#asks (merrill)

[bloodlaurel]

[ KILL ]:     sender, seeing the receiver in immediate and intentionally fatal danger, intervenes by killing their assailant before they can kill the receiver. - Baby & Merrill

Shining Armour Prompts @artifexx

Fighting Templars as a mage was always a risky prospect. After all, they were designed from the ground up to be the ultimate counter to mages. Merrill knew that and yet still she had managed to scrape through enough fights that she felt like perhaps their abilities were a wee bit overblown. Hyped up for the purposes of scaring mages into submission instead of actually cowing them. After all, fear could achieve just as much as a fist could and sometimes more.

Then she got his with the full blast of a Templar’s Silence and suddenly her opinion flipped a full hundred-and-eighty.

It is like receiving a punch to the gut from a bronto at full charge. Merrill’s knees gave out and she sank to the ground, wheezing and desperately trying to regain some semblance of orientation. Her head spun like she had drank a whole bottle of that Starkhaven whiskey Isabela let her try that had her singing Elvhen folk songs on top of a table in the Hanged Man. Except worse because she couldn’t regain her breath. Her staff was forgotten as she dug her hands into the cobbled stones of Hightown’s street desperate to try and find some sort of balance. Her magic helped her feel rooted to the earth and stone but the connection was completely severed so she felt a yawning void of nothing in her chest.

And all the while the Templar that had struck her advanced with sword drawn. A face-less mass of plate armour and murderous intent. All she had was her small knife on her, used to cut into her flesh and bring her blood to bear. It would be useless. Even if she managed to jam it in between the plates, Merrill doubted it would do much damage.

She closed her eyes and hung her head, accepting her fate. Tamlen. Mahariel. I failed. I’m so so sorry.

Then she felt something warm splatter across her cheek and through her hair. When she looked up the tip of a blade was protruding just between the small gap between helmet and breastplate. It was stained bright red with blood and the Templar made a gurgling noise. Behind them was Hawke, towering over the Templar like a mountain. Merrill could only blink up at the sight before her, emerald eyes wide. With a brutal motion, the blade was yanked to the side and the Templar’s neck suddenly tilted at a sickening angle, the white of the bone exposed and blood spraying out as they crumpled to a clanging pile just a few inches from where Merrill knelt

A noise escaped her and it sounded almost like a hiccup. Her heart and stomach also seemed to briefly swap places and then back again.

Hawke didn’t offer her a hand up but she managed to rise to her feet regardless. She felt like a newborn halla learning to walk. She took two shaky steps towards him, her small hand finding the exposed skin of his bicep.

“Ma Serannas.” Her native tongue slipping out before she shook her head and tried again “Thank you.”

Her cheeks felt warm and the smile she gave Hawke felt a little bit star-struck. She gave his arm a gentle squeeze and then abruptly realised it looked like she was trying to…what was it Isabela called it? “Feel him up”? Still she didn’t move. Her heart and stomach did that odd flip again as she stared up at him.

[bloodlaurel]

🧠 Jasper : can see him scratching his prosthetic because it itches

🧠 Cullen : after his coin is given to a romanced inquisitor he ends up with a worry stone

🧠 Serra : wears cherry chapstick after listening to I kissed a Girl.

🧠 Merril : names all the stray cats that seem to spend most of their time around her place

Send 🧠 and a headcanon you have about my muse @nekrotisch

Jasper: Absolutely. He experiences phantom limb in the form of his left hand being incredibly itchy. He has scratched at his prosthetic hoping to trick his brain into thinking he has dealt with it.

Cullen: I could see that being true. After so long having it, it feels weird to him that its not there in his pocket and he can't run his thumb over it (as a result one side of his coin is much more worn than the other). He would probably try a few things to break the habit before giving up.

Serra: She is a tomboy at heart but I could see that being true for a modern!AU Serra...especially if she has a significant other and she wants to tease them. The irony of her being a bisexual in denial and that song is completely lost on her.

Merrill: 1000% she does. They also are all either very cutesy names or Elvhen names. So you have Mr Fluffypants alongside Vher'gra (red cat).

