Currently a demon/angel/vampire drawer but perhaps someday a wardrobe...
This is my main blog where all my important stuff goes, but for other spam/sketchbook pages/random tumblr things you can also follow my side blog @starrstarrfishfish that I often forget exists <3 You don't miss anything by not following me there but I am 1% more unhinged occasionally (aka i talk about how badly i need blodgrim bloodriven to kill himself)
Please talk to me I love talking, my DMs are always open and I love getting asks (I'm kinda horrendous at answering them in a timely manner so I'm sorry but please don't be shy hehe)
Sending requests via ask is totally fine just please be nice about it, being demanding is the #1 way to get me to not do anything lmao
i do occasionally draw everyone else but those 3 are my special boys <3 all characters are tagged under #obey me [character] so go wild if you wanna look for a specific one
I've also been obsessed with Ex and Bee ever since it was announced! I love the whole cast but Bee is everything to me I love him sooo bad <333
Ex and Bee Art / Bee / Ex / Blod / Nero
cloudy star dividers by @uzmacchiato, star dividers by me!
i think exactly 2 people will understand this and they will be me and
@pseudonymphomania
i thought it'd also be fun to do betrayal scenarios for both but it accidentally ended up a bit more angsty than i'd intended whoops!!
i'll try to find time to draw out a good ending for them but i've been so busy this month :,D
HAPPY SUPER BELATED BIRTHDAY @shootingstarrfish!!! I LOVE YOU SO MUCH! This idea randomly came to me. I hope you like it!
Characters: Björn Dimorgard x Sidra (MC, he/they),
Fandom: Ex and Bee
Misunderstandings, established relationship
No warning apply
“I need a haircut,” Sidra murmured to himself, leaning over the bathroom sink to peer into the mirror. He inhaled, stockpiling air in his cheeks just to huff, flopping his bangs with the exhale.
Bee didn’t glance up from the book resting in his lap. He shifted a bit, sinking deeper into the old couch in the breakroom of the Del Luz Detective Agency. Wrinkling his nose at the scent of mothballs that only he could discern, he volleyed, “Yeah, you’ve been looking extra shaggy lately.”
Sidra gasped in mock offense. “Are you saying you don’t find me adorable anymore?”
“I never said that,” Bee immediately soothed his boyfriend. This time, he closed the book and set it aside, rising to loiter in sight of the bathroom. Sidra played with the rosy pink strands that peeked out from his chocolate brown mop, trying to style their overgrown hairstyle with the desperation of a dog learning a new trick to earn a treat. A reedy whine vibrated in his throat, only further illustrating Bee’s mental image. He chuckled, “Actually, you might be more adorable. At this point, you could play a beloved sheepdog sidekick in a detective movie.”
“Make it a documentary of our lives and then we’ll talk.” Sidra’s pout caught Bee off guard. He had expected them to laugh.
Guilt curdled in Bee’s stomach. “You look great,” he insisted, leaning against the frame of the bathroom door.
“I know,” Sidra beamed. He flashed his right hand, a pop of carefully tapered neon pink tips. “I just got my nails done. They were getting way too long.”
Bee offered a soft smile, nodding his acknowledgement as Sidra finally pulled themself away from the mirror. Just in time, too, for the phone atop the desk that bore his name began to ring. Bee swung his broad frame to the side as if he himself were the door, allowing Sidra to pass on their way to answer the call.
Sidra checked him with their hip as he passed, a playful grin lifting their lips. He sped through the small hallway connecting the tiny breakroom to their main office, tripping over his feet and brushing his calf against his desk leg. To Bee’s surprise, Sidra’s face contorted with discomfort, a low hiss of pain drowned by the shrill ring of the phone.
Before Bee could ask, Sidra was spewing, “Thank you for calling the Del Luz Detective Agency. This is Sidra speaking. How may I help you?” The crease between his brows and his narrowed eyes only accented their tone, tight with pain.
Concern struck Bee like lightning. He zeroed in on Sidra’s leg, searching for any sign of swelling. To any normal person, their calf seemed fine.
Luckily, Bee was far from a normal person.
Unfortunately, not even his heightened senses could pick up anything out of the ordinary. Perhaps some additional heat from the meatiest part of their calf. Nothing that demanded immediate attention.
