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

Sounds perfect Wahhhh, I don’t wanna

Fic | My Heart is Breathing

A very merry Adoribull exchange to @dichotomous-dragon ! You suggested (among others) hurt/comfort, or someone taking a blow for someone else, and I decided to smush the two together as best I could. :) 

1.9k! T-rated, I suppose, for brief mentions of Bloody Stuff. This is set after their individual character quests, but before the end of the game.

From @labarkour

*

My Heart is Breathing

*

The Bull shouldered his way into the tent. The rain pattered noisily against the canvas.

Dorian, back bent and given up to the healer, looked over his arm. He’d filth caked in his mustache, the hairs plastered.

“I hope you brought wine,” said Dorian. The Bull spread his hands. Dorian made a show of sighing.

“Close it,” said the healer. “And you. Stop moving.” The needle flashed. She tugged the thread. The stitch settled beneath Dorian’s shoulder.

The Bull stooped beneath the first support. The canvas flap dropped into place again. He lingered there in the entrance, on the mud cloth.

“What thanks,” Dorian said. “I risk my life, and you come empty-handed to watch this barbarian sew me up like a soldier playing at housewife.”

“All right,” said the healer. She sat back with the needle still in hand. “How about you finish up?”

“Fetch me a mirror and I’ll do it.”

“You know,” said the Bull, “I heard the Avaar pour piss on their wounds. Keeps ‘em from going bad.”

Dorian made a tremendous face. The healer laughed and leaned in again.

“Perhaps I spoke in haste.”

“Did that, did you,” said the healer.

“I should hate to use barbarian so freely no word remains for that.”

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Adoribull Adoribull Holiday Exchange blood canon submission

When I Say All The Things That I Want To

From @thekingofcarrotflower to @ofwolvesandshatteredshields for being a wonderful human being & pinch hitting. <3

Angst with a happy ending, blood, canon-typical violence below.

“I have sand in my boots, sand in my robes, sand in places I never dreamed of having sand,” Dorian complained as they traversed the expanse of shifting desert. Bull let out a small huff in answer - it had been nearly two weeks of this now, and everything from Dorian’s complaining to the Boss’s ceaseless exuberance to the unrelenting rays of sun were getting to be too much, even for him.

Normally, none of those things bothered Bull. Really, he could even say he had grown fond of Dorian’s whining, finding it endearing when Dorian’s nose crinkled in exaggerated disgust or annoyance. But, the desert heat was unrelenting, his skin was raw from the sun and wind, his knee ached from more than one misstep that caused him to go skidding down a dune. There were still more Venatori to clear out, another one of those eerie tombs in the distance left to explore, and rifts that made the night sky glow green on the horizon. He was tired of the desert, and sympathized with Dorian about how irritating the sand was becoming. Each evening meant taking off his boots and dumping out a pile of sand outside their tent. There was sand in their bedrolls, which did admittedly make it to places to Bull didn’t particularly want sand.

“Ah, shove it,” Sera said, poking Dorian in the shoulder with the sharp end of an arrow she’d been using to clean her fingernails, “We all got sand in places it don’t belong. ‘Sides, I bet you like it when you get an excuse to ask the big guy ‘ere to inspect all your crevasses.” Sera punctuated the statement by smacking the arrow against Dorian’s ass.

Dorian spluttered slightly, batting her away. It was hard to tell, his already dark skin having deepened even darker under the constant sun, but Bull could swear Dorian was blushing. He caught Dorian’s gaze for a moment and grinned. Whatever their … relationship was, it had recently went from the occasional tumble whenever Dorian decided to show up in his room, to a more consistent thing, Bull expecting him to make it to his room more nights than not. Even the Boss had asked them both about it, and she was currently giving them an amused smile over her shoulder.

“Yes, well,” Dorian smoothed out his mustache, a nervous habit Bull had quickly noticed early in their nebulous relationship, “Pleased to hear you’ve picked up on some of my impeccable vocabulary.”

Bull snorted loudly at the deflection, earning a glare from Dorian and a grin from Sera.

The moment of camaraderie quickly passed, the sound of distant chanting rising up from the dunes.  Adaar’s attention snapped back to the task at hand, her easy smile quickly turning into something determined. Dorian’s own expression quickly went grim as he recognized the too-familiar incantations of his vile countrymen. Before the Inquisition, Bull wouldn’t have thought anyone could rival his hatred for ‘Vints, but both Krem and Dorian’s disgust occasionally gave his dislike a run for its coin.

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Adoribull Adoribull Holiday Exchange angst with a happy ending blood gore violence