#merver

[shadowgasp]

Pike being 100% her character is making me want to rewatch campaign 1 again

Matthew you are NAILING THIS

[thedastrash]

Arlathan Stories!

I got to write @amarmeme another piece for the Arlathan exchange. I cannot believe I matched with her in both exchanges I was so surprised lol! This one is for Merrill & Carver's first time getting frisky and it was so fun to write them. Rated E, I hope you enjoy <3

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

I received the incomparably sweet gift of Vela, Zev, & Alistair being adorable in the hot springs together from Actually_An_Insane_Fangirl on AO3!! I am always blown away when someone wants to tackle my OCs and their dynamic was so cute, thank you!! Everyone else go read & comment your love <3

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[ghilan-maim]

So, I found this in my Google Docs, completely finished but never posted. It's a few years old, and the first time I ever really tried to write any sexual content. It's not super explicit but I read it and thought it was kind of cute so I'm deciding to post it!

Rating: Mature Words: 1266 Fandom: Dragon Age 2 Ship: Merrill/Carver Hawke Tags: tickle fights, first time together, admission of love, established feelings, vague timeline, playful sex, no plot just vibes

They don't know how they got there, rolling about on her shabby bed like children pinching and tickling away at one another. When they came up for air, Carver's flat on his back with Merrill perched on his thigh — a laughable sight for their size difference, he hadn't been distracted by the heaving of her chest and the pink to her cheeks. She can’t help but giggle as she looks down on him. Merrill's thoughts are Carver, Carver, Carver as she leans forward, practically topples onto him, the length of her body pressing against his.

He thinks her lashes are impossibly long, when green eyes gaze at him from underneath a curtain of them. He thinks lips are sweet, when they brush against his and neither can say who it is but before long they're grappling at each other anew, a more mature push and pull than before. Merrill's gasps and moans are a melody against his lips as he grabs her hip, holds her in place just as she straddles his waist, pinning him in place. He didn't know if he expected innocence or experience, but there is something unhesitating in the way she moves her hips against him.

Not practiced, perhaps, but not afraid. "Carver.." Her voice pulls their eyes together again and her hand splayed on his chest feels almost like a brand — hot, searing but it's not pain. Just a jolt south that her eyes seem to follow and he blushes for a moment to match the flush creeping up under her vallaslin. Nod, nod, it's all he can do and her hand is slower now as it traces downwards, her body shimmying down as well and brushing against his suddenly quite sensitive guest under his breeches.

"Merrill," He all but gasps as she undoes the laces there, pulls him from his pants with something like curiosity in her wide eyes. The words that fall past her lips garner a chuckle, his palm smears across his face because of course she would say something like that. It's perfect, nothing like the way the ladies at the Blooming Rose tried to be sexy at every turn.

He didn't want that. He wanted Merrill, callused palm against sensitive skin exclaiming on a giggle, "Not such a little Hawke after all." with him half-hard in her hand. For her part, Merrill didn't falter long. She experimented with the way she moved her hand up and down, removing it only to spit in her palm and get a groan from Carver in the process. He tried not to think it was cute when she just gave a musical laugh in response.

With her hand working him harder by the second, Merrill fluidly lays her body alongside his, leg hiked over one of his and face buried in his neck peppering kisses there. For a moment, he's frozen. The sensations she's giving him are a lot and he's thought about her — Maker, how he's thought about her. But youthful excitement wins out over any lack of experience they both might have.

He turns his head to capture her lips, angles their bodies so that his free hand can explore the dips of her body as she lays there on her side. It's awkward but she practically jolts when his hand touches her ass and he takes the way she molds herself closer as a good sign. Merrill feels wanton for the display but it's hardly a shame-filled thought. Rutting against his thigh for the hope that she might brush against the sensitive bundle of nerves hidden between her thighs.

She pushes against him as his hand slides her tunic up, "On your back, vhenan," and oh what a thrill it is when he heeds her command effortlessly taking her with him. With her tunic discarded to the side, she's near frantic to work off her leggings, to feel skin on slick skin. His hands come to help and when they hear a rip, there's a pause as wide green eyes meet wide blue.

