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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

#lxvelesspassixn #➛Speak now or forever hold your tongue #➛Injustice at its finest #➛Justice Freedom & Death #changedcharger;v #drabble

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13 | hand kiss

it's another ball, another political dance of alliances and broken relationships and nobles sleeping with other nobles and then stabbing them in the crotch area. arivis is uncomfortable, pressing lips tight together as she stands next to dorian to avoid the next round of interested parties from asking the famous herald of andraste for the blessing of a dance.

"i hate this," she mutters to dorian, and doesn't look up to see if the snort she hears comes from him or not.

they meet each other's eye and it begins to look up from there -- by the end of the night arivis is standing close by him yet again, discussing important things with a group of nobles that had appeared as if from nowhere.

"so you do... a lot of investing?" one asks with his accent clipped as arivis sips her drink plaintively, looking like the picture of simple contentment (though, barely disguised amusement slips through when she forces down a smile).

"the inquisition likes to dabble," arivis says, very seriously. "i recently invested in some armor i bought in redcliffe -- left that at camp, on the way here." a small, fake laugh, and the noble is staring at the both of them until arivis blurts, "the economy," and dorian gives a worse fake laugh until she joins in and the nobles walk away.

dorian kisses her hand kindly when the party has finally ended, and arivis grins.

#lxvelesspassixn #im literally wheezing this is all i could picture #PARKS N REC...#asks

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