[bloodlaurel]

🫟 🫟 avery, merrill

Send 🫟 for a random unfiltered thought from my muse @hopewrought

Is anyone in this fucking city capable of solving their own problems? [sigh] I suppose if they could I'd not be getting paid. Only ten more soverigns until we have enough for the expedition. I hope we find something down there or I may just decide to stay in the Deep Roads...no, can't do that. Who'd take care of Mother and Bethany? Not Gamlen, that's for fucking certain - Avery regularly during Act 1

I don't understand why she hates her magic so much. It's a gift. She's so strong and skilled too! What did the shemlen do to her to make her hate her own magic so much? - Merrill on Bethany

[bloodlaurel]

🫟🫟 (Serra, Cullen, Jasper, Merrill)

Send 🫟 for a random unfiltered thought from my muse @quiisquiliae

Who's a good boy? Who's my bestest boy? ...You know you have to give me the ball if you want me to throw it, right? Nope? No take only throw? [sigh] For such a smart dog, you can be so dumb at times. - Serra and the trials of playing fetch

He does realise I'm a grown woman, right? I don't need mother hen-ed! But...if I do go to bed I can make him cuddle me...and bring me food in bed...hmmm... - Serra and the pros and cons of being sick

Please, God, let this shift be somewhat normal. - Cullen the Firefighter and his morning prayers

What do you mean three dragons?! That can't be true. If there were three high dragons nesting that close to each other everyone and the Maker would know about it. They'd be killing each other! High dragons have huge territories. Who wrote this report? ...Oh...the Inquisitor did. Ah. Well...I guess we have seen stranger things since this mess began. - Cullen reading the after action report for Emprise du Lion

The next time Maria tells you to do something, say no. Even if it gets you disowned. No. Not happening. She can do it herself. - Jasper and realising his sister got him into this mess

If one more person makes the "do you need a hand" joke at me, I am stabbing them. - Jasper being really tired of that joke by now

[random song in Elvhen that she's also humming the tune to and occasionally muttering lyrics under her breath]

Oh I just thought of an amazing retort I could have made when Fenris was being mean earlier. Why didn't I think of it then?! Aww. It won't make sense if I use it without context. It's hard to think when he's glaring at me. At least Varric and Hawke told him to back off. Oh well. I'm sure he'll probably say something again at some stage. - Merrill and the trials of being in the party with Fenris

[bloodlaurel]

1b for shae and merrill, merrill receiving, of course!

Spicy Gif Prompts @reigningmuses

1b

The anniversary of her and Shaeva’s bonding was always special. After all, it was the celebration of them finally coming together and vowing to never be parted from each other again. Every year that passed just proof that the promises they made to each other were strong and true.

Merrill wondered, however, how much privacy they would be able to have in Skyhold. She didn’t regret answering the Inquisitor’s call. Far from it. It was an important job and one that was necessary to help keep the world from tumbling over the edge…but it was slightly awkward that she and her wife would not be able to have the same private time they had enjoyed before with soldiers and dignitaries and refugees all over the fortress in the mountains.

They did have their private quarter and that would have to do. Especially when Shaeva had told her with a wink and a knowing smile that she had “a special present” for her.

Merrill wasn’t sure what she expected but a dildo was not it.

It was thick. Thicker than any toy they had ever used in the past. So thick Merrill eyed it with some trepidation wondering how it could possibly fit even with her own slick and extra lubricant on top. It only flared wider after the bulbous head. She would be walking strangely for a few days after taking that monster. It also was smattered with odd bumps along the shaft.

Her thighs grew wet just looking at it.

So when she presented herself, hips up and legs spread wide, for Shaeva it was a heady mix of arousal and nervousness that fluttered in her gut. They could absolutely try to fuck her with it and had made sure to slick the toy so much she wondered how Shaeva was able to get a good grip on it.

“Oh Creators!”

Being breached burned. Stretched wider than she had ever been, Merrill felt a tremble run through her whole body. Shaeva’s hand was steady on her lower back and she could hear her wife shushing her and murmuring praise as she pushed the tip further inside. Merrill felt tears spring in her eyes. If that was just the tip then Mythal save her trying to take the rest. Finally the whole head slipped inside and she let out a shaky breath.