It's decidedly unsexy, the little snort of a laugh she gives but he laughs too and Carver is glad again of how much better this is. Merrill is glad of someone who will accept her quirks, even in moments like these. But quirks don’t distract from the fire in their bellies for long and Merrill is straddling his hips anew, both bare at the waist as she settles herself atop him.

It’s not the sensation he’d been wanting, but it still gets a groan from him to feel her wet folds envelope his underside. When she works her hips — tempoed twists and twirls — he sits to hold her as she finds her pleasure giving him plenty in turn. The sounds from falling past her lips are delicious and he’s greedy to taste them, covering her mouth with his so that every gasp she makes falls into his lungs.

Neither can say how long they sit there, entwined with only the noises of their moans and bodies moving against one another. Carver’s so close when her hips jerk and sweet elven sentiments reach his ears. Merrill’s breathing is hard, like she’s coming down and he wants to see her reach that peak more closely next time.

Laying them down, Merrill almost gives a whine as he tucks himself behind her back, extricating them from their embrace and leaving them both feeling chilled from the loss of warmth. “Carver, you haven’t —” He shushes her only to be met with her wiggling her bottom against his hardness.

He groans a “Merrill” that sounds almost a growl if her little meep is any indication. It doesn’t stop her movements — slows them, perhaps, to a slow rotation before the dip at the small of her back deepens and he feels her wetness against him again. If he needed any more invitation, Merrill isn’t hesitant to give it.

She reaches behind her to guide him in and they both sigh as he delves into her warmth. He stills, a moment, adjusts himself to the sensation of her walls around him. Tight and hot, he breathes her name as his hips start to work a slow, steady rhythm.

Merrill’s hips chase every beat, a low moan falling past her lips as she chases the steady fastening of his movements. Before long her back is pasted to his chest, one arm reaching behind her to hold his neck, the other between her thighs hastening the pleasure he’s giving. “Carver — vhenan,” She sighs and he wonders again what exactly that word means as he drives faster into her, harder as one arm holds her close.

When she tightens around him, gasps so hard he knows she’s breathless, he just continues on. Merrill can feel herself moving around him, the wave of pleasure crashing in her gut as her toes curl and her head falls back against him. She can tell how close he is by the erratic movement of his hips, riding on the aftershocks of her orgasm when he spends himself on her thigh with her name on his lips.

She can’t help the mischievous sort of giggle she lets out and he just sighs, half post-orgasm sigh and half exasperated. “Maker, Merrill —” a moment, a breath, “What’s vhenan mean?” It sounds clumsy on his tongue, which he expects is why he gets a little snort and a louder giggle.

A touch too exuberant given their — ehm — exercise, she turns to him with a broad smile: “My heart, Carver. Ma vhenan.”

[pathosian]

Stay with me, my bloodied flower, til light loses all meaning.

[hollyand-writes]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Title: A Chance Engagement Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Chapters: 22/? Pairings: Eventual Carver/Merrill, background F!Mahariel/Tamlen, other pairings not revealed yet because of spoilers   Other characters: Marian Hawke, Bethany Hawke, Leandra Hawke, Isabela, Tamlen, Fenarel, Female Mahariel, Keeper Marethari, Sabrae Clan, Arishok   Other tags: Alternative Universe - Regency, Pride & Prejudice References, Bethany and Carver Hawke Live, Pride & Prejudice AU, Fluff and Humour  

Summary:

“It is a truth universally acknowledged, Lady Leandra Amell tried to impress upon her three children, that a single man in possession of a large fortune must be in want of a wife. However she hoped this wisdom would be received by her offspring, Lady Amell was dismayed to find that it had not had the effect she intended.”

Regency AU. When Miss Merrill attends the Kirkwall public assembly ball, the last man she expects to engage in a dance is Carver Hawke – a single man who has just come into possession of a large fortune. This chance meeting, however, sets them both on a path they never expected.