“Mhmm, okay.” Sidra nodded, shooting Bee a suspicious side eye. “Yes, we would be interested in meeting with you. Can I get your e-mail? I will send you more information about our services.”
The phone clicked into its holder as the call ended, Sidra fixing Bee with a raised brow before they turned and began to jot down notes on a rumpled piece of lined paper, hastily torn from a disheveled journal.
As the tip of their pen swerved over curved consonants, Bee tried, “Are you okay?”
“Hm?” Sidra’s bangs flopped with the speed at which they lifted their head, chocolate eyes widening in confusion. “Yeah, of course. Just someone looking for occult investigators. Nothing out of the ordinary there.”
Bee ventured a step forward. The foot of his prosthetic clicked against the wooden floor. “No, I mean your leg. Did you hurt it?”
“Oh.” Sidra blinked. He shrugged in a manner slightly too nonchalant. “It’s fine. Just a bite.”
“A bite?” Bee pressed, “What kind?”
“A…Bug bite.”
Bee narrowed his eyes. “...Okay.”
“So anyway,” Sidra changed the subject by plucking a post-it note from the edge of their computer display. “Ex wanted us to head to the docks. There’s a vendor at the seaside market who claims a demon has possessed their kettle.”
And all Bee could do was nod, turning the key in his car’s ignition. Pushing the pedal, Bee drove towards the coast to the soundtrack of whatever tune was on loop in Sidra’s head. As the car hugged the curve of a cliff, descending to the dock district lined with warehouses and fishmongers, Bee swallowed down his growing concern that something was terribly wrong. A bug bite was nothing. There was absolutely no correlation between a bite and an increase in hair and nail growth.
Right?
“Ugh, I would die for a hamburger right now.” Sidra pierced Bee’s thoughts like a needle to a rubber balloon. He slumped in his seat, letting their head loll onto their shoulder. Their fingers tented upon his stomach. “But like, a triple patty burger.”
A chill ran up Bee’s spine. His tongue felt heavy against the floor of his mouth, and he swallowed thickly. “Any reason why?”
Sidra yawned, rubbing their eyes with his knuckles. “I’m just craving something meaty, you know?”
Bee bit his tongue, his elongated incisor digging into the fleshy muscle. On some level, Bee really did know. However, Bee had a growing suspicion that it wasn’t quite the same desire. Close, but different. Cousins, not siblings.
Hesitantly, he clarified, “Would you settle for anything else?”
Sidra shrugged, “Maybe some roast beef. Ah, or braised lamb.”
Bee balked. Red meat. That much was clear.
He hated that he was about to do this, but he needed to know. Tentatively, he sniffed at the air around Sidra.
Nothing out of the ordinary.
Unfortunately, Sidra noticed. Mirroring his movements, Sidra made a show of sucking in air through his nostrils. It surprised Bee when their eyes lit up in excitement.
Sidra beamed, “Do you smell that?”
“No?”
“You don’t?” They were practically vibrating in their seat. He had already unbuckled his seatbelt, worn sneaker thrust out the door of the car as he explained, “I swear I smell cat. Let’s go find it!”
And maybe the hairs on the back of Bee’s neck stood stalk straight as he followed Sidra down an alley in the middle of the sketchy dock district. Maybe he flashed his fangs at any onlooker who stared. Maybe, just maybe, he angled his hand in the pocket of his baggy jacket to appear as though he was carrying a weapon. One could never be too careful in these parts.
He refused to acknowledge that he had access to silver bullets.
It wouldn’t be necessary.
…He hoped.
As Sidra pouted–the cat lost to the sharp turns of the back streets–Bee took the lead, guiding them back to the vendor stalls that lined the seaside. They sauntered side by side, an easy, unsuspicious gait that would do little to alert passersby. They paused at a fresh fish stall, Sidra easily entertained by the rainbow reflection on the scales of freshwater trout.
Bee took note of the bob of Sidra’s throat as they swallowed, chalked it up to saliva gathering in his mouth out of hunger. Sidra turned his attention to the fresh cuts of meat sold by the local butcher, and Bee decided to do some mental math.
“Hey,” he spoke after a while, “Are you free on Saturday? Do you want to stay over?”
Bee’s heart sank when Sidra stiffened, peeling his eyes away from a fatty striploin to stare at the ground. Bee bent his knees, playfully ducked his head and tried to meet their gaze.
