A terrible portrait of the Inquisitor is painted for her birthday. She thinks it's atrocious, Krem thinks it's a little hilarious. Drinking ensues to help cope.

Cassandra stumbles across a secret literature-exchange society in Skyhold. She disapproves, of course. Deeply. (That person who keeps prompting for crossovers with characters out of Varric's novels? Not her.)

In which Cole isn't a desire demon, but thinks it might help if he was.

“Man cannot discover new oceans unless he has the courage to lose sight of the shore.” -Andre Gide

Cullen is more than happy to make an appearance at the conclave at Seeker Pentaghast's request. How was he supposed to know that a simple favour would change his life forever? AKA The Cullen as Inquisitor AU I have been thinking about for some time.

Kaaras needs to be in control. As he's faced with more decisions, more events the workings of which he doesn't understand, he feels this control slipping. He needs to face the fact that he may not know everything, and may even not know exactly he is himself. Iron Bull and Dorian can help with that. Rated for future chapters.

Five Times The Iron Bull carried Dorian and one time Dorian carried Bull.

Or, five times Dorian Pavus and Iron Bull hastened slowly. Scenes from a love story. (Each chapter is a self-contained variation on a theme.)

The Iron Bull never asked Dorian to stay, but Dorian did.

Scorched earth policies don't leave much to work with, but Dorian and the Iron Bull just might manage.

Catching the Iron Bull in the act (that is, the carnal act) didn't start anything. It just brought Dorian's attention to it.

i have a leverage ot3 headcanon where parker, hardison, and eliot end up taking on apprentices as the years go by and eventually retire somewhere warm and sunny. eliot really never expected to live long enough to retire and it takes him a good long while to get used to it.

Cullen attempts to manage his lyrium withdrawals alone. Dorian won't stand for some Ferelden rube thinking he knows better than a brilliant mage from Tevinte

Five times the Iron Bull let Dorian Pavus walk away, and the one time he finally didn't.

Little Bull/Dorian tumblythings, all in one place!

The game was finally starting to move into Dorian's favour when the meaty thudding sounds of something heavy hitting flesh drifted across the courtyard. Commander Cullen looked up sharply, with something in the keen, alert tilt of his jaw reminding Dorian incongruously of the well-bred coursers that his mother had so loved, then Cullen glanced back at their game. "Qunari mating habits," Dorian suggested, just to watch Cullen flush and scowl. "Hardly. It's something about conquering fear. Inquisitor Adaar explained it to me. He was quite serious about it too. Very, ah, cultural.”

“You’ve done your best,” Cullen interrupted absently, and Dorian’s eyebrows arched in surprise. Cullen stared back evenly, hiding his own instinctive amusement. Mother Giselle glanced at them both, then shuffled away, back to the wounded, leaving them alone at the fire. Finally, however, to Cullen’s surprise, Dorian’s wry, faint smile curled into something warmer. “I’m never going to get used to that.” “To what?” “Being interrupted,” Dorian said dryly. “Here in the South.” “Because you’re a mage, and I’m an omega?” Cullen asked, a little testily.

Blackwall shrugged, all creaking armour and leather. “I may not like you or what you are very much at all, but you are brave and you have a good heart: that much is undeniable. It’s more than what most people have. So.” “… And here I thought we were going to launch into some terrible spiel about how we were all in this together,” Dorian said, after a startled pause. The day was turning out to be full of surprises. “That sort of thing only happens in Varric’s books.” “Oh, you read! I’m shocked.”

“Hey. Hey. I have an awesome idea,” Sera said suddenly, having rolled slowly onto her back until her head and part of her shoulders were hanging off the edge of the couch. “We could… we could totally set Dorian up. With one of our, our other friends. He’ll cry less, we’ll drink less, everything will be great.” “… Sounds doable,” Evelyn burped. “But who?” “Urm.” Sera frowned. “What about Thom?” “Naaah. He’s too much of a sad puppy. He’ll make it worse.” “Bull?” “Think he’s banging some waitresses right now. At least two. At the same time without either of them knowing. It’s like some serious spy shit.”

Dorian had scarcely read through the first chapter when a shuffle of footsteps stopped outside his nook. He glanced up, a little warily, then set the book down on his lap in surprise: it was General Cullen, of all people, still in his military uniform, the khaki pressed to razor edges, the collar blood red against his throat, the gold star of his rank bright and high over his sleeves. “General,” Dorian greeted Cullen, when Cullen seemed to hesitate. Hells, but the man was ridiculously handsome, more so than Dorian had expected: it wasn’t just the uniform, at that - there was something deliciously attractive about a gorgeous man who was utterly unaware that he was gorgeous. “Something the matter?”

Varric only got as far as “And this is the-“ before Hawke purred, “Why, hello there, stranger.” Disappointingly, the drop dead gorgeous vision of male perfection behind the staid old desk in the partly ruined stone chamber stared at Hawke in pure confusion. Tousled tawny gold hair over a vision of a face: strong jaw, yet something indefinably boyish, full cocksucker lips, broad shoulders, trim hips… “It’s good to see you again, Viscount,” the stranger blinked as Hawke finished his blatantly curious once-over. “‘Again’? Surely I’ll have remembered you from somewhere before, handsome.” “Er,” said the wet dream, and behind Hawke, Varric let out a deep sigh.

