#oc: elodie celeste louise dubois

[goldanna-blog]

“I want to kiss all of the freckles on your cute face.” For Bram and Elodie?

soft sentences!↳  bram kenric / elodie dubois.

notes: some soft n fluffy shit for my two precious children before the world got mean!! this is set during their time as students at the university of orlais!! also god help me i used to speak better french than this, i did my best???rating: teen. there’s just some kissin’words: 1,440.

When she says that none would believe him, he believes her. When she says he could point and insist, but no one would find an ounce of depth in her eyes, Bram knows it’s true. 

Not because he wants it to be so. No. He wants her to have that familiar brightness, that voracious appetite for books on archeology and astronomy. He wants her to be as if she never had a need to hide herself away, like a treasure under floorboards.

But in Elodie is a fountain that can run dry with the slightest shift in her desires. If he were to tell, to spoil this beautiful secret (“she has a heartbeat, I could feel it against my lips when I kissed her neck”) she would change. In the sickening, opposite sense, she would become unknown to him until all was safe. 

It doesn’t really matter, not to Bram who delights in new information. One day he might want to be published, a sharer of all kinds of delicious secrets. But right now he’s only a student, sitting in the dark library long after everyone else has departed for bed. 

In the moonlight crossed with an orange glow burning in a lamp, he watches Elodie become something else.

With the last, leaving soul outside of their quiet duo gone, her posture changes. She sits with a pin between her shoulder-blades, every movement calculated and delicate. But the pin’s gone with only him to watch it pulled out, her shoulders slump and she leans over the book-laden table. 

“Goodness, goodness,” she sighs. It isn’t a precious sound, a gentle exhaling of breath. No, it’s an exclamation of true relief. It washes over Bram like a cold tide, it makes him shiver to hear her as she is meant to be heard. “I thought they might never leave.” 

“Well, if they didn’t we would’ve gone up in a bit ourselves,” he says, “are you very tired, Dee?” 

“No,” she replies, lifting her head and brushing a loose curl of butter-blonde hair behind her ear. “I am only just now becoming interested.” 

“You wound me,” Bram replies, dipping his quill into the pot of ink near his dominant hand and scribbling down another note. Elodie tuts and his eyes are called back to her’s. “Here I thought you were so interested in helping me study.” 

“Your mistake,” she says with a surprisingly callous smile for one so pretty. Her jokes feel more like jabs, like true pushes of her wit against his. “I take any chance I can to get a beautiful man alone.” 

Bram is writing again, half-pretending not to listen as he jots down something about the recent excavations in Emprise du Lion. Still, the tips of his ears turn pink. As do the highs of his cheekbones, such physical reactions do not pass unnoticed. 

“Ah, he blushes!” she exclaims, leaning more bodily across the table, now. Her hair falls forward, a curtain of curls straining against the pins holding it back. “You’re beautiful, dear heart, so beautiful.” 

“Enough, Dee,” Bram mumbles. His second, upward glance is his mistake. Elodie’s eyes are fiery, all light and heat. She stares at him with such punishing intensity, the warmth could touch the skin of his cheeks. “Enough.” 

“And you’re twice as intelligent as you are beautiful, Bram,” she insists, “enough books. Enough facts, you’ve come to know everything. Perhaps twice over, in the case of Emprise du Lion.” 

“One can never be too careful,” he sputters, daring to look again into the heat of the flame. He’s never seen her look at anything living with so much, fierce love. To be adored by her is to risk nothing, to gain everything. The only casualty might be self-contained, she’s loved hot enough to melt her skin to ash. 

“Come,” she says, she shifts in her chair and makes room for him. She extends one, lithe hand and holds it out for him to take. 

It’s a last resort, already used as a communication tool. She’s wanting, though for what, Bram is never quite sure. But he rises from the table, he takes a turn about it and holds that pretty hand. 

When she seizes him by the wrist, Bram’s surprised enough to give easily. His lips meet hers, the kiss is needier than he expects. Her other hand moves to the back of his head, Elodies fingers push into his copper-coloured hair. 

“There are better places,” he says, but the smirk makes it obvious it’s but a joke. He’d find a way to kiss her on the surface of the moon, if she demanded it with the same need she always does.

Elodie has a way of making him feel like he alone could do this for her. There is no one in the wide, green world other than Bram who could be allowed to love her. Part of him dismisses it as foolishness, another knows it’s true. 

“Show me them,” she says as if she’s never been the one to pull him off to a secluded settee in the library corner. Elodie stands and follows after him. 

The implied plan is thrown for a bit of a loop when her body weight is nudged against his. Slight but strong, she urges him towards a random bookshelf. Bram lets himself be blown off-course, lets his back hit the bookcase with a low thud. 

Her warm body fits against his nicely, he’s pushed against the shelf and feels leather spines digging against his made of bone. He’s kissed again, before he can complain in jest. It makes his head swim, how good at this she is. 

“I thought we were going to sit down,” he says, looking at her with a fondly pointed gaze. Elodie rolls her eyes. 

“I thought of something better,” she replies. 

Her hands move up his body, cupping his cheeks and turning his head towards the light so she can see it better. For all her intensity, she holds him gently. Every part of Elodie is soft in the figurative sense around him, as readily as it is literally for everyone else. 

“Pourquoi avez-tu des taches de rousseur?” she asks. Bram blinks, now expected to think through the romantic haze now settled on him. 

“Why do I have—” he starts, though he can’t find the meaning of that last phrase for the life of him. “What?” 

“Taches de rousseur,” she repeats, but slower. It still rings no bells. “I’m unfamiliar with its translation.” 

