try to hunt Hawke down after the first day passed with his absence. Hawke would have looked for him, would have torn the city down to find him, and Fenris sat and played Wicked Grace while templars inflicted Maker knows what horrors on the mage - on his mage. 

He wished he could bring them back just to kill them all over again. 

Anders finally sat back on his heels, face pinched tight. “That’s the best I can do, Hawke. You’re going to need to stay down for a while.”

“Like hell I am.”

“You’re in shock, Hawke. You’re not feeling the pain right now, but believe me, you will be soon.” He stood, and moved away after grabbing the tray of metal to dispose of it. Varric sat next to a quiet Hawke, telling him some story of Isabela’s to try and distract him. Fenris couldn’t stop his curiosity, and followed Anders to the flames. 

“What are those?”

Anders looked up at him as he stoked the fire a little more. “I shouldn’t be surprised you don’t know. Tevinter wouldn’t have these.” He held up a toothed prong first. “Takes out a tongue. Harder to cast spells if you can’t speak.” The next, a syringe. “Magebane residue in here. I’d guess all the cuts Hawke has are from blades coated in the poison.” The last one was a steel rod, a small sunburst made of iron on the tip. It was warm to the touch, Fenris could see that without needing to touch it. “You’ve seen this one before.”

“They…would’ve made him tranquil?” He could not keep the disgust out of his voice.

“After what they’ve probably done to him, tranquility would have been mercy.”

He couldn’t reply, stomach rolling at the thought of losing Hawke, permanently this time. He made his way back over to Hawke and Varric as Anders melted down the instruments, and sat as close to Hawke as the mage would allow.

“I should’ve come looking sooner,” he said, voice wavering just a little. “I did not, and apologizing is not enough.”

Hawke shrugged as much as he could. “Not like anyone knew, bastards got me in the middle of the night.”

“It will not happen again, Hawke, I swear it.” He finally looked up at Hawke, who tried smiling at him, but couldn’t hold it. “I will die before someone harms you again.”

“I won’t let you die for me, Fenris.” They both noticed Varric had left to help Anders; Fenris was grateful for the small bit of privacy it afforded them. “It happened. I just…won’t be okay for a while, that’s all.”

Fenris’s fingers twitched; he ached to touch Hawke in some way, but he understood. He knew what being a wounded animal felt like, and he was not willing to make Hawke feel that way any more than he already did. “I can be that for you, Hawke.”

Lygerastia - The condition of one who is only amorous when the lights are out.
 

Some would likely call it a self-esteem issue, but that couldn’t be closer to the truth. There was something about the dark that lent privacy, allowed for a different kind of intimacy where you didn’t have to be able to see things to be able to feel. It allowed for words to be said that were too much to be spoken in light. 

It also helped that it was the only way you could see anything glowing. That was probably Hawke’s favorite reason for keeping the lights off.

Whether it be the late hours of the night or in the early hours of the morn, Hawke was able to find Fenris with ease, curling around the other man as naturally as an old habit, one he hoped to have for a lifetime yet. 

Fenris shifted back into him, making a quiet noise in his sleep that had Hawke grinning like a fool. He was no longer standoffish when Hawke was affectionate in public, but in the dark of their bedroom there was no hesitation. He was just as bad as Hawke was, if not worse, always leaning into Hawke or finding a way to be in contact with the other man. 

And the best part of Fenris letting his guard down? The lyrium woven into his skin would glow soft as moonlight, just enough for Hawke to trace his fingers along the path they created, curving along his arms and shoulders. There was no clamoring for his magic to react to it, no danger to be found by shimmering in the night, no hiding spot to be caught in. 

“Ryder, no.”

Saoirse ignored  her, choosing to focus on tweaking her jump jet’s capabilities on her omnitool. She just needed to reroute a little more power to it from…somewhere.

“Are you even listening to me?”

“I think she’s ignoring you on purpose, Vetra.”

She could hear Vetra sigh in frustration behind her, and could nearly feel Cora’s disapproval. “I’ll be fine, guys, relax. This isn’t even the stupidest thing I’ve ever done.”

You've Got One (1) New Package (ao3 link)

vaporeon - tiger

jolteon - cheetah

flareon - lion

espeon - eurasian lynx

umbreon - melanated jaguar (black panther)

leafeon - clouded leopard

glaceon - snow leopard

sylveon - serval

evolution of my boy Mikey Shepard