#lostpawns

khima can feel felassan’s breath between their legs by the time they make up their mind, nervous fingers giving his hair a light tug. “i don’t — that’s fine, uh, good, but can we just — can we skip that? tonight?” it was a very long day or two is all, and they want him closer. which is probably very silly, because what can be more intimate than putting someone’s genitals in your mouth, but —

Their clothes are already left in careless piles on the floor beside Felassan’s bed, blankets a mess. The familiar golden light of the Fade filtering in through the windows and spilling across the room like late afternoon sunlight despite the lateness of the hour.

He makes his way down their body, leaving a trail of kisses in his wake. Fingers threaded in his hair tighten, but it’s not until Felassan is settled between their legs, teeth dragging lightly across the soft skin of their thigh that they pull. Violet eyes — already dark and hungry — flick up at the sound of Khima’s voice and their almost hesitant question.

don’t worry. i’ve done this before. i’m kind of an expert-ish. // from khima :)

Rainer is fairly confident that not even Leliana could get a read on her current expression, which is something she prides herself in. She gets the feeling that maybe Khima wouldn't notice or care if she raised a judgmental or incredulous eyebrow at them, but their coterie of sexy and overprotective individuals lingering around the edges of the tavern might.

And, you know. What's the point of raising an incredulous brow at someone that won't even notice or care? It's a waste of a facial expression, and she is not a wasteful woman.

"Do you truly think so?"

Her brow quirked down at them, and the stack of leatherbound memories was sat neatly but forgotten on the table nearby. It was hardly the first time she'd caught Shemlan on their latest spree, running to and fro across the grounds. She would have to admit that she envied them that, as grand as the halls of Mythal were.

Though with the grandness also came a keeper. Enuna threw a cautious glance behind her; somewhere in the distance, she could hear the faintest grumble from who she knew to be Eolasen, no doubt again complaining about the wandering kiet'len—or what passed for a grumble from them—and knew being caught away from her task would only further sour their ever dour mood.

Something nearly impossible not to do. So Enuna only leaned further out the window to hear Shemlan better.

back to OC headshots, this is Cassandra (or Cass if you’re a friend (or Cassie only if you’re Nia)), the main protagonist of the seventh part!

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it feels to them like a small miracle that they're here again, sharing this bed, felassan stretched out warm against them. they think he's fallen asleep. quite a while ago, actually, but they aren't tired despite his best efforts. not tired enough to surrender to sleep. not yet. they realize too late that they've been tracing branches onto his skin instead of the idle path they'd intended. they flatten their palm, smoothing against his bare shoulder like they can wipe it away, make invisible the memory of vallaslin they've summoned. they hope it didn't wake him.

Felassan drifts out of sleep slowly, caught somewhere between the Fade and the waking world, limbs heavy and tired from their earlier activities. Distantly, he registers the feeling of Khima's fingers passing over his skin, and he nearly lets it lull him back into slumber before realizing the familiar path they've begun to take — the lines no longer mark his skin, but time enough has not yet passed for him to forget where they once were.

It doesn't bother him as much as he expects, some part of him even moved that Khima recalls the details of his vallaslin after so long. It stirs the echo of a memory, the feeling of their lips and hands mapping out the many branches, and he begins to settle back into his dreams once more when they stop abruptly, palm wiping the slate clean. They are so still after, like frozen water, that he wonders if they even breathe.

Properly awake now, Felassan shifts, violet eyes blinking open to look at them. Wordlessly, he takes their hand, and presses a kiss to the tips of their fingers in silent permission. He trusts they will understand, and if not he will make it known.

khima pulls felassan along by the hand, deftly weaving over and under and between the many obstacles of docktown, everything still slick with wet-season rain. it’s late — very late — very early, rather, but they’ve been up with the shadow dragons, plied with wine and spirits and coughing around a try of the long pipe tarquin had challenged them with. but they don’t want that company now. miles of scaffolding they climb, giggling encouragement down to felassan, eager to get to the top before the sun rises. when they do, khima squeezes their fingers together, raising their hands to press a kiss to his, eyes locked on the second new dawn they have ever seen with their own eyes. “beautiful,” they mumble into his skin. “happy new year!”

He cannot help the laughter that spills from his lips as he lets Khima lead him by the hand. His fingers are laced with theirs, and he follows their steps swiftly, hardly paying attention to the path they take for how unwilling he is to take his eyes off of them, even as they reach their destination.

The coming year's dawn is a symbol of hope for much of the world, and one he realizes he has not taken the time to appreciate in many years in a world that changed too quickly for one such as he. A world he has only recently regained faith in. And something bright and wonderful in the way that Khima gazes at the rising sun, enraptured, sets that faith even more firmly in his heart.

mirror. to have sex with my muse in front of a mirror.

@lostpawns / sexuality headcanons & questions. accepting.

felassan is very patient with khima’s lack of experience. what’s important to him is making sure that they feel comfortable in discovering what feels good, communicating that, and in the reverse communicating what they don’t like and what doesn’t feel good. everything is at their pace, just with some guidance on how to approach it.

it wouldn’t be entirely honest to say that he doesn’t have reservations about solas using blood magic on them, but he doesn’t let that hold him back. felassan is a little desperate for the connection he can have with khima, and doesn’t want to sever it because of solas. that being said, if he ever suspected that solas was using blood magic to manipulate khima with regards to their relationship, he would. for their sake, and his.