READ FROM THE BEGINNING ON ARCHIVE OF OUR OWN  

The next morning passed in much the same way as the previous; and once breakfast was over, the ladies sat in the drawing room for a while to occupy themselves. Merrill busied herself in making her own bonnet for the winter. Elves, she explained to a curious Miss Hawke, did not often wear head-dresses because the caps and bonnets of current human fashion did not cater for pointed elf ears; so elves would usually make their own when the season turned in order to protect their ears from the colder weather.  

‘How fascinating,’ Lady Leandra said, in a tone so polite Merrill couldn’t tell whether she was merely being courteous or whether she was truly interested, ‘and how very resourceful. I imagine that the stiffer, more rigid bonnets made of straw that accommodate human’s ears would be difficult for your people to wear.’

‘Yes,’ Merrill agreed. ‘Sometimes we do find a bonnet – even a straw one – that we can purchase and trim to suit our heads; but the bonnets we make ourselves tend to be softer. We make them of silks, or velvet, or cotton; although we trim them with ribbons or lace the same way, and make them up as pretty as we can.’

‘Speaking of hats,’ Miss Hawke said, ‘and please excuse my interruption, Merrill – Mother, were you not going to call on the milliners today, when you visit the Reinhardts?’

‘Yes, you are right,’ Lady Leandra recalled. ‘As a matter of fact, I was about to dress myself to go out. Is there anything you or Bethany need?’

Mother and daughter left the room in conversation, and a short time after, Sir Carver entered it. Bethany looked surprised to see her brother, for she thought that Mr Fenris was due to call soon, and said so.

‘He is not calling for another half-hour,’ her twin replied, ‘so I thought I would come and sit with you awhile. I thought Sister and Mother were here?’ 

Read more on AO3... 

[hollyand-writes]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

In this chapter (2,244 words), Merrill joins the Hawkes for breakfast, and Carver receives some news that sours his mood.  

Title: A Chance Engagement Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Chapters: 17/? Pairings: Eventual Carver/Merrill, background F!Mahariel/Tamlen   Other characters: Marian Hawke, Bethany Hawke, Leandra Hawke, Isabela, Tamlen, Fenarel, Female Mahariel, Keeper Marethari, Arishok   Other tags: Alternative Universe - Regency, Pride & Prejudice References, Bethany and Carver Hawke Live, Pride & Prejudice AU, Fluff and Humour  

Summary:

“It is a truth universally acknowledged, Lady Leandra Amell tried to impress upon her three children, that a single man in possession of a large fortune must be in want of a wife. However she hoped this wisdom would be received by her offspring, Lady Amell was dismayed to find that it had not had the effect she intended.”

Regency AU. When Miss Merrill attends the Kirkwall public assembly ball, the last man she expects to engage in a dance is Carver Hawke – a single man who has just come into possession of a large fortune. This chance meeting, however, sets them both on a path they never expected.

READ FROM THE BEGINNING ON ARCHIVE OF OUR OWN  

Anders departed early the next morning, after the Hawkes offered to host him for the night in a guest room neighbouring Mahariel’s; but as the patient showed no deterioration in her condition overnight, both she and the good doctor decided he would no longer be needed for the duration of her recovery.

For the Hawkes, it was a relief to hear the invalid’s condition was not more serious – but privately Carver felt conflicted about the elven ladies’ stay, even if he would not dream of admitting it for fear of raising his sisters’ disapproval. He was indeed very sorry that Mahariel had been injured, and of course there was no question of allowing Merrill to go home without a chaperone, or of hearing of her removal if the patient requested her there – but the fact that Merrill would be staying under his roof for the next few days would sorely test him.

For Merrill, last night, had been so beautiful as to be ethereal; she even sounded adorable when she so sweetly ridiculed the Arishok, whether by accident or design – and Carver was surprised at how engaged by her he seemed to be every time they met.

But, especially now Merrill was a firm friend of his sisters – Marian more so than Bethany, perhaps – this fascination he had, if he allowed it to develop, could be inconvenient at best, contemptible at worst; and it could make matters awkward between his sisters and their new friend. Plus, society was unlikely to approve of such an interest, between human and elf – and Lady Leandra had worked so hard (and for so long) at re-acceptance into the Hightown set, that the last thing Carver wanted to do was cause his mother to be sneered at and shunned from all her aristocratic friends again – regardless of what he privately thought of such friends – and it was advisable for a man in his situation to marry for connections, and therefore marry well. 

