Dec 18, 2014
lieutenantkrem liked this
❝ so... uh, are we going to talk about that? ❞
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lieutenantkrem liked this
❝ so... uh, are we going to talk about that? ❞
✿
lxvelesspassixn sent me a ✿
7: firm kiss
anders isn’t good with words, not having the grace of his old friend companion varric, nor having the fun loving stubbornness of kirkwall’s champion he misses them so much. as evidence has even proven, his mouth has got him into more trouble than he could count on both, his hands and feet so, he speaks in a different language. a language that only few in his presence have seen him perform.
with strong hands and nimble fingers, lanky digits cup the back of the tevine’s head, pulling him into the crock of his neck. Dorian in turn gasps audibly, eyelash tickling anders’ bobbing adams apple the smooth talker was so cute when surprised.
he doesn’t allow hesitation to take over. before anders can think of all the possible ways this could go wrong, he tugs the mans hair, tilting him up before pushing his mouth to dorian’s, savoring those plump dark lips and allowing himself to drown in the man’s intoxicating cologne.
a kiss that screams hunger, the brush of teeth along the dark haired tevine’s lower lip crying d e s i r e but, the slight tremble of his fingers showing, fear however, he dares not pull away, for if this was to be not only the first, but the last time their lips join he would savor their time t o g e t h e r
firm: strongly felt and unlikely to change
abirxto liked this
Head down, Anders shuffled nervously in spot, not wanting to catch the attention of the ex-Templar, who, most likely wanted his head.
templarnolonger liked your post
He stood, sword awkwardly clutched in hand as he stared at the practice dummy. Why had he insisted on mastering blade? He need not hide that he was a mage his fellow chargers were well aware, some 'archers' going as far as to admire his work with arcane. Perhaps, he was attracted to the [ f i n e s s e ] and grace of a warriors dance, or enchanted by the gleam of silver in sunlight as the sturdy blade swipes in the light, reflecting white-gold off it's pristine edges. '–Or maybe I just like making a blight'd fool out of myself.'
miseritus liked this
Although the boy had been watching the mage from a distance, Anders was sure that he could've felt that stare all the way in Orlais. It had been more than an appropriate amount of time that the stick like figure had been staring at him work, noting that the strangers curious eyes never faltered as he observed Anders precise care to a wound on his bicep, the mages talents in magical healing coming in good use. Feeling as though he could no longer take the awkwardness, he finally turns to the blonde. "---Can I help you?"
"I wouldn't tell you to stop."
He smirks confidentially, raising his blonde brows at the man's boldness. As if on cue, Anders sets his bare forearms onto the bar, eyeing the handsome stranger. "I'll keep that in mind."
thescionofhousepavus liked your post:Also, like for a short starter
Wearing only a loose maroon tunic and black trousers, the mage looks towards the intruder, parchment in one hand an quill in the other.
"Can I help you?" Anders questions, placing his things down as he turns towards the figure, assuming that he had an injury of some sort (word traveled fast in the barracks that he was a talented healer).
Open
Armor clunks down the dirt road, the mages hood pulled over his head for protection of sunlight, not wanting to overheat and cause trouble for his fellow men.