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See, that’s what the app is perfect for.

Sounds perfect Wahhhh, I don’t wanna

First of all I want to wish you  wonderful holidays and a happy new year.
I kind of unintentionally filled in the horses prompt and the third one because domestic just doesn’t sit with me if it’s not followed through with peril.
I truly hope you like this! From @yogurt-gun to @inked-drake

Prompts filled:
-something with lizards? or horses!
oh, and in view of the recent events that happened in my city, something -big happen (explosion/ politic attentat) near/where dorian is away on business (in tevinter? or on a diplomatic visit somewhere?) and bull not knowing if he’s alright? but happy ending?

Also, post game, I always imagined they’d have their own little hideaway.

—-

Dorian leaves in silence before the night even turns into a day, minutes away from dawn. It’s cold outside, something Bull has come to realize will be a constant in his life when it comes to Dorian, and while it’s not snowing yet, hoarfrost has settled on the ground, covering the grass in small patches.

The brown mare whose reins Dorian has in his hand snorts, hitting at the ground with its front hoof a couple of times before settling. Beside him, Dorian is bundled up in his riding furs and leathers, checking if he’d taken everything he needed for his ride back to Tevinter. It was finally the time for him too, they’d been putting it off far too long, extending Dorian’s stay. Perhaps they shouldn’t have, not if it was going to be this hard to watch him go every time, but it’s already too late and Bull doesn’t want to deal with it now.

Dorian pulls the last of his buckles taut and then he’s ready. If he were smart, he would have just climbed the damned horse and rode away, but nobody ever accused either of them of being clever when it had concerned their relationship. So no, Dorian doesn’t go to the horse, instead he walks over to Bull, letting go of the reigns, so close their toes might be touching.
Bull can feel heat radiating off of him and to his bare skin it’s a revelation and recognition. He manages not to do anything like beg him to stay though the words are somewhere in the back of his throat, jumbled and dark. The only thing he can offer in exchange is to put his hand on Dorian’s back and draw him into a hug.

By all means, it should not be as intimate as it is but with Dorian warm at his front, his hands at his sides holding just a little too hard, two warm points on his otherwise cold skin, it is.
It’s the absolute worst thing to have to let him go. Bull has to though, because it’s not his right to hold Dorian back.

Dorian sighs once Bull lets go, cradles Bull’s face in his hands and presses their foreheads together.
Bull is fairly certain Dorina says something then but the white noise in his head is too loud to recognize it and then Dorian’s pressing a soft, sweet kiss into his lips and Bull feels as if a wave is crashing over his head.

Once he opens his eyes Dorian’s already climbed onto his mare and it is once more entirely too quiet. Even the sound of the hoofs against ground when the mare turns is quiet.
.
Dorian smiles at him over his shoulder and once he starts riding, he doesn’t look back.

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Forever is a State of Mind

My gift is for @serenityfails, from @ohgodsalazarwhy

Prompts filled: Dorian taking care of Bull and: Dorian and Bull happy and retired and alive long after the events of Trespasser

Rating: G

———————–

The wind this time of year was cold, but not biting. Not quite yet. They still had a few more weeks before the chill sank into the ground and killed the last of the stubborn plants in their modest garden. Right now the wind was blowing his hair about as he spread out kernels of corn for their clucking chickens. Dorian watched idly as they scratched through the dirt and chased each other around with loud angry burrs and screeching. Horrible animals. Dorian could hardly believe they owned them.

If asked as a child what sort of home he’d live in as an old man he would have confidently replied that he would die in the Pavus estate, surrounded by wealth and comfort. Dorian smiled to himself as he pictured his younger self’s reaction to being told he’d live in a comfortable, but modest, cottage with a little garden, some goats, a stubborn donkey, and a flock of screeching chickens; and that he was content, no, happy.

The Imperium held many wonders and Dorian had been happy to indulge in his youth. He’d almost had to as a Magister. Those days were done, and the Pavus homes and lands were given to the burgeoning Lucerni. His seed had sprouted, and it was strong enough to go on without him. The Pavus name? Dorian could have passed it on to any one of his many apprentices, but he thought it best that it die with him. Dorian would be the final Pavus, and his vanity demanded he remain the greatest.

The tin bucket was finally bereft of corn, so Dorian set it aside. He squinted up at the sky, trying to gauge how much time had passed since The Bull had gone into town to grab some supplies for winter. He should return soon. Dorian grabbed his staff and a pair of big tin buckets, hoisting them by their handles over his forearm so he could walk slowly to their well. His body ached these days, and the cold did him no favors, but his back was still straight and his mind still sharp, so he couldn’t complain too much. He did, but that was beside the point.

The well had been a project that they’d worked on together many, many years ago. A summer spent with The Chargers and dirt always under his fingernails. Dorian smiled fondly at the memory, pulling up water and dumping it into his tin buckets. The work had been well worth it, Dorian was hardly a young man anymore, he couldn’t walk half a mile every time he needed water drawn. When both buckets were filled to the brim, Dorian waved his hand and both floated three feet off the ground, drifting gently just ahead of Dorian as he walked them to the house.

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