Read more on AO3...

[hollyand-writes]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Regency AU. In this chapter, Sir Carver bumps into Merrill while she’s walking in her family’s gardens, and invites her to a dinner party at the Hawkes -- while Merrill gets an eyeful from his scandalously tight breeches. Of course. 

Title: A Chance Engagement  Rating: Teen and Up Audiences  Chapters: 11/?  Pairings: Eventual Carver/Merrill, background F!Mahariel/Tamlen   Other characters: Marian Hawke, Bethany Hawke, Leandra Hawke, Isabela, Tamlen, Fenarel, Female Mahariel, Keeper Marethari  Other tags: Alternative Universe - Regency, Pride and Prejudice References, Bethany and Carver Hawke Live, Fluff and Humour  

Summary: 

“It is a truth universally acknowledged, Lady Leandra Amell tried to impress upon her three children, that a single man in possession of a large fortune must be in want of a wife. However she hoped this wisdom would be received by her offspring, Lady Amell was dismayed to find that it had not had the effect she intended.” 

Regency AU. When Miss Merrill attends the Kirkwall public assembly ball, the last man she expects to engage in a dance is Carver Hawke – a single man who has just come into possession of a large fortune. This chance meeting, however, sets them both on a path they never expected. 

READ FROM THE BEGINNING ON ARCHIVE OF OUR OWN  

The next day, Merrill was wandering barefoot around the gardens on either side of the driveway leading up to the Sundermount Estate; she was free to do this at home, away from any human gaze or judgement, and she liked the feeling of the grass beneath her feet. 

The late autumn air was crisp on her face, and the morning dew made the cold earth a little soft and wet; but her footsteps made a satisfying rustle among the red and brown leaves that had fallen in her path, and Merrill was happy to note there was even a smattering of lawn daisies on the green. It seemed almost symbolic, Merrill thought to herself, that the daisies had appeared out of season – on the day she turned one-and-twenty at last – free for her to pick them and make daisy chains while she walked.

Last night’s ball had been far more pleasant than her first ever ball; she’d been delighted to see her friends, and even had an agreeable dance with Pol. Unlike any of the Sabraes, Pol was city-born, worldly; Merrill herself had been largely raised in the countryside. Both, however, had spent at least some of their younger years in Ferelden, far from Kirkwall; and Merrill had been pleased for an opportunity for both of them to reminisce about the rolling green hills and the smell of the mud on a rainy day, whenever they’d managed to get out of their cruel and crowded alienages.

The crunch of a footstep on the driveway’s gravel startled her; and Merrill turned round – only to see Sir Carver stop in his tracks. 

Read more on AO3...

[hollyand-writes]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

In which the Gallows reels from recent events, Emile de Launcet introduces Carver to his favourite book, and Hawke and Anders leave the Estate as Carver visits Merrill (also, SMUT). 

This fic has been going for over three years now. I thought I should at least attempt to finish it... even if we’ve got like 30--40 chapters to go...

Title: The Templar And The Blood Mage Fandom: Dragon Age 2 Rating: Explicit  Pairings: Carver/Merrill, M!Hawke/Anders  Word Count: 5,721 words (total: 42,142 words)

Summary:  Carver has finally managed (with Isabela's help) to get together with Merrill, after pining for the Dalish elf for years. Being a Templar, however, means he is forced to keep his relationship a secret - a fact that is not helped by the publication of a certain friend-fiction that becomes the Kirkwall version of "Fifty Shades of Grey". 

READ FROM THE BEGINNING ON ARCHIVE OF OUR OWN 

The tunnel was dark and musty, but a faint wisp lit the blond man’s path, the pale blue light bouncing off the walls as he walked. He tread cautiously, carefully, as if he expected to run into anyone at any moment. It was a route he’d often walked, a tunnel he’d often used for this specific purpose, yet he was no less careful than he was the many other times he’d done this before. His staff was secured to his back, although anyone who knew him knew that he would be ready to brandish and use it at a moment’s notice.

There was only one difference: this time, he was not alone. 

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