#winterfollows

𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐀𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐌𝐞: 𝐀 𝐌𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐌𝐞𝐦𝐞

@winterfollows

@winterfollows

The smoke comes like heated cloves and wispy incense from the mouth of Roland's pipe, hand-carved and burning embers with e'ery inhale in this late-night tavern 'pon a stormy evening.

Art his eyelids drawn low, his mouth borne soft and blooming, and he leans with crossed legs o'er the sanctified table of their own nook, enchanted without pay with a flittering of eager fingers and with a wave for the fog of the Brain. His blood fizzles, his skin brimming with elegant vibrations, and his foot, naked and with his toes loose, dost touch and circle intricate artifacts 'pon Haleir's clothed, parallel leg.

"Whence hast thou last kissed me?" exhumes he openly, murmuring in low, sensuous sounds 'neath the idle chatter of this nearly empty, low-rung bar. Is naught Roland the droopy, comfortable Coil for seduction, for the bawdy, unashamed Flirt. "Whence hast thou last tasted my tongue, goodly Haleir? Or of my skin?" inquires he boldly, as he partakes of another long, slow drag.

Twin streams of blue smoke plume from his own nostrils, and his eyebrow quirks; a grin threatens to peak through one, canine tooth.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤhands ease through retying the laces on his britches, a deft tuck of his shirt. he's late for the meeting, she'll be mad, he knows, but a roll of his shoulders cracks the bones beneath his skin. haleir stays behind him, STILL COMFORTABLE ON THE FURS, and a mild envy flows through him, wishing he could join again. part of him wonders how they continue to do this, how haleir is so . . . at ease when it comes to their trysts. he has to know, on some level, that it won't last, that it is purely for fun, for relief. it's easier between them than finding themselves in a brothel.

solas turns, fixing the cuffs of his sleeves, staring at his lieutenant. haleir is barely covered, bare chested as solas rakes his eyes across the expanse of skin his hands were just on. there are scratches left behind, beginning to welt, and he knows the ones that cover his own back will look the same as well. a smirk on lips, " be honest with yourself, hal, YOU LOVE WHEN I DO ANYTHING. " wrist up to his face, teeth biting on the fabric as he adjusts the cufflink of his left wrist before lowering it, making his way toward the other elf. solas leans in, using the same hand to gently take haleir's chin and bring their eyes to meet. his right snakes across to the side table, grabbing the gold hand chain from when they'd undressed earlier. " perhaps i'll even do it again tonight. "

he stands, taking the chain and adorning it on his empty right hand, before gliding across the room to grab his uniform jacket. " remember, I GAVE YOU THE NIGHT OFF. if i so much as hear your name ghost across the staff's gossip, you will have more to worry about then a few current sore muscles. "

THIS IS SO WHOLESOME

winterfollows replied to your post “�� "So, hypothetically, if I were bringing over a surprise dinner for...”

But you know he's going to ask Sea to help carry it next, if it's THAT much~

( lost meme + 5 months )

      You aren’t poison. You’re the fires I fought towards after the avalanche, and I, 

       I’m in a throne and you’re in chains, bravery isn’t 

       I can’t do this. I don’t care what happens, we could run. We have to try I can’t keep postponing sentencing indefinitely, I can’t stand to see you like this, I can’t let you suffer. 

     Tell me how to fix this how do I keep you safe, how do I keep us

     Ma vhenan, you always – Ink gathers too deeply into the page, his metal nibbed quill all but burrowing a hole into the paper, his left hand trembling under the weight of his words. He can’t do this, he can’t do this, he can’t do this. Can’tcan’tcan’t– 

       And just like that, his hand tightens to a fist, quill and inkwell disappeared in the blink of an eye. “No, no….” Maybe he’s tired. Maybe they fell. But he searches everything, and they’re nowhere to be found. Worse, it seems one of the scraps of parchment he was writing on seems to be missing too. 

     And just like that, if the guard were doing their duty, there would be one prisoner able to take advantage of garden time. And just like that, as they crowded a certain prisoner into a single corner of the garden to minimize potential damages. And just like that, the prisoner would not be alone. The garden was little more than a leap from the Inquisitor’s room, possible only for spirits who could not be truly harmed, and Cole was holding out a scrap of paper with two words on it that he could not read. If Haleir noticed that he had confiscated the other missing items from the Inquisitor, so be it. 

                    “The ink bleeds like blood pouring from a wound. Metal cuts it deeper,                    leaves it open to fester. It’s like an arrowhead, I had to push it to stop                    pain from spreading and find which words that could be for stitching.”

     Sorn’s eyes were wide with fear when he was approached. He had been ambushed on the road, dragged from his horse, stabbed in the stomach and robbed. Left for dead, he expected the next person he saw to finish him off. But as he attempted to scramble away, a firm hand and the other’s words stopped him.