#suledine

[aposthates]

you seem to know what you're doing. // GOOD BC FEN DOESNT

PERHAPS IT SHOULD NOT PLEASE HIM SO MUCH AS IT DOES to have this over fenris . . . not their intimacy in itself, BUT THE EXPERIENCE. HARDLY EVEN STARTED, YET EACH AND EVERY BRUSH OF WIDE PALMS ACROSS HIS NARROW CHEST HAS BEEN MET WITH GREAT TREMBLES . . . poorly suppressed. and the hammering of the elven heart was thunderous in itself. IT'S QUITE ROMANTIC, ACTUALLY. for if you observed the two of them without prior knowledge, assumption might dictate that fenris might be the one more well-versed in the art of intimacy. however in reality, anders was the guiding force here. AN UNSURE DESCENT INTO SUCH AN ARRANGEMENT ENTIRELY COMPENSATED FOR BY A SOFT AND TRUSTING HAND. magic entirely absent from healing fingertips, and instilling trust to try and bridge the gap where such was still brewing.

HOWEVER THIS CERTAINLY WASN'T HOW HE IMAGINED IT. he expected something venomous, and boisterous and sudden. CLASHING TEETH LIKE THEIR DUELING WORDS, AND CUTTING LIPS TO FLOOD IRON 'CROSS BOTH OF THEIR TONGUES. however, such revelations . . . the openness displayed? IT SOFTENED ANDERS IMMENSELY. AS DID THE BOARDERS, TRIALS AND TRIBULATIONS THEY HAD TO CROSS TO GET HERE. the mental strength fenris has begun to work through. IT SEEMED... UNBECOMING TO CROSS THE THRESHOLD OF THEIR ULTIMATE TRUST WITH ANY MEASURE OF CRUELTY.

"we've barely even done anything yet." HIS NOSE PUSHES FENRIS', ANGLING HIS FACE TO OFFER A KISS, AND THEN ANOTHER. DEVILISHLY FLEETING. teasing him, because he frankly finds himself unable to resist. SUCH A FACT GLITTERING SOFTLY IN HIS AMBER EYES. mouth returning to cocked smirk, as he trails flattened hands lower. MEMORIZING THE SLOPES AND RIDGES OF HIS RIBCAGE, until finally, he grips fenris' hips. thumbs swiping bones as he presses him firmly against the wall he had already been leaning against. ONLY TO GROUND HIM, with no such violence or intent to control threaded within. HE COULDN'T. NOT TO HIM. NOT NOW.

"but you're doing great, you know." he starts. "i know it can be . . . overwhelming." foreheads press as he raises one palm to cup his cheek, using it to angle his face upward. "this isn't how i imagined it. somehow, i thought that it would be.. i don't know. angrier. more hateful. but i couldn't do that to you.. not knowing." HE DOESN'T CUT HIMSELF OFF, YET LETS IT GO UNSPOKEN. knowing it's his first time. but he doesn't want to say too much, to scare him off. if he hadn't done so already. 'thank you, for trusting me' riding the tip of his tongue as it passes through the elf's lips.

@suledine. melt into me.

[kirkw4ll-a]

❰❰ CUDDLE ❱❱ our muses cuddle @suledine

it was NEW. and in its newness came a delight and a terror -- hawke held him closely but so lightly, like a bird in her hand. she would free him if he asked, he need only ask. maker, she hoped that day would never come.

the pastels of a sunrise were spreading into the sky outside of her window -- she could tell by the way the room lightened just a bit. it was strange to spend time with him like this. so close and intimate knowing that each day would just bring new horrors and hardships. but for now, they had the morning. and hawke would do her very best to not allow her anxieties get in the way.

"do you think the others would mind if we feigned illness?" she murmured against his chest, her arms wrapped around fenris' middle. face could barely be seen, eyes closing tightly and refusing to open as though somehow this would HELP. "surely, kirkwall won't fall apart if we don't fight to the near death for just a day? am i being too hopeful?" andraste's tits, how she wished for a holiday. just a day off. her bones ached in ways that she wasn't sure that they SHOULD -- she was nursing an old rib injury that hasn't healed completely right and she swore her jaw was MISALIGNED due to a clever jab from one of those dog lords. a sigh. squeezed him just a bit tighter.