But it felt good. The pain only making the feel of being fucked open that much more visceral. She felt Shaeva pull back slightly and rock the toy back in and Merrill sobbed.

She would be so sore tomorrow but Creators she loved her wife and her brilliant ideas for breaking her.

[bloodlaurel]

[ bondage ] wrists bound, legs spread—your muse takes what they want while mine is completely helpless ( reverse, shae and merrill )

Delicious Scenarios @reigningmuses

Shaeva never seemed bothered about the things Merrill wanted to try. Isabela was a constant source of ideas for what she and her wife could get up to in the privacy of their own bedroom. The pirate seemed to delight in tossing an idea into the wind and then smiling knowingly when Merrill got a contemplative look on her face. She and Shaeva weren’t innocents by any stretch but Isabela seemed to have ideas that Merrill would have never dreamed of even trying.

Tonight was another suggestion that the pirate had graciously supplied with a wink.

It had taken an age to tie her up properly, half restraint and half decoration. How Shaeva knew how to do it, Merrill decided she could ask that once they’d had their fun. Rope tied her wrists securely behind her, folded against her mid back. It looped up around her neck and back down her front. It was a series of intricate knots exposing some skin and covering other bits. Thick double strands wound around both her breasts, giving them some support and emphasising them even though there wasn’t a great deal to emphasise. On down her hips it went, leaving her core exposed but forcing her knees bent and spread as wide as they could go.

The only down side that from where she was —on her knees at Shaeva’s feet — there was no way to tell how excited she was. Merrill was wet, her slick thick and dripping from her exposed core onto the floor beneath her. It was exciting, being exposed like this and utterly helpless except to be done with what Shaeva wished.

Merrill let out a soft whine, pressing forward so she could nuzzle at the soft skin of Shaeva’s lower stomach. She wanted her vhenan so badly. She wanted to her to tell her what to do or do what she wanted without any care for what Merrill thought. She wanted that blissful fuzz that came with being used until her body was overwhelmed. Instead it seemed that her lover wanted to admire the hard work she’d put into tying her up like a particularly elaborate gift for herself.

She felt a hand brush her chin, her head forced up to meet Shaeva’s gaze. Oh she was so beautiful. Merrill could stare at her forever. She sometimes did and then was caught with a dreamy look on her face as her mind floated on how lucky she was to have her vhenan.

Her face was guided gently to the apex of Shaeva’s thighs. Merrill knew what was wanted of her without a word being spoken. She waited a moment for her wife to spread her legs before she leaned forwards to bury her face there. The musky scent was familiar and always went straight to Merrill’s brain, helping sent her into that haze that she enjoyed so much. Her vhenan clearly enjoyed seeing her displayed and helpless like this. Merrill felt a surge of pride and happiness at the thought she was so wanted and admired.

She pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the top of Shaeva’s mound, her focus narrowed to making her vhenan happy. With no hands to help her, it wasn’t easy to spread Shaeva’s folds and expose the pink flesh hidden there. Thankfully, Shaeva did that for her, parting herself so Merrill could run her tongue along her swollen clit. The taste of her on her tongue — salty and perfect — made Merrill shiver and goosebumps rise along her arms and down her back.

Her gaze found Shaeva’s again as she leaned forward and capture her sensitive bud in her mouth, suckling on her and lashing her gently with her tongue.

[bloodlaurel]

Plunge - One of our muses fingering the other (merrill)

Smut Prompts @heclaymore

It was probably the most impulsive thing Merrill had ever done. Impulsive in a way that blood magic and the decision to leave her clan had definitely not been, no matter what anyone thought. Those decisions had been carefully weighed in her mind for weeks even months before she had finally plucked up the courage to actually do it. Her whole life had been carefully planned, up to a point. She planned to become Keeper until the Blight and then she planned a new course for herself.

Kissing Carver Hawke the night before he and Hawke Hawke were supposed to go on the expedition with Varric? That was entirely impulse and also the Starkhaven whiskey Isabela had poured into her mug “to make the ale taste drinkable”.