“I, uh,” Sidra fussed, playing with the buttons of their cardigan, “I can’t.”
“Why’s that?”
“I have plans already.”
Bee could hear his pulse, thudding swiftly in his ears. It physically pained him to clarify, “Overnight?”
“Yeah.” Sidra’s nod was frantic, so exaggerated that their hair bounced, drawing Bee’s attention to just how long the strands had grown.
Perhaps it was his natural desire to explain the unexplainable. Perhaps it was panic. Either way, Bee reached past Sidra, his arm shooting across his chest to grab a silver ornament from the table of a nearby vendor. Brandishing the bejeweled antiquity, Bee forced it into Sidra’s space and blurted, “What do you think of this broach?!”
Sidra recoiled with a squawk, throwing up their hands like a flesh barrier. “Ew, get that away from me!”
Bee was stunned, anguished, devastated. He could barely keep the tears from his eyes as he let his shoulders drop, as he tossed the broach back onto the vendor’s table. With a sigh so strangled it almost resembled a whimper, Bee plopped two large palms onto Sidra’s shoulders, spinning them to face him. They stared at him with big, bewildered eyes as he asked, “Sidra, were you bitten by a werewolf?”
“What?” Sidra’s confusion was but a soft exhale and a tilt of the head, followed by a pouty, “No!”
Bee gulped, concern that he had upset his boyfriend warring with the fear that said boyfriend may indeed be a werewolf. Grasping at straws, he threw out, “But your hair is growing out! And you just got your nails done–like you were hiding how sharp they had gotten!”
Sidra gawked. “That is normal human behavior.”
And how dare they make Bee feel like he was the crazy one?! With a quick counter, Bee argued, “Then how do you explain the cravings for meat?”
Sidra simply shrugged. “I mean, I could also go for french fries or sushi.”
Bee felt the heavy weight of relief mingling with the acrid taste of humiliation. It sunk onto his shoulders, permeated his skin and lingered on the back of his tongue. His vitriol was fading as he volleyed, “You shied away from silver!”
Still, Sidra stared, completely unimpressed. “Bee, the broach was ugly.”
It was all Bee could do to weakly offer, “Then how do you explain your plans on the night of the full moon?!”
“Oh!” And Bee didn’t know if he should feel relieved or angry that Sidra laughed, “I’m not a werewolf! There’s a midnight release of the new Defy Me! game!”
So there they stood, a vampire and a–apparently–completely normal human, in front of an antique jeweller who was most definitely fed up with their loitering. The woman hissed an insult in a foreign language, shooing them away from her stall the moment Bee returned the broach to its rightful home.
“Then…” Bee asked as he settled into the driver’s seat of his car, their hunt for the possessed kettle a dead end, “It really is just a bug bite?”
“Well, no,” Sidra admitted, turning away from where he had been gazing out the window. There was an embarrassed blush dancing upon the apples of his cheeks, a faint pink that matched the highlights of his hair. “That was a lie.”
“What do you mean?” Bee asked, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel. This time, the beat followed the melody that oozed from the radio. Bee found himself preferring Sidra’s humming.
“It’s a Whiskers bite.” As though divulging conspiratorial secrets, Sidra whipsered, “I didn’t want to tell you or Ex about it, because well, you know how Ex is about Whiskers.”
Bee nodded sagely, “He can do no wrong.”
“Exactly.” Sidra leaned back in the passenger seat. “But it got infected. I went to the doctor and got some ointment for it, but it’s still a little sore.”
The silence hung like a song between them. As the radio soothed another chorus, Sidra reached over to entwine their fingers over the middle console. He squeezed once.
Bee deflated, his palm warm and his heart full. “I’m so glad you’re not a werewolf.”
“Nope,” Sidra grinned, his canines sharp and glinting. “Just your beloved sheepdog sidekick.”
Since I am running this on multiple platforms, see a universal view of the event by going to dialuciweek.carrd.co. It will be updated periodically as the event unfolds.
Recap of last year’s event
I’ll be running this annually regardless, but if you want to support this event, consider tipping my kofi. It helps me buy prizes and pay for worldwide shipping. Very optional.
Thank you in advance for any and all ♥️ and ♻️ on this post!