"could i persuade you at ALL?"

[kirkw4ll-a]

beep beep amazing quality writing, bringing me to tears with our angsty bbys. i am so glad to be getting to know you & seeing you on my dash bc your writing is amazing. i am 99% sure you are actually hawke secretly.

beep beep how’s my portrayal ?

fenris & hawke my angsty emo babies i wish to smash you together like barbie dolls :'))))))) it will just make the nice and sweet times that much more nice and sweet. also dont blow my cover i AM writing to u from the fade

[kirkw4ll-a]

"i want the k" @suledine -> 18. a kiss while laughing

" -- and so carver climbs up this elm tree, taller than our HOUSE mind you in an attempt to get this snarling, yowling, scratching cat. i'm not sure if he fancied the girl down the street or just wanted to prove himself a HERO, but the cat jumped out of the tree the MOMENT carver reached it. and he didn't seem to realize how high he'd climbed because suddenly, i hear a snarling, yowling brother who can't find his way down!" she was laughing -- really, TRULY laughing. not just the kind of chuckle or snicker she makes when she thinks she's being particularly clever.

the fire was crackling in a signal that it yearned for more wood, the sky outside so dark and star filled that she almost had the urge to drag him outside to stare up at it. but here was nice. in her bed (fully clothed, but she was SURE that she would have dream upon dream of something less innocent later), a bottle and a half of wine on her night stand. he was warm. he was strong and solid and against her and for the first time in such a long time, hawke felt like somebody else could keep her safe for once.

lips were lightly wine stained and still a bit swollen from their... escapade outside of the manor (she was POSITIVE that she would hear about this later from her mother or gamlen or somebody who might have been snooping), grinning up at him as she trailed off. and in that moment, she realized that this might be the first time that she told a story about lothering where her heart wasn't threatening to collapse in her chest. maybe it was time. maybe it was fenris' company and eager gaze that had her distracted and feeling lighter than air.

"he's never forgiven me from helping him down -- sometimes i wish i left him up there, honestly. but bethany gave me this LOOK... oh, you would have loved her. she could just as easily charm a man with her manners as she could with this withering gaze that she inherited from our mother." still chuckling at the memory. she didn't feel SAD imagining her sister's face. she simply felt warm.

"oh, one thousand apologies -- i think i got us side tracked. unfortunately, i can't remember at all what we were talking about." they were so close now. when did they get CLOSER? noses brushing, her bright blue eyes looking up at him with a question and a nervousness that she hadn't experienced since she was a younger woman. their lips met a bit clumsily -- maybe the wine, maybe her NERVES, but she laughed all the same against his mouth. because when did anything between these two happen SMOOTHLY? one hand, tentative and CAREFUL, reached up so that fingers could move through his soft (she KNEW it would be soft! maker, she was pathetic.) strands of hair and move to gently cradle the side of his face.

it was fucking electrifying.

"you -- are very distracting," came her mumble against his lips, her laugh light and airy between kisses. finally pulled back and away. she only had so much self control and this night was PERFECT. the last thing she wasnted to do was ruin everything like she usually did. "now, PLEASE tell me a story of your own to distract me from just how kissable you are."

[kirkw4ll-a]

[ nightmare ] @suledine

"don't speak to me of grief!"

heartbeat like twenty thousand horses galloping in her ears. blood. all of the blood. she looks down at her hands, tries to wipe them on her pants. she hears her mother. carver is screaming.

"this was your fault!"

she wants to vomit, she wants to shake the body of her sister so viciously that she has no choice but to wake up. the darkspawn are coming. she can smell them. blood, acid, something sharp and earthy. metallic. sick. she's going to be sick. but she CAN'T. her mother rounds on her again.

