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“ Solas , I heard you’ve witnessed a few past events by way of the Fade. The battle at Ostagar among them. I was wondering ----- ” He paused and licked his lips , his mouth all of a sudden drier than he felt comfortable with. “ If you’ve ever come across Highever ? ”

FENDEURS | ♡

#fendeurs #* dragnslyr | verse ( tbd )#lmk if its okay!

"Tell me that I am yours." The very notion of effortlessly breathed words would have curdled Solas' blood only years prior; he was a feral beast, beholden and belonging to none but his own whim. Yet now, spirit and body alike entangled in morning embrace, and fingers tracing incomprehensible designs into the edges of Dorian's jaw, they spurred only swells of love far from his past self's grasp. Whether or not Solas was indulged in desire for verbal caress hardly (1/2 bc I can't control myself)

mattered; wild things could be domesticated without a leash, whip, or grand promise. Sometimes all it took was a little patience, and a great deal of tenderness.(2/2)

Beloved and precious timehad been stolen away in hours of dusk during the previous evening – each of them expressing passion and pleasure bound up in what human forms could muster. Though as a symphony, the energy of their music dwindled with the coming of the sun as it lazily peeked through loose hung curtains on a high window, casting shadows of misshapen leaves on bare skins of bronze and cream. Now they had lain in wistful carelessness, ensnared in each others tangled limbs as ragged breaths slowed in rhythm. Dorian lay in a mass of curls, head tilting slightly upward on his pillow as lids fluttered to a close in an act of pure bliss.

Nearly chest to chest, they had remained motionless for what felt like hours, the now lingering touch of Solas’s fingertips across his jaw was the only movement produced besides the subtle rise and fall of collective breathing. It was at the sound of restful breathed words that Dorian’s own inhale had seemed to take pause. For he had grown accustomed to foul and angry laced comments, a shield of witty retorts to combat any situation when needed. Though he had melted at such genuine kind words that he could only respond with silence. Though caramel colored arms wrapped in a gentle squeeze around Sola’s waist, pressing flesh to flesh in a gesture of mute compliance.

#fendeurs #;; suggestive #( I crie ;~; )#( FUck you )#( donT MAKe ME fEEL )

"Will you still like to know my thoughts?"

@fendeurs | crimson peak starters | accepting

Séaghdha sighed through the pout that had cemented itself to his features of late, exhausted from too many stressful nights of no sleep. Still, for his friend, he attempted a smile. ❝Of course, hahren. I am always willing to listen to what you have to say.❞

#• meme answer #• verse ( dragon age | main )#fendeurs #answered

It’s the faintest sound of a quill SNAPPING and it’s a perfect metaphor for the realization settling into his very mind. That nagging sensation ? The one he constantly felt about his newest novel, that piece of n u g s h i t currently residing beneath his chair ? The one written and rewritten, time and time again : he nary had scribbled a decent storyline ; there’s nothing completely believable or compelling about the main hero ( or heroine -- that had been a decision for another time ) and ESPECIALLY the villain, who’s motives were completely unknown and beyond the scope of reality and ... Rambling thoughts, that insincere gesture when an idea overwhelms and captivates. A soft MURMUR from the mage beside him ( barely heard, barely sought ) , something along the lines of an enemy behind lines, a rival amongst the crowd, and that taboo nothing he daren’t trust because it felt all too real: a friend who betrays. But also, a tilt of a pale head and soft lips CREASE into a smile -- even moreso: the concept that the hero is actually the villain in their own story.

That’s an andraste-damned series in the making.

Thick brows FURROW, whiskey eyes blinking wide, and it’s without thought that fingers reach to ply, yanking down to PRESS his chapped mouth against the crest of a brow bone. An affectionate and somewhat aggressive doubt of thanks.

Varric grins, patting back against the other’s robed lapels, “ -- CHUCKLES, you’re a damn genius . And here I thought you were only good for being cryptic and not nearly half as broody as another elf I know. ” // @fendeurs

#fendeurs #how bout a lil appreciate for that brilliant egghead of urs solas #a kiss for that #on that egghead #in all seriousness i hope this is fine alsdkfj

"Yes. I heard. It was the only thing I heard."

@fendeurs | critical role sentence starters

“Ah yes… Varric. He does love his stories.” Fenris breathed out in exasperation, head tipping back to watch one of the lingering crows perched on a railing above them. Admittedly, he’s a little unsettled by this mage - but less so than he may have expected himself to be. Odd. “Though I doubt he colors any of the tales he tells with the whole truth. What have you heard?”

#fendeurs #☷ TALES OF THE INQUISITION.