Maybe also because she had developed a bit of a crush on the younger Hawke.

Carver kissed like he was a drowning man. She wasn’t sure if it was because he actually liked her too or he was just starved for attention in his elder sibling’s shadow. Merrill didn’t particularly care. She just clung to him - and Creators there was a lot of Carver Hawke to cling to - and tried to match him. It was awkward and more intense than anything she’d ever experienced before and she wasn’t sure if it was the kissing or the alcohol that was making her head swim.

They hadn’t made it further than the door of her hovel in the Alienage. She was firmly trapped between the wood on one side and Carver with all his muscle on the other.At some stage, possibly to save his poor neck and back bending over, he had picked her up and pinned her hips with his. She squirmed only a little to get herself in a better position to continued kissing him but the press of something hard against her stomach gave her pause.

Oh Creators, she thought, is that…? Her cheeks flushed red and she throbbed at the thought of that. He’d probably half kill her but oddly that seemed to make her throb harder and she whined into his mouth.

The next most impulsive thing she did after kissing Carver Hawke was pull her tunic up - exposing the pale skin of her belly - so she could push her leggings down over her hips. They got caught just below her knees and she thought she might look a bit silly with her leggings half on and half off. She was too fuzzy to get a read on the reaction that had on Carver’s face but she had never been particularly adept at reading expressions beyond the obvious anyways. He didn’t pull away from her. That had to mean—

Her train of thought was cut off at the feeling of his fingers at her inner thighs. Merrill stiffened but didn’t move to stop him. His fingers were rough from callouses and the way they rasped over the sensitive skin made her head thump back against the door. If she wasn’t seeing stars from that then she definitely was sure she did when she felt one finger slide through her folds and inside her.

The noise she made she thought sounded like it was somewhere half way between a gasp and the sound an injured halla made. Her own fingers dug into the muscle of his bicep as if she needed something to physically anchor herself. He held still and she wondered if it was because he thought she was actually in pain. She forced herself to breathe out even if it came out in a shudder. Even if she was in pain, Merrill and pain were old acquaintances. Pain was not something she feared.

“S-Sathan.” It was probably the first word she’d actually said aloud to him. Please. She squirmed again against him, her breath hitching when it pushed her up an inch or two only to come down on his hand again.

From what she’d felt of him, she would definitely need more than one of his fingers inside her for that.

[bloodlaurel]

don't pay attention to them. - Anton Hawke & Merrill

An Assortment of Dialogue Prompts @artifexx

It was hard, not letting Anders and Fenris get to her. Merrill tried, pushing down their harsh words and demeaning names and moving on. She was used to people not understanding why she did what she did. Her whole clan hadn't understood even though her actions had always been for them...and for Mahariel and Tamlen. In the end blood magic was a tool the same as any other and if they were too small-minded to see that then she probably shouldn't bother with them.

Some days, however, were harder than others.

Today was one of those days.

Maybe it was because of the fact that she had to return to the clan to get the Arulin'Holm. Maybe it was the sheer terror in Pol's eyes when he saw her. Maybe it was the senselessness of his death to the Varterral. Why had he run? Why? The question bounced around in her mind ceaselessly.

You are a monster, Fenris had said. Maybe he was thinking, 'Aaah! Blood mage!' That seems the most likely scenario, Anders had said. If she hadn't already been crying then Merrill was sure she would have started at those two heartless responses. She had wanted to round on both of them, scream in their faces, and rage that they had no idea what they were talking about. She had wanted to but instead she had just lowered her head and let her tears fall.

Hawke's words startled her out of her gloomy thoughts. She turned her gaze up at him, green eyes red-rimmed and puffy. A part of her wanted to be angry at him. After all that, he had refused to give her the Arulin'Holm. He didn't believe in her the same way Marethari didn't believe in her. Pol's death would ultimately mean nothing.

But his words were soothing. She sniffed, wiping at her face. "It's hard." she told the ground at her feet. "You - you don't think I'm a monster...do you?"