She seems to get an idea. Her lips move to his still-warm cheek, kissing here and there like she’s trying to cover every spot. 

Spot. 

“Why do I have freckles?” Bram suddenly asks, Elodie pulls back with a beaming smile. “Is that what you want to know?” 

“Yes, why?” she returns with another question. “I was told you were a lord’s son, these,” she pauses to brush a finger curiously over the spots on his cheek. “Are for commoners, no?” 

“No,” he replies, though he can taste the humour in her voice. She’s only teasing him. “They are for everyone, especially in Starkhaven.” 

“Why?” she asks. She’s pulled gently against his chest, hugged tight against his ribs in the hopes she might hear how quickly his heart is beating. 

“Questions, questions,” he sighs, “I thought you were going to kiss me until I turned silly. Though I suppose I also thought we’d sit down for that.” 

“I changed my mind,” she defends, though it has no bite. 

“Yes, you do that,” he gives in. Bram can’t resist squeezing her against him, only gently but just to feel that beautiful warmth a little closer. “Starkhaven sits in a valley, my dear. Outside the walls is a vast forest, one I would explore as a boy. I’d stay out all day.” 

“And you’d get plenty of sun,” she continues the story for him like she knows it already. Her soft, little lips touch his cheeks again. 

“Yes,” he says. There’s a jovial tone in his voice that rears its head only when in her arms. “Too much sun, according to you.” 

“Nonsense,” Elodie states. She frees a hand to seize his chin again, turning it towards the moonlight for a thorough inspection. “I’ve changed my mind in this respect, as well. I like them.”

“Is that so?” Bram nudges her in the right direction, a laugh greets his ears and he feels whole. 

“Oh, yes,” she sighs, “I want to kiss every one of these freckles, dear heart. Have you any complaints?” 

No, he decides very quickly. He does not. 

[goldanna-blog]

my favourite thing is varric getting really interested and scared when elodie shows him her diary consisting of two million words, all written in code. she tries to explain that she knows no one here would want to steal her secrets, but it’s just habit.

he never does crack that code but she reads it over sometimes, giggles and gives him leave to use whatever good lines she quotes from it.

[goldanna-blog]

👮‍♂️🔥💔👀💘 for Elodie!

sex and romance headcanons!↳  inquisitor elodie dubois.

👮 has my muse ever had sex in public?

define public?? her and bram had sex in a library while they were at school, but it was a thoroughly empty library. 

dee is very sensitive to things like vulnerability and exposure, additionally so fucking in rooms that are not?? necessarily private, capable of being breached puts her massively and terrifyingly on-edge. she’d rather die than have someone catch her in the act and risk their judgement. 

🔥 would my muse ever be up for a threesome?

answered here!!

💔 what was my muse’s first heartbreak?

it wasn’t necessarily a traditional heartbreak, but the first boy elodie really loved was bram kenric and she was rather viciously pushed at a more affluent suitor. she never really got to say goodbye or explain what happened (though bram was smart enough to figure it out on his own). 

he showed up to the wedding, but he hadn’t been invited. he didn’t have the chance to see her before she was married off and the way things ended (very abruptly) haunts both of them to this day.

👀 is my muse the type to sleep around?

she did in response to a sudden lack of emotional and sexual freedom following her first year of marriage. that lost year was the most fun of her life, but she doesn’t remember most of it. 

it was, from what she does remember, consensual as hell and getting to try new things with new personalities was something she greatly enjoyed. 

however, the whole situation was not especially safe. her first and only child (marie-claire) was conceived at some point during this year and the fact that elodie can’t remember what man it was with is what pushes her to end this kind of lifestyle.

she wouldn’t go back to sleeping around now, not when she understands responsibility so much better. and besides the fact that she’s not looking for love, that lack of commitment isn’t something that appeals to her any more.

💘 what are the ways my muse says ‘i love you’ without actually saying it?

unless you’re her daughter, she doesn’t say she loves you full-stop so actions are really the only way to interpret how she really feels. 

offering her help is a major sign. she’ll throw herself into her lover’s problems as if they were her own to try and solve them. she also recommends books she thinks they would like and, in addition, will actually read any literature they recommend.

she’s not a touchy or lovey-dovey person at all, but holding hands or giving hugs in private is also a sign of monumental affection. occasionally she’ll give half-compliments that can potentially substitute for her lack of loving words.

gifts are more common. she gives everything to everybody bc buying love is all she really understands. they’re usually thoughtful and very expensive. unless you’re varric. in his case, she lets him have the run of her diary should he ever want to write a tell-all exposé. elodie trusts he’d never write anything that would put her in harm’s way.

[goldanna-blog]

🔥🎀 for Elodie?

sex and romance headcanons!↳  inquisitor elodie dubois.

🔥 would my muse ever be up for a threesome?

depends on what point in her life and with who. when she had her (ahem) gap year after her marriage she would’ve been down to try anything once. two’s company but three’s more fun, you know? 

now that she’s older, she’s a little less inclined to go wild with the romance. the reaction to her outgoing, sexual exploration (the fact that she was married at the time was a factor, though) was so terrible that she’s got a bit of an averse reaction to the thought of really letting loose again. 

one partner is almost too many for her, in her opinion. 

🎀 who would my muse sleep with if nobody ever had to know?

ideally, nobody would know who she was sleeping with in any capacity at all. but?? dee is pretty deep in the closet, i gotta say, so she’d probably pick a woman. 

maybe josephine, she quite likes her despite appearances. the poor woman’s still figuring her sexuality out (and what’s not vs. what’s okay to explore) so she’d like to have a fun night with josie, safe in the knowledge that it would never be used against her as blackmail.