"how could you LET HER charge off like that?"

"bethany --" a single word fell from her lips and for a moment, her voice was a stranger to her (funny considering how she usually never shut up!). heart rabbiting, a hand rose to cover the spot where it beat under her chest. it was dim -- maker, how long had she been asleep? she must have fallen asleep at his mansion. nothing NEW, nothing strange... maybe it was the wine that did her in.

head was aching, but not because of the alcohol (although that's a very good excuse, should she need one). once the reality of her nightmare or memory or whatever it was sank in, eyes lifted up to the face of the person who had the kind heart to shake her awake. "ah..." how could she talk her way out of this one? how could she shoo away this embarrassment? she wanted to cry, the image of her darling, dearest sister burned in her mind as though it happened hours ago rather than years.

"maker save me -- i'm afraid you caught me at my worst." a shaky smile. she was still trying to catch her BREATH. "was i truly so impolite as to fall asleep? well, the couch IS comfortable... if not a bit blood stained. fenris, surely we know each other enough by now for you to accept my help to CLEAN?"

[aposthates]

❛  don’t  fucking  touch  me .  ❜ / hurt fen being forever stubborn

HIS LIPS WRINKLE AS HE RECOILS AWAY FROM the blighted elf. brows similarly rendered in a scrunch, whilst one arm curls close to his chest. anger flaring like a cornered animal, as is almost customary within him. RATHER LIKE A FRIGHTENED FELINE, IN THE BEARING OF HIS TEETH. "what? afraid it might rub off on you?" THE MAGIC, HE MEANS.

the first of two questions is sharper than his tongue is used to. NOT IN WORDS, BUT IN TONE. the angriest of his tirades typically escaping smoothly, albeit with a clear measure of passion. THAT WHICH IS LOST ON THE BROODING, LYRIUM INFESTED . . . "well it can't, you know. it's already in your blood."

low blow, but nothing the other isn't prone to directing right back. HARD TO FEEL BAD ABOUT IT, AT TIMES LIKE THESE. the lyrium, his sister. THE MERE THOUGHTS INFEST THE MAGE WITH A RAGE THAT THREATENS TO LET SLIP A MODICUM OF CONTROL. yet he grits teeth in a broad gesture along the slight frame. CLEAR DISGUST IN HIS EYES, which are zapped briefly with frosty electricity , as he unfurls himself at last.

HIS LEGS TAKE ON A MORE DEFENSIVE STANCE, as he half expects a violent reaction. AND PERHAPS PART OF HIM WOULD RATHER HE JUST HIT HIM, ALREADY. fingers extended, brought forth from his side. "but go on. deny it, just like you always do. in fact, glow blue! shove your fist through my chest and tell me you aren't made of magic!"

@suledine. deadly nightshade.

[aposthates]

“ i don't think we're out here alone. ”

THERE'S AN IMMEDIATE SMILE UPON HIS FACE. SHIT EATING, AND LIDDED. he can't help it . . . whenever the elf opens his mouth, his brain is automatically filing through possible inflammatory things to say in response. ALWAYS INTERESTED IN RILING HIM UP A BIT. "why? . . . don't tell me you're worried." ambers slide inside their sockets, already feeling the scowl coming on. IT'S DELIGHTFUL.

THE DILAPIDATED MANSION STANDS STILL WHILE THEY LINGER OUTSIDE OF THE THRESHOLD, although he's not quite taking the potential danger fenris raises so seriously. JUST THE TWO OF THEM, AFTER ALL. "well either way, not to fear. the big scary mage will scare away the slave hunters for you." HIS LIPS TWIST A BIT TO KEEP FROM LAUGHING. although the truth was, he would do it. UNLIKE SOMEONE HE KNOWS, he's able to empathize with his plight. WITH WHAT HE WAS MADE TO EXPERIENCE. no matter what the aftermath of such pain looks like. NO MATTER HOW MUCH HE YEARNS FOR THE ELF'S RESPECT, and curses himself internally when it is denied.

@suledine. southern gothic.