Written for a kmeme prompt. Cullen is raising a baby alone through the events of DA:I, Dorian is more help than he expects. Slow burn.

"You make me feel like I'm not good enough."

In which the Bull is one of the Ben-Hassrath's best agents, ready to give himself piece by piece to the fighting on Seheron, and Dorian is cursed, irritated, and stuck in a cave. An AU where the Iron Bull meets Dorian on Seheron, with Beauty & the Beast elements.

If he were being honest, it all started that first year, when Stiles called him Miguel and told Derek to put one of Stiles's shirts on. It sat in the back of his brain for two years after that, a quiet whisper he scarcely acknowledged. But they're fucking now, and it's brought it all back out.

Shikamaru walks into a trap

In the aftermath of war, Temari stands beside him, steady. And Shikamaru finally understands.

This day may have arrived sooner than she originally thought, but Yoshino couldn't have said she was all that surprised.

She's the extractor, not that she looks it. Most people walk on by her without realizing that she can–and will make their lives agony beyond their imagining to get what she wants. She comes in looking like little more than a florist's daughter: low necked shirt, mesh, a short skirt and a bundle of flowers wrapped up. Her gloves are long and made of thick leather which the poison can't quite get through. She plucks a hybrid rose and examines it a moment. Let the prisoner think a geisha has come to him; she's had training in that manner as well. Unlike Sakura who wore her heart on her sleeve, Ino could be the honeypot, the poison thorn.

"The art of love will be my challenge. We are going to measure our prowess as men. I challenge you to a battle to determine which of us is the better lover!"

Lee's face was full of serious enthusiasm until he realized it was Kakashi who had answered his knock, and then the young Genin's expression changed and he gave Kakashi The Look. The Look clearly stated 'I don't understand this and I'm not sure I like it, since I'm wondering if you didn't seduce Gai-sensei with some impure wile, but as you are now Gai-sensei's Dearest One, I will jump in front of a kunai for you'.

"...any of your parent’s friends have any kids of less than, say, six years of age?" "No, not that I know of." "Huh-huh.” A suspicion suddenly crystallized in Tsunade’s mind. Between her fingers, her punch glass started to crack.

Some choices, once made, cannot be taken back.

It was seven forty four PM, not that Iruka was watching the clock at all. He'd be an idiot to watch the time and expect Hatake Kakashi to show up for a date at eight o'clock.

Some villains have the kinkiest superhero traps.

The Narutostuck world is a fusion wherein I have jammed Homestuck characters into the Naruto universe and am pretending they were always there. Basically the Land of Space (Uchuu no Kuni) lies to the west of the Land of Wind (Kaze no Kuni), separated by a great desert; its capitol is the village of Hidden Time (Kouingakure no Sato). For the past century or two, it has been ruled by the Condesce and engaged in an endless war of conquest on the continent across the western sea; recently, however, a rebellion led by the Sufferer succeeded in overthrowing her and establishing a new social order in which discrimination against humans and discrimination by blood caste are officially outlawed. Meanwhile, over in the Elemental Countries, the plot of Naruto has reached some sort of good-guys-win conclusion. Now the people on both sides of the desert are tentatively trying to establish some kind of normal diplomatic and trade relations... but the Condesce and her chief supporters were never caught, and are still seeking to restore their rule.

Sakura at work, because damn it, medic-nin should be scary to fight.

A musing on the social and legal construction of childhood in hidden villages. Downbeat and philosophical.

The dust settled slowly. Dirt coated the bodies strewn about like discarded clay dolls, clung to Naruto's skin like another layer of clothing. His blood pounded in his ears like frantic drums, and the sickly sweet metallic scent of blood hung thick in the air over the muted undertones of upturned earth. His fingers hurt from where they were clenched tight around the scrap of green fabric. He took in one choked breath, then another. Only forty seconds had passed.

Spring fever can be a distracting ailment, even for Shinobi.

"Once upon a time in Fire Country, O my Best Beloved, three Ninjas went on a D-rank mission to retrieve a Cat..." A tale in the style of Rudyard Kipling's Just So Stories. Very silly.

Team 8 in a quiet moment during the timeskip, with lots of speculation about the origin and nature of the Aburame clan's bond with their kikkai. Fluffy enough to rot your teeth.

Many waters cannot quench love; neither can the floods drown it. Love is as strong as death.

Kakashi held up a hand. “We’ll pretend this never happened.”

"One has to wonder if it's all the perverts you're attracted to, or just the crazy ones.”

Gaara's breath breezed soft against Lee's thigh. "Hold still." Lee did her best to stop moving, but it was difficult.

"Temari, if you make me kiss him, you will regret it." Gaara's voice brooked no opposition.

Gaara calls the shots; Lee gets the attention; but Sakura inevitably gets what she wants.

The first time rain and Temari’s visits coincided, she stood in Shikamaru’s garden for three hours before coming in, soaked, shivering, and grinning from ear to ear. Her clothes were plastered to her body, every curve revealed, ponytails weighed down and dark with water, dripping all over the floor of the entrance with complete disregard for the mess.

Temari couldn't bake worth shit. It was commonly known among the village that Temari wasn't exactly a girlie-girl, but before their marriage Shikamaru'd had no concept of just how much the traditional wife he would be.